Some evenings I have free time - to do what, I'm not sure. Since Saturday, I've been aching from somersaulting into a scissor kick leaping to my feet grabbing pulling double chopping blocking chopping tornado kicking twice and ending with a right hook.

"You are still young. I am 60. Look at how I roll. I can still do. You are young. You can still do," lectures my teacher, addressing our class as we take our turns spinning across the increasing dusty crash mats.

My classmates are 10 to 25 years young than I am. This is one of the occasions when looking young does not help me. I've reminded my teacher of my age twice. He says, "Ah, how old? Ah, ok." Making excuses in a martial arts class is never dignified. The best I can do is raise my eyebrows and then go for it. So, I rolled across crash mats for 45 minutes on Saturday.

"Good, but too slow. Add speed," my teacher repeats each time I turn towards him and head to the back of the line.

"Hmm. Your tornado kick is not good. Add some speed," he adds every third time I take a turn.

Our class is small - four of us. Breaks in between our turns are brief. I watch my classmates. The senior citizens in tai chi class immediately after our kung fu class begin to arrive. We keep rolling as the seniors watch.