"I’ve been honest with her, and told her that she won’t be able to do it.”

Fitness instructor Lesa Rhodes pulls no punches as she introduces me to her class in the spacious sports hall at Richard Dunn Centre.

She’d warned me before I went along that I would not last long, but from what I’d seen of line dancing, I was pretty sure I’d be able to keep up. After all, I’d managed aerobics in the past, and that was far faster.

So I took my place among the group of around 25 women and looked to the front as Lesa prepared to start. I’d worried that morning as I’d failed to find my daughter’s cowboy hat – an accessory I thought was vital to line dancing – and didn’t have a pair of fancy boots, blue jeans or a checked shirt. But I needn’t have fretted, as everyone wore their everyday clothes. “There’s no dress code – you can wear whatever you like,” says Lesa, who stands at the front of the class.

We start off with the Cowboy Charleston, a relatively slow dance, to break me in. “You should be okay with this one,” she assures me.

I don’t want to let Lesa down, but from the very first move I’m lost. It is not that that she moves too quickly for me to keep up – it is just difficult. There are so many different moves: steps and turns, heels and toes, back and forwards. I don’t take my eyes off Lesa for a second, but still I flounder. I turn one way, the class turn the other, I step left, they step right.

“It isn’t as easy as it looks,” I comment.

“It takes time,” says class member Joyce Shooter, in an attempt to make me feel better. “I’ve been line dancing for years, but I still get mixed up.”

I find it hard to believe – they are all so good. “It takes a while to learn the dances,” adds Joyce Lord, 70 . “But when it falls into place you don’t think about it.”

The two Joyces love coming along, both for exercise and socially. “You make so many friends,” says Joyce Lord, who has been line dancing since the class started 12 years ago.

Christine Castle, 62, of Wibsey, attends three line dancing classes every week. “It can be strenuous – some of the dances are quite fast – but its great exercise. And it gets me out of the house.”

In a beginners’ class, dancers would do no more than three sequences in an hour. This class – intermediate – does many more.

“It is very energetic and keeps you supple,” says Sheila Dewhirst, 77, of Shelf. “I love it, and we are all friends. One member of the class moved to Chesterfield and six of us went to see her for the day, but it rained heavily and floods kept us there for three days – she had all these old ladies sleeping on her floor.”

The class is very welcoming, and I feel comfortable, despite having two left feet.

We move on to Mamma Mia – to my surprise, the music isn’t all country and western – and I’m well and truly lost. I’m absolutely amazed to see everyone dancing in unison, despite some complex moves.

I haven’t got the excuse of age – everyone is at least a decade older than me, some 30 years my senior. I try my best, and on a couple, of occasions, I think I’m doing the right moves at the right time. But I’m probably not.

Next, Lesa introduces a new song, American Pie, with new moves. The class hasn’t done it before, so I reckon I’ll be okay.

What’s the expression? ‘Lulled into a false sense of security.’ Everyone seems to pick up the moves in minutes, whereas I’m too busy working out where I should end up after a half turn, or a quarter turn. I’m never in the right place.

And I’m lost on the language – hitch, Monterey turn, kick cross – it’s all Russian to me.

“I still get mixed up, don’t worry,” Jean Wilkinson, 76, tells me. “I only need a bit of a distraction like that man up there cleaning the windows, and I lose the thread.”

I would never have believed that line dancing could be so difficult. “It keeps your brain active,” says Margaret Shaw, 66, “You need to concentrate to learn new dances.”

Adds Sue Lewis: “The footwork doesn’t always come to me, but it’s a great way to exercise, it really lifts your spirits.”

I believe her – I really enjoy my time with the class.

“It’s not a doddle,” says Lesa, “It’s a bit like suduko – it sharpens the memory.”

I think I need a few more sessions before I can even begin to agree.