I had no idea that so much time had passed since my last blog. Good Heavens. I must have been very, very busy. I have, in fact, been working on several projects, the most pressing of which is making my hair grow. I have to say I have made slow progress and wonder if there are any suggestions?
Bent on keeping myself in optimum health, I have endeavoured to find some exercise that I can do a full three hours of a week (not all consecutively, you understand!) as I have been led to believe that someone of my personality type (slightly nervy and very energetic in a very grounded sort of way) needs that much. Apparently, much like different breeds of dog, we anxious souls need a lot of walking and invigorating. It’s all to do with using up the cortisol we produce, you see!
I heard of a dance-y clappy, shaky form of dance called Zumba (apparently founded by accident when a jolly, vibrant aerobics teacher forgot his equipment – oh dear!) and I went along for my first two classes last week.
Well, we were a motley crew but we all managed to shake and wobble most bits that were shaky and wobbly and it did, indeed, fit the cortisol-using requirement. I am a confirmed convert.
In the corner was a haggard, wizened lady observing herself in the mirror as she danced not as vigorously as she had thought she was. In the middle was the loveliest, sexiest, jolliest instructor one could wish to meet. There was a selection of ladies of a certain age – some tall and some small. All seemed to do remarkably well in keeping up the stamina needed for jumping and zooming and twisting and turning and pounding and puffing. I was suitably impressed.
There is always something sobering about cavorting about in front of a mirror. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t do it that often.
Now I’d like to say that next to the jolliest, loveliest, sexiest instructor was a toned and vigorous lady called Sara Green. But when I looked in the mirror again, I realised that the haggard, wizened lady in the corner (do you remember? The one for whom I felt a lot of sympathy…) was actually me.
Let’s hope that next to the Zumba studio I might find an anti-ageing studio next time. I shall surely drop in there before my next prescribed bout of vigour.
Happy beginning of May and happy middle. Let’s all hope, too, for a happy end!