There was a period of my life, primarily during my teens, when I wanted to be a dancer. This was not just the little girl's dream of tutus and pointe shoes. Rather, I trained nearly every day of every week. The ballet studio was my second home. I stretched twice a day and regularly sewed ribbons and elastics onto various pairs of shoes. I learned how to shellac pointe shoes so that I could get another couple of weeks out of them after my strong arches had broken them down into mush.
I still have physical reminders of those days. Bunions on both feet, the one on my right foot, just severe enough that I have thought seriously about surgery. My little toes have been mushed around and are permanently swollen in such a way that the toenails are not immediately visible. There are thick calluses on the balls of my feet at the base of my first and second toes, the result of bare-footed turns in jazz and modern classes. The first time I injured my back--at age 14--was in the middle of a partnered lift. My dodgy right ankle has its origin in the time I landed on the side of my foot, full-force, as I came out of a leap.
And that's the short list.
But...
But whenever I have tried to figure out an exercise regimen I might actually stick too, enjoy even, my mind comes back to dance.
Most of my life is lived through an intellectual, rational lens. Although I did apply theories of physics and the like in my approach to difficult moves, most of my time in dance did not involve rigorous thinking. Instead, it was a sort of moving meditation. My best dance classes were those when the rest of the world melted away and my mind and body together focused only on the combination I was performing right at that moment. The physical effort, the sweat, the strain of positioning every part of my body just so, all while matching the music's tempo and emotion--all of that combined to give me the greatest physical high I've ever experienced.
For the past year or so, I have been telling myself that I would take a dance class--once I got into better shape. And that keeps getting pushed back and I keep struggling to find a way to get there.
So I decided last month to ignore the arbitrary middle step I had created. Maybe the best way to get into shape is to do something I will enjoy. Therefore, I have enrolled in a ballet class at my university's athletic center.
Two days ago I bought my first pair of ballet slippers in close to 15 years. Off to sew some elastics...
8 comments:
Wow, I'm impressed. I desperately wanted to be a ballet dancer, not in the professional sense, but just in the sense of being able to DO it. I loved the idea of wearing pointe shoes, but after two years of lessons, it was abundantly clear that I really, really sucked. I was just terrible - no physical courage, very little sense of coordination. It was the same with gymnastics and figure skating - I had wonderful visions of myself performing axels and back flips and they just never, ever happened.
Wonderful! I need to sign up for something too.
Wow, good for you! I was like B&P but without the lessons... However, belly dance is much more grounded, and I find the same thing you do, the world disappearing. Sadly, I haven't been able to get back into since I started back to work last March. Enjoy!
that sounds so fun.
I did a ballroom class there and I thougth it was great.
How wonderful! You might inspire me to sign up for something, too--I've been feeling the need to exercise.
I'm impressed that you're a dancer!
that is absolutely wonderful! I have to admit that I may be the worst dancer in the world! But, my exercise of choice is swimming. It's the only exercise that, like you, I can get lost in.
At this point, I still find myself saying that I was a dancer. I'm hoping that my attitude changes once I'm in class.
One of the jokes in my family was that my parents were spending all this money on my dance classes and I still ran into things all the time. Somehow I could get it together on the dance floor, but it didn't translate to grace in my everyday life. And that got worse when I was pregnant and never fully improved.
good for you.
never to late to live a dream I say.
(I just started guitar lessons....)
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