Last Monday was filled with work and community meetings. As the fourth one wrapped up after 7:00 p.m., I was ready to wind down. That would typically include my couch, Chicago Tonight on the television and a cup of vanilla tea (though Monday deserved a glass of wine). Instead, for the first in a very long time, I was hustling around the corner to meet my neighbor Becca for a workout.

It all started with a tongue-in-cheek e-mail from my friend Jonathan about something called “Zumba.” He joked that Zumba would be perfect for me because it just might have as much energy as I do. Simplified, he described it as line dancing to Latin music. No way, I thought. I detest line dancing.

I learned by referencing Zumba in my status on FaceBook that it is much more than that. Zumba is a down-to-earth workout that incorporates the Latin rhythms of meringue, rhumba, samba and other styles with dance moves that could be advertised “as seen on MTV.” In short, Zumba is the new exercise craze.

My first foray took place last month with my friend Shannon at S.P.A.C.E., which is essentially the back room of an upscale pizza joint in Evanston. I figured that Evanstonians are a friendly people who wouldn’t dare laugh at a Zumba neophyte. I hadn’t had a workout in months. About 45 minutes in, we realized the class was an hour and a half long. I had to harken (way) back to my club days to keep up. The quick moves boosted my blood pressure. My upper and lower body muscles burned. I nearly collapsed when it was over. We left tired but feeling accomplished.

And I was hooked. So when Becca found a Zumba class close to my West Loop home, at Lou Conte Dance Studio, I couldn’t resist. That’s where we met Monday night. Classes there are an hour, and more intimate than S.P.A.C.E. Zumba instructors Haley and Julie have tons of energy and are quite enthusiastic regardless of the class’s skill level. The photo accompanying this column shows us after a workout. Note that although a bit damp, we’re still smiling. Becca and I joke about heading to the clubs someday after we master the Figure Eight move. The workout’s so good we’d have to stop for a shower first.

Like the exercise crazes themselves, my interest is fickle. Years ago I ran a marathon, followed by a period of hibernation until taking up swimming at the YMCA. Another period of rest ended with yoga. I loved kickboxing, until they had us sparring and paired me with a man who was more than six feet tall and demonstrated, dare I say, a bit of a bad attitude toward women. Pole dancing at Flirty Girl Fitness on West Randolph was a blast too, but a little uncomfortable since I went with my sister-in-law and we had to share a pole.

That said, as I was writing this column, I came upon yet another exercise offering that strikes me as more than a bit exciting.

Next Tuesday, I start Hockey 101 at Johnny’s Ice House on West Madison, our neighborhood rink. I’m most looking forward to strapping on pads and learning how to shoot the puck. I’m least excited about the general stink that emanates from what I’ve believed to be a combination of sweat and chemicals from the ice. I’ll still be going to Zumba once a week, but I think this hockey thing could be the next craze.

Game on!