Olivia Bennett finds body combat a religious experience

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WIMBLEDON is set to serve up another two weeks of ­Murray-fever. Symptoms include the clogging of ­public tennis courts, an ­outbreak of stray balls and a severe over-confidence in one’s backhand. But if you’re dusting down your racquet and looking for a workout that isn’t stopped every five minutes to retrieve balls from the neighbouring court, try cardio tennis.

A craze that began in the US before volleying over to our shores five years ago, ­cardio tennis provides a full-on, hour-long aerobic and strength workout.

The emphasis is on ­running up and down the court, and hitting balls left, right and centre, rather than your technique and accuracy. So it doesn’t matter if you’re a complete cack-handed ­spanner. “It’s in-your-face tennis, American-style,” says Lawn Tennis Association coach Sam Richardson, ­responsible for rolling out cardio tennis in the UK.

“It’s a high-energy workout that appeals to ­people who like to get up a sweat and when the music is blaring it’s anything but the stuffy, middle­-class sport people think tennis is.”

There are nearly 300 coaches trained in cardio ­tennis, about 15 per cent of the licensed coaches in the UK.

American studies have found that in an hour’s workout you burn 650-700 ­calories. Whereas an hour of normal singles tennis burns just 300 calories, which is why amateur games can go on for so long. “In games, if the standard is poor, you don’t get a good run around, but a cardio tennis workout is up there with aerobics,” adds Richardson.

But how does it shape up? We had thelondonpaper’s Ravi Meah don his tennis whites. But cardio tennis isn’t the only workout craze to combine a sport with an exercise routine. Olivia Bennett road tests body combat – martial arts-based aerobics – and Peter Knight checks out boxercise, which is, well, boxercise.

Cardio tennis

‘No skill needed for a total workout’

Given I hadn’t played tennis since I was racquet-sized, I approached the session with trepidation.

But fear not, said class instructor Gavin Arber, “cardio tennis is available for every standard of player. Somebody with no experience can play alongside someone of an ­advanced level”.

Great, but with seven other fitness fans attending the session at the David Lloyd Health Club in Finchley, there’s still an audience for my wild air swings. But that’s the last thing on my mind once my heart starts racing.

The first drill is standing on the baseline, hitting the ball over the net, ­followed by a few sidesteps on the edge of the court. Easier said than done. Tip: keep your eyes on the ball and hold the racquet at the bottom of the handle.

Then Gavin drew us in closer to the net for more shots, where I hit the roof, literally, three times. It’s all basic stuff ­until Gavin ramps up the ­intensity: one forearm shot, one backhand, run to the baseline, hit ­another and six leg lunges on the side. Now I’m really feeling the burn.

Hitting the balls ­provides a good workout for your upper arms and shoulders, while the ­running does wonders for your legs and stamina. Perfect if, like me, you’re fed up with doing the same routine four times a week down the gym.

The session ends with tired legs and a few press-ups. My lungs are bursting, but it’s the most exhilarating workout of my life. Everything feels toned, with my arms and shoulders feeling particularly strong. I’d go again.

David Lloyd has 17 centres in London offering cardio tennis. Prices vary – a monthly membership pass at Finchley starts from £88, davidlloyd.co.uk

Body combat

‘This is a religion’

"It’s anything but the stuffy, middle­-class sport people think tennis is"

A non-contact martial arts-based workout, body combat originated in New Zealand 10 years ago, inspired­ by karate, tae­kwondo, kung fu, kickboxing, muay thai and tai chi.

“It attracts a lot of nutters,” says instructor Dee Ralph. “They get a taste for that release of tension.”

At the start of the session, Ralph barks: “Visualise your opponent!”

Still deciding between my ex-boyfriend and the bloke who impounded my car two weeks ago, I’m plunged into the initial “power track”: a combination of punches and lunges to get your heart rate up.

Using moves like the “travelling kick” and the “speed ball”, an hour-long session is more than just good cardiovascular exercise; it works all the main muscle groups, particularly the triceps, biceps, hamstrings, and quads. It’s also good for abdominal strength, along with improving your speed and agility.

There’s a soundtrack of ­tinnitus-inducing happy hardcore, and a heap of shouting. As one panting devotee says: “This is a religion.”

But there’s no need for knowledge of martial arts and, unlike other fighting classes, the emphasis is on having fun, not on your technique.

I’m left satisfyingly sweaty and feeling a bit like an extra in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Aching but energised, I’m left twice as ­exhausted as I am after my usual light jog and I’ve found thigh muscles I never knew I had. Car impounders best steer clear.

Session held at Virgin Active gym in Putney. A one-day guest pass gets you into a class for £15.

Find classes at other gyms through: lesmills.com/bodycombat

Boxercise

'I’m left pregnant with a slab of concrete’

In a shabby, old-school gym humming with man-sweat, boxercise trainer and ex-UK champ Clinton McKenzie puts me through my paces.

Boxercise is a gruelling, hour-long workout, combining­ punching, skipping, sit-ups and anything else ­McKenzie decides to punish me with.

Trainers are specifically qualified in boxercise, a regime that focuses more on burning calories than knockout techniques.

“Boxers are the fittest ­athletes in the world,” he says. “It’s about more than just strength, it’s stamina, agility and flexibility.”

The session starts a good 40 minutes late but, once we get going, I start warming to his enthusiasm.

He has me laying into a punch bag, an energy-­sapping workout for the ­triceps and biceps but also the back muscles, which strain to keep me upright. Then on to skipping, which leaves my calf muscles ­wondering what they had done to deserve such treatment, while I’m left pregnant with a slab of concrete thanks to a round of sit-ups.

Left to my own devices, I wouldn’t have achieved half the repetitions – McKenzie’s one-on-one motivation makes all the difference. A thorough workout.

A month’s membership at McKenzie Boxercise gym in Tulse Hill is £60, mckenzieboxercise.com