Clearly I don’t go out much because I can tell you that this one time that I DID actually venture into the world of Melbourne’s bars and after hours entertainment, I gathered enough material to write three blog posts. Yes. Three.
I didn’t go dancing. There is quite a good reason for this. I am extremely uncoordinated. A few years ago I got the notion Zumba classes might help me get some dance moves and help me loosen up a bit. Really? I never graduated from the back line. I thought it wouldn’t be fair to throw everyone else off. Truth is they were all fine and I remained the only off one. I saw new people come along and I would console them saying, “You’ll feel really unco when you start, but so long as you can laugh at yourself… You’ll be fine.” And I think I would have been fine if it were just me having a quiet giggle at my own expense. But no. The massive floor to ceiling glass walls took care of that. Zumba class was after Karate and before Indoor Tennis so there were always plenty of little kids – finger pointing, sniggering little kids – sharing my self-deprecating mirth. When the teacher, after two long years of Zumba perseverance, encouragingly told me she thought I might have improved a little, I decided to take up running.