No one keeps data on how many Americans dance salsa, but the numbers are clearly rising, says Albert Torres, a 45-year-old Puerto Rican from New York who has organized some of the most spectacular salsa gigs in Southern California. After long lingering in the shadows of New York's vibrant Latin nightlife, Torres says, Los Angeles is finally claiming a spot at the center of the salsa universe. "L.A. is becoming the mecca, for various reasons," said Torres, who promotes salsa at three clubs in Los Angeles, including the Boathouse. "New York is the capital. But even New Yorkers believe the baton is being passed to Los Angeles."

The first hour was the class, which involved lots of starting and stopping. It was difficult to really pump up my heart rate. When the class ended, I set out to get a workout. Whatever they are like off the dance floor, men who take up salsa tend to comport themselves in the spirit of the dance, which requires at least the pretense of machismo. That means that generally men ask women to dance--as well as take the lead on the dance floor. With my mission to keep moving, though, I had to be a little aggressive. I propped myself at the edge of the dance floor and shot out those seductive looks I had just learned in class. (Some salsa skills are highly transferable.)

Later, I learned that the aerobic benefits of salsa are no secret. Laura Canellias, who teaches a Cardio Salsa class on Saturday mornings at 3rd Street Dance near the Beverly Center, takes beginning Latin dance moves and incorporates a few athletic maneuvers--arm circles during salsa side breaks, leg lifts in the merengue and lunges in the cha-cha. At the Boathouse, I ran into an old friend who confessed to a serious salsa addiction that took her out dancing several times a week. I told her what I was doing. She was not surprised.