By Jennifer Eden

I finally did it. I took the plunge. I went where few foreigners in China have dared go before. After four years in Beijing peering in through glass walls, I participated in my first aerobics class at the gym.

I have to admit, attending aerobics was not my original intention, but on my way to yoga, captivating scarily loud, yet unnervingly enticing, rock beats from the 80s playing at full volume caused me to put my running shoes back on, back slowly out of the Zen yoga chill area and enter the room of no return.

Long a gym-goer, I am not one for jumping up and down in bright tights and had previously no desire to joining a sweating mass of people gyrating to inaudible sounds. But this time it was different–in more ways than one.

Standing on the stage at the front of the large wooden-fl oored, glass and mirror-encased room was CJ, a very handsome and ridiculously lean Chinese instructor calling for everyone to get ready–his chiseled body and somewhat sexy demeanor was obviously doing its job, with a small horde of young women dressed in practically nothing clamoring to get as close to him as possible.

Choosing a spot at the back left hand side of the room, I took a quick look around before my journey into the abyss was to begin.

This was unlike any fitness class I had seen before.

As CJ arranged his music, people began to do the splits. They hoisted their legs in the air, stretching their limbs far beyond my capabilities, all the while making sure that CJ could see them in some corner of reflection.

It was then that I noticed that the girl next to me was wearing a little black dress suitable for a midnight dance club. Two beyond-bronzed girls at the front were in bikinis and the lady in front of me repeatedly walked up to the mirror to check her appearance, while most were in spotless gym-shoes and designer clothing.

"An aerobics class or parallel-universe narcissistic parade?" I asked myself.

As CJ pumped up the volume and began a routine of seriously crazy yet honestly loads of fun Latin moves at lightning speed, I kicked, spun, jumped, danced and sweated with enthusiasm. Pausing I noticed that only a few others were putting in my massive, albeit slightly uncoordinated, effort. The lady in front of me continued to head to the mirror to make sure she looked OK, the girl in the little black dress was taking pictures on her cell phone in between fixing her hair and the bikini girls at the front just stood and ogled the instructor. Two ladies began a conversation, while others stepped out of time to the music, stopping occasionally to chat on their mobile phones.

CJ tried to entice more participation by repeatedly lifting his shirt to reveal rock-hard abs, much to the delight of the girls (and a few guys) at the front, all the while I danced in glee in complete anonymity at the back, thoroughly enjoying a brilliant time along with, I guess, everyone else who applauded loudly after each track even if they had only just managed to wave their arms in the air for a minute.

Aerobics Chinese style, you have me hooked.