I realised today that I have been doing BodyCombat for 7 years. Some marriages don’t even last that long, so I think it’s fair to say that I like it.
BodyCombat is a non-contact mixed martial arts aerobics class – like Boxercise with added kicking, and instructors who are more likely to shout Kill Him than Feel the burn.
It involves a lot of punching the air, and you have to do it with gusto. No knocking on the door like you’re asking permission to be let in – more like full throttle walloping, like a superhero feminist busting down the doors of the patriarchy.
Effort-wise I would say it’s harder than Zumba but not as hard as Spinning. There’s quite a bit of jumping and hopping, but you can keep it low impact if you prefer. So you could do it with slightly dodgy knees, but probably not with very dodgy knees. Newcomers often find their first class quite bracing – we had a twentysomething flee after 20 minutes today – but you soon catch up. It’s really good for general fitness and all that leg work will get rid of cellulite.
The music tends to be very eclectic. There is the usual aerobics eurocheese, and then anything from My Chemical Romance to the soundtrack to Pirates of the Caribbean.
I can do that whole routine, often unsolicited after a few pints of wine. And this one:
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So I am pretty achey after two days’ BodyCombat on the trot. My only other exercise today involved going for a walk and seeing some artists occupying a derelict bank and declaring it the Brighton Bank of Love. And that is what we call #normalforBrighton.