Society states that the average 22  year old male with…relative charisma and social standing, should be spending his weeknights hanging out watching the football with his mates, or out at clubs surrounded (if he’s lucky) by lovely ladies.

When I tell you that I spend, on average, four nights a week surrounded by ladies and paying for the privilige, you might give me a look or two. But when I tell you about my love for Zumba….well, you still might give me a look or two.

For somebody who has always fancied himself as a bit of a dancer, normally whilst under the influence of both drink and an inflated sense of self-esteem, going to my first class was both a daunting and enthralling experience. Walking in gingerly (and late, I’d hasten to add) I immediately had 30 or so pairs of female eyes transfixed on me as if I’d crossed over onto the wrong side of the tracks. Taking my place at the back of the hall and instantly regretting my decision to turn up, I had a sudden thought.

It was one of those “hey, why the hell not?” moments which were disturbingly rare in my relatively conservative character.

The next hour or so was a trial but I must say, I was immediately hooked. Knowing that I was the centre of attention for quite possibly all the wrong reasons was something that was quite difficult to grasp. But the atmosphere amongst the class was a real treat. Made to feel right at home, I continued to fumble my way through each routine, sweating un-naturally but ever so increasingly changing my smile from nervously forced, to genuine.

That was approximately a year ago. Funny how time flies. Now, well I look back at that and laugh. Some may argue that I still fumble my way through now. I’m a 6 foot plus, lanky son of a gun with flailing arms and legs that I can’t control, but I enjoy the experience all the same. It’s not about how good you are, it’s about the enjoyment. Which I suppose, is just as well.

The reason for writing this isn’t to ramble on about myself. It’s kind of meant to be written as an advertisement, just taking a while to get there that’s all. Turning up at that first class a year or so ago and being the only male present, confident or not, was still extremely overwhelming. It felt for a brief moment like an invasion of privacy, like I was coming into somebody’s home and re-arranging all the furniture. However, the reason for writing is to make other men aware, those who have a boogie at a wedding and think that they can give anybody a run for their money on the dancefloor, that they should give it a go. What have you got to lose?

Okay, don’t answer that.  But in all seriousness..

There are approximately 5 or 6 of us now that regularly visit these classes. We’re all different ages, shapes and sizes. We all flail a little bit, our hips desert us, we even have a “man dance” attributed to us….which hopefully serves as more of a tribute, not an excuse to point and laugh. But we keep coming back for more.

To sum up then I guess, encouraging more men with secret desires to “shake it”, as it’s often put, is never going to be easy. Believe me, I’ve been trying to ever since. Each man to their own and all that. Personally, right now I have no idea what I’d do without it. I’ve met some fantastic people because of it and it’s now a massive part of my life.

My encouragement for fellow males who are sitting on the fence is, give it a go! You may just find that you like it.