Making a Splash

It is eight years since I first wrote this piece after nervously dipping more than just a toe into the world of Aqua Aerobics. It still makes me smile to read it back. Since then, time has marched on, fashions in swimwear have come and gone, and I am very pleased to report that both my sense of humour and my wobbly bits remain very much intact. Re-reading it now, I am reminded that some things never really change: public changing rooms are still a trial, enthusiastic female pensioners are still the undisputed queens of the pool, and there is still something wonderfully liberating about flinging oneself about in chlorinated water in the company of strangers who could not care less what size costume you wear. So as I repost this in 2026, it is with the benefit of eight more years of life, laughter and aquatic misadventure behind me, here is my original account of that memorable splash into poolside fitness. 

This post is dedicated with love to my Aunty, my partner in Aqua Aerobics for the one or was it two sessions that we managed altogether?

Image thanks to Chatgpt

MAKING A SPLASH - 21st July 2018

Encouraged by my Aunt, I joined her at an Aqua Aerobics class at our public baths this week.  I think that in earlier blogs, I have highlighted the fact that I am not a particularly attractive woman.  Perhaps I should elaborate further on my physique and tell you that, sitting on my bed naked and wearing a certain type of underwear, I do somewhat resemble a sumo wrestler.  This is not hyperbole and I am not putting myself down at all, it is simply the truth.  Having three children and a complete lack of self esteem has taken it's toll upon my body and I am afraid this has gone beyond complete repair. However, I do recognise that there are also good things about the way I look too, My eyes are a lovely blue colour and when I smile they smile. My skin is soft and, given the right impetus, I can get my legs up surprisingly high when lying down. However, seeing me naked or semi clothed, does require a strong stomach on the part of the viewer - this is a just a fact that cannot be denied.

Anyway I digress. This blog is about my recent Aqua Aerobics class and I must get to the point. A flashback to a previous water-based keep fit class a few years before had made me somewhat apprehensive about my forthcoming Aqua session. My first fear was to do with the changing rooms - were they communal or individual? I don't do communal changing rooms, they remind me of having to have a shower after PE lessons during my teenage years at school and feeling inferior to the other girls in my year group. The PE teacher used to stand by the communal showers to ensure that we girls stripped off and washed ourselves down before changing back into our uniforms. For me this was the worse kind of torture, I am actually scarred for life because of this practice, and there is no way I am ever getting undressed in front of strangers again!  I do not want to see other people's lady bits and I certainly don't want them my to view my reubenesque attributes!  

On arrival at the pool, I was therefore delighted to find that, though the changing area was mixed gender, there were numerous cubicles so I happily slipped into one and prepared myself for the class.  Still somewhat nervous, I exited my cubicle dressed in my blue and white swimming costume, looking like I had just stepped out of a Beryl Cook painting.  But I need not have been so scared because, as I entered the main pool area, I was greeted by a very friendly lady who put me ease with her easy going nature and sense of humour. As I waited for Aunty Glenys to arrive, I looked around me and saw that there were women of all ages, shapes and sizes all at ease in their surroundings chatting away to each other and I felt comfortable. Boy did we laugh during that class. Though uncoordinated in the extreme and flopping about like a fish out of water, I put my best efforts into the Jumping Jacks, Side Shuffles and Butt kicks. To my mind, my star jumps were perfection and, what I couldn't do with my 16 inch noodle was just not worth doing. I was also pleasantly surprised by my core strength as I balanced on my float in the sitting position.  My Aunty was hilarious, she couldn't hear a thing and couldn't see the instructor at all without her glasses on and this resulted in some very interesting zumba-like movements on her part.  She was also very competitive during the cardio stuff and unnecessarily violent in her splashing movements. I think she purposefully created that mini tsunami which found me drifting helplessly towards the poor unsuspecting man who was doing back stroke in the lane behind me.

Let me tell you about the last time I went to an Aqua class.  At that time in my life, I was a member of a posh gym near my home. For the thousandth time, I had decided that I should be losing weight and getting fitter. I had already been going to the gym to follow my thrice weekly work out program which had been designed for me by my personal trainer and, having lost a few pounds, was feeling confident enough to try a few additional classes. I had already tried a Samba-based exercise class, but there were far too many mirrors in the room and I kept getting distracted by the sight of my wobbly bits undulating wildly as I moved my hips and torso around in time to the music. So the next class was 'Splash aerobics', chosen because, in my head, I felt that the water would offer a certain amount of cover, and I could maintain a semblance of dignity as I moved my bulk around.

Standing on the side of the pool, I took in my surroundings. Already taking up their positions in the water were some lively-looking female pensioners chatting happily to one another.  There was a group of young women wearing skimpy designer bikinis pogoing up and down in the pool barely creating a ripple and, towards the back of the pool were one or two small groups of males looking like they would rather be elsewhere. I was, however, definitely the largest woman in the group so, hoping to remain inconspicuous, I slowly and discreetly made my way into the water. Unfortunately, my graceful entry was short-lived as I slipped on the tiled step and belly flopped loudly into the pool, drawing the attention of the whole class to my ungainly form as I tried to stand upright and regain my dignity!

My feeling that the popularity of the class was mostly down to the instructor, a 30 something male fitness fanatic wearing tight lycra cycling shorts, was confirmed as I got to my feet and I heard one purple haired pensioner commenting on the instructor's pert bottom and her friend saying "it's good to be alive isn't it Hilda?" Hilda then looked at my wide eyes and said "what you looking at, we aren't dead yet!" Suitably chastised I made my way to the back of the pool and stood facing the instructor.

During a particularly strenuous session of knee to chest jumps, I was so focused on what I was doing that I hadn't noticed that my rather ample bosom had escaped the confines of my swimming costume and both breasts were cavorting about like two joyful puppies.  I hate to think how long they were free before a white haired gentleman wearing budgie smugglers and sporting a nipple piercing, was kind enough to let me know of my plight. As, red-faced, I crouched under the water to shove my errant mammary glands back into place, I watched him swim away from me, his shoulders shaking with laughter.  I got the last laugh though, because a little while later, whilst we were doing ab-crunches with a noodle, his false teeth catapulted from his mouth and sank to the bottom of the pool!  

It was a horrendous experience and I don't think I actually ever went back to that gym.  But, now years later, I am somewhat braver or perhaps just less caring about what other people think about me.  So, for the time being at least, I will be attending Aqua aerobics in the public pool with normal people, who like me, have wobbly bits and are somewhat larger than society deems acceptable. Like them, I will be putting all my effort into the reduction of my belly, the toning of my thighs and bingo wings and building up my core strength. Like them, I will be laughing loudly as I cavort around the pool like some kind of playful sea monster and, like them I will be nipping into the cafe after class for a good strong cup of coffee, and, once in a while I will avoid the cake counter - may'be perhaps?