Z is for…

I’ve become a little obsessed with Zumba lately. Well maybe not obsessed, but it has become my two times a week, choice of cardio. Other than Roller Derby I haven’t been able to find an aerobic/cardio based activity that makes me work so hard and sweat like crazy. I leave Zumba red faced and with a sense of real accomplishment. 

I am pretty sure I look like a tit doing it, and I avoid looking at my reflection whilst I partake, but I don’t give a crap. The intensity, rush of adrenaline, the euphoria of losing myself in the music… Is just enough to make me forget how stupid I look.

On a Tuesday morning the Zumba class I attend is pretty intense. An hour of none stop, interval style dance that has me aching days afterwards. The Thursday class is less intense, but is still an hour of none stop motion and is just what I need at that point in the week.

Zumba has also been interesting in terms of the music it’s exposed me too. A lot of Latin beats in one class and more current dance/pop music in the other. Genres I wouldn’t usually listen to, but that I’ve really enjoyed dancing to. The day a teacher puts Zumba to Justin Beiber in a class though… I’m done. No time for that shite.

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