"Who is Pit Bull?"

“Are you ready to have some fun?” The woman with a bright smile and long braids asks me this as I stand in the lobby of the Racquet Club of Concord. I’m here to try my luck at a Zumba class. My New Year’s resolutions aren’t gonna resolve themselves, and this class could be a great way to get started. Her name is Rebekah Brigham, and her smile illuminates the entire room. She’s been teaching Zumba since September. “You’re going to love it. I promise!”

Rebekah’s joined by two other instructors. Heidi Cary, an 18-month Zumba veteran from Pembroke and Jessica Corr, today’s lead instructor. The three of them are decked in head-to-two Zumba gear - fit, full of energy and ready to go. This is not a run of the mill exercise class, I think. I’m not sure if it’s fear or excitement in my belly, but I follow them into the gym. Zumba’s slogan, “Ditch the workout, join the party!” is more than enough to pique my interest.

Zumba is the brain-child of Beto Perez, a Colombian fitness instructor, who, as legend has it, was running late to an aerobics class and forgot his regular music. Rather than send everyone home, Beto instead threw together a collection of merengue and salsa music for his class, and everyone loved it. The rest, as they say, is history.

Just before the class begins, Tracey Beaulieu, a leader in the New Hampshire Zumba community, bounds in, neon tassels twirling on her Zumba cargo pants. “Zumba is about relieving stress, having fun and burning calories,” Tracey tells me as we get ready to start. If there is a local expert in all things Zumba, Tracey’s got that title sewn up, with neon accents, of course. She’s been teaching Zumba in and around Concord for almost three years and is the only licensed choreography instructor in the state, teaching routines and moves and spreading the Zumba word.

Zumba’s hard to miss. Turn on the TV to see infomercials, watch the ads for its motion video games or check out the Zumba-themed merchandise for sale online. From neon cargo pants to “Wild Zumba Leggings” to earrings, necklaces, toning bars, racerback tops, DVDs, tee shirts and winter jackets, you can dress the Zumba lifestyle for every occasion except maybe a court date or a parole hearing.

Since its formal inception in 2001, Zumba has grown into a fitness juggernaut. More than ten million people in over one hundred countries take Zumba classes regularly, and it’s offered in over 90,000 locations worldwide. There are six types of classes, for everyone from baby boomers (“Zumba Gold”) to children (“Zumbatomic”) to people who love water sports (“Aqua Zumba”) to people like me, who like our Zumba on dry land.

Tracey tells me more about the growing Zumba culture in the greater Concord area. “There are about sixty instructors across the state, and you can find a class any day of the week,” she tells me. Later I do some research and discover that Tracey, Rebekah, Heidi, Jessica and others teach classes from Allenstown to Bow, from Concord to Contoocook, in Suncook, Weare, Pittsfield and Hopkinton and towns in between. In Concord alone, there are more than fifteen Zumba classes offered weekly, so it’s just a matter of time before you find yourself in a Zumba class whether you like it or not.

Before today, I knew very little about it. I’d heard that Zumba was a “Latin-inspired, calorie-burning dance fitness party.” I’ll admit some trepidation. The last Latin-inspired party I went to was the 10:30 Sunday church service my parents dragged me to as a nine-year old. I can assure you that Latin-themed event lacked dancing and salsa music, and I’m pretty sure the priest didn’t wear a fluorescent pink spaghetti string tank top and skin-tight leggings, at least as far as I could tell.

As Jessica and Tracey prep the music, it dawns on me that I am the only man here. I ask Jessica where the other men are. “Men are chicken!” and she laughs. The music starts, and I find a spot near the back.

I decide to dedicate my inaugural Zumba performance to all the men of the world who’ve ever run screaming from an organized exercise class dominated by women or who consider grilling sausage a calorie-burning event. This one’s for you, fellas.

As we gather, I meet a few of my classmates. One woman to my left says, “Don’t worry! I’m a nurse and she’s a physical therapist,” pointing to another to my right. “We’ve got you covered!” I’m tempted to ask if there’s a cardiologist or mortician in the house but think otherwise. Jessica’s standing in the front of the group, and she’s already moving to the music.

Without a word of instruction, Jessica’s off and moving! The music pulsates and everyone copies her – back and forth she moves, sometimes her feet, other times her hips and then her arms move in unison with her hips and feet. I almost stand still because I have no idea how to move like that. She syncopates her feet with her hands and torso, and I’m totally lost. But it really doesn’t matter. Everyone is smiling, laughing, hooting and hollering as Jessica moves in rhythm to the music.

A few songs in, I start to pick up on the patterns, getting the general gist of each routine. I can only imagine how pathetic I look, but the music’s loud, everyone’s doing their best, and no one’s keeping score. Heidi, then Rebekah leads us through high-energy routines, and once Tracey starts in again, I’ve given into Zumba completely and just move my rotund body to the music.

I’ve always thought I was a pretty good dancer, but all those skills abandon me. I try copying Tracey’s moves step for step but am not even close. When Tracey turns her back and shakes her rump, I find myself doing the same thing.

If twenty years ago you’d told me that when I was 43, I’d be gyrating to a song by a man named “Pit Bull,” surrounded by two dozen women doing the merengue in a public space in central New Hampshire, I would have said, “Who’s Pit Bull?”

Tracey leads the class in a wide circle, taking us through a series of choreographed moves that have our heart rates soaring. I follow along, running with my classmates into the middle and sprinting back out to the edge. I’ve lost all sense of self-consciousness – this is fun, and I’m sweating like crazy.

Looking to my left and right, everyone’s moving to the beat- some of us are a bit off-kilter and some are spot on, matching the instructors move for move, but everyone is happy. I’m not sure I can even accurately describe what Zumba is – it’s not quite aerobics, and it’s not really a dance class – it’s almost like a personal pep rally where everyone cheers for themselves. And we all need our own cheering section now and then. And Zumba’s just the ticket.