Once the post-Christmas weigh-ins had been tallied a friend suggested sashaying along to a new Salsa class being held at my arts centre.
In six weeks, so I was told, I'd be able to Salsa like a Salsa dancer (sorry, my creativity is compromised as I continually type to a beat of eight).
Our first class consisted mainly of trying to count and move our feet at the same time. Of course we humans continually multi-task in this way - but break it down, take away the auto pilot and it's a crash waiting to happen.
After the first hour, the improvers were drafted in and we were led through some basic moves and for a split second I almost believed I was a dancer.
Such was the fun that my friend and I signed up for the remaining five weeks and walked home, to the beat of eight.