Zumba!
Zumba appears to be the latest fashion in torture for ladies of a certain age. I'm shocked to find that I am that certain age and in need of losing several stone, so have been sucked into the pain and sweat-fest that is the weekly Zumba class.
I dutifully turn up, jig about in completely uncoordinated spasms until the hour is up and the lively lady at the front tells us all that we have been brilliant and we have done ourselves the world of good.
It would appear to be at least doing some good. My pedometer managed to record 16000 steps last week during a class. That at least must be the equivalent to a marathon, and worth at least half a pound?
Apparently the trick is to eat less and move more, in the vain hope that there will be less of me at the end. There is always hope!
Posted via m.livejournal.com.
I dutifully turn up, jig about in completely uncoordinated spasms until the hour is up and the lively lady at the front tells us all that we have been brilliant and we have done ourselves the world of good.
It would appear to be at least doing some good. My pedometer managed to record 16000 steps last week during a class. That at least must be the equivalent to a marathon, and worth at least half a pound?
Apparently the trick is to eat less and move more, in the vain hope that there will be less of me at the end. There is always hope!
Posted via m.livejournal.com.