Dance Like No-One's Watching

Dance Like No-one’s Watching

Back in the late 80’s and early 90’s I used to go to aerobics classes…. a lot.

I absolutely loved them, especially step aerobics. I had such a mad love affair with step aerobics that I never wanted it to end. Sadly though it did end as step started to fade from popularity, along with skin coloured aerobic leggings, g string leotards and thick knitted leg warmers that had to be worn just under your heels. I thought I would never find true love again…

And to be honest, it was a struggle. All the decent classes were in the big cities, and all you could find out in the suburbs was an endless parade of Body Pump and Spinning. Where was the joy in that? Where was the jumping around and having fun? All they consisted of were the same routines for months at a time, with most participants verging on imminent expiration either from exhaustion or boredom.

I had a brief dalliance with street dance classes, which were bloody amazing, but a little bit out of my league to be honest. Mainly filled with very good dancers who were all at least ten years younger than me. My ship had most definitely sailed.

Then came Zumba. Zumba was great fun and turned my life around for a while. What can be more fun than jumping around with a group of people in a small mirrored room with broken air-conditioning, trying to follow a pre-choreographed routine that none of you have a chance in hell of getting remotely correct other than the front row. Not much, I can tell you. It was fun while it lasted.

These days I don’t even belong to a gym. I guess I got a bit fed up with being lured in by shiny looking equipment, and exciting sounding class timetables, only to end up being fleeced for exorbitant amounts of money to just own a keycard that I never used. The classes were always uninspiring, the teachers were uninspired, and when there are only a few class options a day with times that don’t really suit you unless you are a yummy mummy or an office worker, well, it gets a bit dull.

So, I quit my gym membership, and bought a load of exercise dvd’s instead. Booooooring! There’s only so many times that Davina McCall pulling a stupid face can be funny. To be fair though, her dvd’s seem to have been the best of a bad lot. Even when you do get a decent workout, why oh why do they all seem to have elevator music in the background? Or bad covers of good tunes. Kind of reminiscent of the early 80’s before the dawn of the ‘Now Thats What I Call Music’ records. Remember that? When you could only buy popular songs on a mixed album that were covered by someone else! What the hell was that all about!?

Anyway, I digress. I personally find it nigh on impossible to feel motivated by a dumbed down version of what should be a pumping song on an exercise video. With that in mind I went out and bought The Ministry of Sound dvd, featuring Dion Whatserface from the ‘Call on Me’ video as it promised ‘proper music’. To be fair, it fulfilled its promise. It’s just unfortunate that the ‘instructor’ didn’t have a bloody clue what she was doing, and repeated “You can do it” on average every 10 seconds. By the end of it I never wanted to hear an Australian accent again.

Anyway, I know its no good just moaning without having a solution, but I do have one. The other night I put my training gear on (no, it didn’t include a g-string leotard), and I dug out a 90’s Dance cd which I put on VERY loud. I danced around my lounge on my own (with the curtains closed) for 45 minutes. I worked up a hell of a sweat and I didn’t have to look at Davina gurning once. It was bloody brilliant.

So, here’s my suggestion to all you expensive gym owners out there. Make a space amongst all your tedious Body Pump classes, and put in a ’90’s Rave Hour’, or a ‘Back to the 80’s Hour’, or even a ’70’s Disco Inferno Hour’. Dim the lights, plug in a disco ball, and get an instructor with a music license so they can provide some real tunes, and maybe throw in the odd dance move. Then just turn the music up and let people dance like no-one is watching.

Obviously g-string leotards and skin coloured leggings are optional.

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