Hi, friends.
I started doing a thing.
That thing is ballet.
People find this surprising because I am an adult who is old. (Old = over 25 in this situation.)
If you're new to knowing me, here's some background information. I danced when I was younger but I will simply say that ballet is not where we concentrated our efforts. Being that it is the foundation for all dance, we trained and did what we had to do, but I don't know that any of us were really passionate about it, including myself.
Fast forward a (very generous) few years and I find myself drawn to ballet. I'm not exactly sure why, but here I am.
I've been thinking about going back for a while now, but there are always reasons not to. Time. Money. Schedule. Convenience. Availability. I could go on; I'm really good at procrastinating these days.
There were things pushing me to do it though too. I still occasionally dance in my kitchen and I've not been happy with where my strength and flexibility are. Plus, when I took my aerial silks class, I was downright distressed by how dizzy I got. I won't bore you with my most recent tire swing adventure, just think about how rarely you see adults on tire swings. There's a reason. Apparently with proper exercise, the ability to turn and not get dizzy can come back though. Who knew?
Even with internal motivation, it was still so easy to put off, so I gave myself a deadline and bought some ballet shoes to create an obligation to power through. I told myself that after my surgery I would look into it. So, around Christmas, inspired by the bombardment of The Nutcracker from all angles and well into the evening of my thirty-seventh year, I started looking for adult ballet classes.
I didn't have to look far. At the studio right down the street, I found a few options for adults. Huzzah.
Then came scouring the internet to see what level these adults are at because it's advertised as Intermediate Adult Ballet. I don't feel intermediate. At the same time, I know I'm not a beginner either. Plus the Beginner class is on Wednesday nights so that isn't an option for me. What I needed was a class that was like, You remember most the terminology, but you're weak now and not entirely sure what will happen.
In my investigation, I saw a few photos that indicated it was not too advanced and something that said it was perfect for all levels and that everyone was welcome. Huzzah number two.
Before I signed up though, I wanted to know what the teacher was like. I looked her up online and her name was familiar, but that really means nothing. Even though her name is moderately unique, most people share their name with others so it could have been entirely coincidental. (Speaking of unique names, this poor barista howled the other day when I corrected her and told her my name wasn't Gorisa, but I digress.) I have terrible face blindness, so I sent a picture of the teacher to my friend who suffers no such affliction and she confirmed my assumption: the teacher of this class was one of my ballet teachers from when I was about ten years old. Huzzah number three.
Yes, a woman who taught me ballet 27 years ago in a different city is now teaching an adult ballet class 5 blocks away from my house. Taking this incredibly subtle hint from the universe, I registered for Intermediate Adult Ballet.
At this point, I didn't really have any excuses anymore, right?
Then came the hard part: buying the gear and showing up.
Like I said, I had already bought the shoes. Shoes have gotten better. I love them. (For those of you needing clarification, we're talking a soft ballet slipper, not a pointe shoe. I'm weird; not insane.)
I did not want to put on a leotard and tights. Who does? But that's what you do, you know? And from the pictures I saw, people generally adhere to this tradition in this class. My last ballet class was 20 years ago. 4 states. 2 kids. Again, I could go on. In sum, things have changed, including pretty much everything about my body and fitness level.
"The extra larges are right down there."
Alright.
So, that's how it's going to be.
To be fair, she knew what she was talking about and likely saved me time and embarrassment but the thing is that I have not been an extra large a day in my life and, despite having accepted that I was going to feel like a sausage, it's not what I needed to hear.
Alas, a size is just a size and I got on with my day. Tights? Check. Shorts? Check. Legwarmers? Ancient. Wildly misplaced confidence? Full of it.
Then came the big day.
I thought I might've gone to far with decking myself out in full ballet gear. Nope.
I thought I would embarrass myself which I was actually totally fine with, but I did not.
I thought I would be the youngest one. Absolutely I was. The class is at 10:30 on Friday morning and people have jobs. This was expected.
The class is awesome. It really is great for all levels and the teacher does a good job of catering corrections to where you're at personally. Nothing in the class is a contest or about trying to be the best and it is wonderful. Last week there was even a woman who started who MIGHT be younger than me. I'm so excited.
As far as the class is going for me personally? Well, ballet is hard. I have no regrets for going back though. Mentally and physically it has been extremely beneficial. That being said, ow. When I tell you that I'm finding muscles I didn't know I had it's because THEY FREAKING DISAPPEARED AND I HAD NO IDEA HOW WEAK I WAS.
Seriously. It is astonishing how much muscle memory you can retain even though none of the muscles are even there anymore. Absolutely ridiculous. I don't think I need to address flexibility, just go ahead and assume the worst. I can still point my foot though and turn. Kind of. I get super dizzy, but we all do. It's good fun.
Leaps. Sweet Jesus, have mercy. I was never a good leaper, but I could get by. This is no longer true. Have you ever tried to jump and gone nowhere? Well, I have. And despite not going anywhere, it still hurt when I landed. The human body really is a remarkable thing, isn't it?
Speaking of being old and out of shape, apparently I graduated from high school 20 years ago and it took me that long to make this massive quilt. Fine, realistically it took about two weeks but I spread it out pretty nicely. What this thing lacks in uniformity, it makes up for in cuddle factor. It's really, really wonky though, I'm not going to lie to you. It's not even a rectangle. It may look like one, but it's rectangular like bacon, so sewing it required some creativity. My camp one is much better, but done is done and toasty warm is toasty warm.
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