This, according to the instructor’s helpful announcement with 186 punches to go and my arms feeling very much as if they wanted to put in for early retirement, is apparently what I got through during last night’s new Body Combat routine. Quite how they managed to squeeze that many torturous movements into only an hour is beyond me – I’m also slightly worried at how many more they’ll try and squeeze into the routine after this in three months time, but for my shoulders’ sake I’ll try not to dwell on that one too much!
To be fair, I coped pretty well with the punchy and kicky bits – what got me was the evilness of tacking the plank followed by something called the Iron Cross (easily the most hellish variation on the situp concept I’ve ever experienced) onto the end of them, although I did experience a very brief moment of joy at the thought that situps would at least mean sitting down for a bit.
I should probably clarify at this juncture that I do quite enjoy Body Combat, albeit not as much as Zumba which has more Cath-compatible music, more dancing and less situp-ing. I just find I often enjoy it a lot more once I’ve done it!