It’s been almost a year since I gave you guys an insight into my altogether new experience of Zumba fitness classes.

For those of you who haven’t yet seen it before, or just fancy a shuffle and a shimmy down memory lane, the previous article lies below:-

My Two Left Feet

So, how have things progressed since then?

Well, as the title may suggest to you, I STILL sadly have two left feet. With a stature resembling a beanpole and a decidedly scrawny body type, I don’t exactly give off the impression as a bonafide dancer. But the enjoyment? Still very much there. Especially as I’m now tasked with standing up the front or on the stage as a “helper” for everybody to marvel/laugh/try not to look at.

Unfortunately, since my last post, the number of men in class hasn’t exactly been on much of an increase. In fact, I think it may have gone in the other direction. It’s extremely concerning that I now count as the “testosterone” amongst the group. Having said that, the males that we do have in class are nothing short of impressive. Myself, well…you already know a little about me. But one of the additional males is pushing 50 with the charisma and body of a man half his age, while another (who I believe is currently in his 60s) drives coaches during the day and gives it 100% at class during the evening. Kind of like Superman, however with the ability to salsa instead of an ability to fly.

There’s nothing like seeing somebody give it their all to really inspire you to do the same.

Zumba itself is very much dependent on the hard work and commitment of the instructor, as well as those who come week in, week out. As nice as it is to see the same faces, it always makes you work that little bit harder when you know there’s somebody new pinning their hopes on being able to follow you in order for them not to look silly. I’m a bit nutty like that though; the more people to perform to, the better. It’s a strange thing really, once you get over the self-conscious and self-awareness issues, whilst providing assistance on stage to the instructor you’ll normally find that it’s a case of more eyes on you, the merrier.

The gang at a charity-organised Zumbathon back in July 2012….you’ll never guess which one I am.

I still get a fair batch mixed reactions when I tell people that I go to Zumba. It’s safe to say that the majority of men can’t quite get on board with the idea. But that’s ok, I wouldn’t want to put them through the obvious embarrassment of me running rings around them during a class anyway…I can understand that might be damaging to their ego. But the ladies seem to have a mixed reaction. Am I the man for them because I’m more than happy to admit my enjoyment for Zumba and my passion for performing? Maybe. Or is that a reason simply to stay away? Who knows – but one thing I have found recently is that they seem to enjoy seeing a sweaty man. Well, lock and load because if that’s the case then I’m prepared to work and to sweat a lot more.

Y’know…for research purposes only. Obviously *winks*

One disturbing yet slightly pleasing thing to come out of Zumba classes in the recent months is that I seem to have finally, FINALLY located some hips. Now, I don’t know whose they are or if they’re here to stay, but I plan on enjoying them while I have them, just praying that they don’t decide to scarper in the middle of the class making me look like more of a fool than I already do. Now those who are passionate about it such as I, will know that being able to “work it” with your hips give you an almost immediate confidence boost, especially for somebody like myself who doesn’t have an awful lot. The problem however with gaining hips and the subsequent inflatted sense of self-esteem is that sometimes there’s the option there to get carried away and attempt to shake your backside too. Now, I certainly DON’T have one of those, sadly. Think I should just quit while I’m managing? Perhaps.

Sadly so true for some of us…

I hope this still doesn’t put off other men from partaking in something like Zumba – or any female-dominated fitness class for that matter. It really, really is worth getting into, especially if you’re an ocasionally confident fellow like myself who, past a certain stage, doesn’t really tend to give a crap about what people think of him.

It’s fun, it’s energetic and there’s a lot of different routines to keep you on your toes. But you have to have a bit of something about you in order to stop yourself from being brought to your knees!

Now, much like a lot of these crazes, there may come a time soon where Zumba itself may start to die out. At least within the confines of the local area around where I’m from anyway. And if/when that time comes, I will most certainly look out for another expressive form of fitness to partake in as it would be a shame to miss out on something that you enjoy.

One thing is for certain though, I’m going to keep shakin’ whatever the hell it is I’ve got until that time comes.