Losing my Zumba Virginity

I was invited along to a “Zumba Party” that happened last night.

I got the invite a week ago, sent a text to a friend to see if she wanted to join me, got her hopes up with my text-based dysgraphia (although, personally, I like to think that my phone is faulty and doesn’t have AutoCorrect, but more an AutoPullRandomShitFromNoWhereAndUseThatWordInsteadCorrect) and clarified it was indeed “Zumba” and not “Zumbs” and she said a Zumbs party sounds much more exciting, even though we have no idea what it could possibly mean.

It was a shit week, emotionally, thanks to the words of others (yes, yes, words can’t hurt, get over it, don’t worry, they’re not worth it …except they are people who mean much to me, and words do so fucking hurt!) and I figured a night of Zumba-ing, and possibly drinks afterwards, was just what I was up for.

It clashed with the birthday dinner of a brother-in-law, which I’m always up for. They were also going out for Korean, which I have never tried before and am always up for new, food related experiences.

New food?


Tough call. The latter, however, was husband and child depleted, so a no brainer.

Besides, it has been such a long time since I’d done anything remotely dancey-exercisey, and I’d dodged they Zumba-hype thus far, I figured I’d give it a bit of a go.

(There really is nothing like letting your hair down and dancing like no one is watching to attend to your mental health.)

I also like that I can “get dressed” in trackies and runners for a night out. Cool!

Along I went, caught up with some of the other awesome mums from school, positioned myself in the second-from-back row and got caught up in the action.

My Former Aerobics Instructor brain got the better of me, and I entertained wild fantasies of Getting Back Into It.

I suck as a participant, but instructing again … hmmm, maybe …

Anyhoo, it didn’t take long before I got my mojo back, but never having participated in this style of group exercise to music previously, there were a few minor incidents.

A number of us, having turned the wrong left instead of right, almost suffered Vagina Impact Injuries, and it did occur to me that throwing my arms up in the air and yelling “Oh, FUCK!” as a horde of fluorescent-topped women came running in my direction was perhaps not quite the right move.

Still, I had a great night out, jumping around and rousing the endorphins from their daze, then heading off for drinks at the local pub, where they had no dress code and letting us in in our lycraed legs and sneakered feet.

I did wonder whether I wanted to be allowed to enter a pub that had no dress code and let the likes of me in, dressed as I was, but still, a sauv blanc is a sauv blanc.

Made it home at 11.59p.m.

Lucky! Might’ve turned into a pumpkin otherwise. Oh, yeah, and everyone was asleep by this stage.

Oh, and I won a Five Pass Zumba Class Pass Thing – hurrah!

Awoken this morning by a series of precision movements, a right knee to the twat, a left elbow in the right boob, a left knee to the face …

Huge thanks to the fabulous Nada for putting on a great night. Love your work, babe!


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