Ebb and flow of relearning ballet....staying patient

In my quest to regain some ability in ballet, I knew that there would be challenges.  Challenges in regards to time.  Challenges in lost flexibility.  Challenges due to the extra weight I am currently carrying.  (Good news ~ 4.5 hours of intense dance class per week has already started to make the weight drop!)  Challenges of being embarrassed in front of people that may not know my life, and may think that I am really just that bad!

First position is coming along.

I told myself to be patient when I started.  Told myself that I should look for a major breakthrough by Christmas.  Told myself that I need to anticipate that I will be frustrated, that I will get annoyed with myself, that I will progress slowly.  I told myself to be patient.......guess what I am not good at??

Oh yes - you are right about the jetes en tournant and pirouettes, I am not very good at those either.  However, I was referring to the issue that I am not good at being patient!  I do see a little progress each class.  I hit a barre exercise more concisely.  I lift my leg a little higher.  My face gets ever closer to my knee.  I just had a day today where I wanted it all, and I wanted it now.

Most classes, I leave on a cloud and an endorphin high.  Today, I felt frustrated and tired due to the slowness I perceive.  My teacher said good job on the barre, and gave me some arm pointers.  So this probably is mainly my perception and not necessarily the view of others.  I know in my core I cannot afford to allow these thoughts to creep in and steal away my joy.  Who knows how many more days we have to dance on this earth?

Yesterday, a good friend passed away after a many years long struggle and fight with breast cancer.  She has two daughters the same ages as my two sons.  My two sons lost their father to cancer in December 2010.  Not to be morose, but we have to grab life while it is in front of us.....within our reach.....within our sights.

This fifth will do for now!
I need to use it to get where I want to go!

During the barre, I gave it my all.  Still fell short.  I am not quick enough, not strong enough, cannot extend my leg up to the sky.  But I gave it my all.  I pulled my knees up, pulled all my bones and body up while pushing into the ground and searching for my inner force.  It hurt my brain, frankly.  I ended up sitting out during most of the floor section of class.  I stretched on the sidelines, and watched the other dancers.  Usually I am right there in the mix of it all.  Today, my mind just went on overdrive, and I could not follow the routine, or absorb the instruction.

So does this make me conflicted?  I want to go for it.....and I was on the sidelines for part of the class.  Argh.

Lazy Ballerina. I didn't go to class today.

I did not have a valid reason or even a lame excuse.  I did not stay out partying last night, or wake up with a headache, or oversleep.  Nothing.  Just did not go. (Okay - my favorite NFL team, the Baltimore Ravens, have a critical game against the Dallas Cowboys which started at 10:00 a.m......and I wanted to be here for the kick off.  Does that count?)

I feel like I should go buy a
bottle of 'Lazy Ballerina' wine
today and drink it before
my stretching exercises.

A split decision has been made in my mind that I am not going to make a bigger deal out of this than it is.  I will make up the class tomorrow morning, and will get back on schedule Tuesday.  If I freak out over not going, it could spiral into missing more classes, and I do not want that to happen.

Also, I can do a massive stretching session here at the house - perhaps even while watching the game.  (If I am able to post a blog between plays, I think I can stretch.)

One of the reasons going back to dance has been the joy that comes with keeping a promise to myself, that really only has to do with me.  As any parent or spouse (or anyone who is a family member of any kind to anyone, frankly) can tell you, oftentimes we become so committed to keeping the promises we make to others that we can lose sight of ourselves.  Isn't it ironic that we even become almost obsessed with helping others keep the promises they made to themselves....nearly like a coach on the sidelines watching others execute plays in life that we are not doing ourselves.

My friend Deborah's adorable
son made a "lollipop farm"!

Anyway, I have made the most of this morning off.  I enjoyed coffee in bed, watched CBS Sunday Morning, and the pregame shows.  Hired some people to work on my Farmtown farm (which I am happy to say is often neglected - lol).  Caught up with friends back East in the virtual pseudo-intimacy created on social networking sites with pictures of Junior's lollipop farm in the backyard and Jane's angst with her roommate situation.  A like here, a witty retort there, a sarcastic sting here.




I pormise to push myself all the harder tomorrow morning, and let you all know what unfolds.  'Cuz I know I will never get to this -

If I do not go to class.

(Okay - when you are done laughing hysterically - yes, I realize I may never get there.  The chances are ZERO if I don't go to class though.  You are welcome for the hearty laughter!)

My face almost touched my knee!

We have a breakthrough!

After struggling to get my left hip to turn out as much as the right (it has made for an interesting fifth position), it finally worked better today.  And my face was closer to my leg than it has been in many a moon.  The best news of the day is that at the end of class, the teacher said, "Hey Brid-get, much better today....it is coming back.....good job."

That made me feel pretty good.

Maybe I did a better job today because we had a visiting spectator.  The studio is on 4th St in downtown Santa Monica on a lovely studio with floor to ceiling glass windows lining the street.  I am not sure if any of your readers are aware of this or not, but we also have a fair amount of homeless people in Santa Monica.  This morning, a gentlemen decided to walk up the window front of the studio, press his face against it (which frankly was not necessary as the windows are not tinted) and stare at us.  And stared some more.  Then he moved a few steps down the line, pressed his face against the window again, and stared at us.  He was watching our barre moves closer than Nigel Lythgoe watching contestants on "So You Think You Can Dance".  At first I was a little bit unnerved.  I looked around and no one else noticed nor cared, which led me to believe it is not the first time this has happened.  Anyway, I decided to do my best and push harder since we had an audience.

One of the reasons I stopped dancing (trust me - not the main reason or the only reason) was a car accident that I had in high school that injured my left hip and both legs.  Boys, sports, school dances, boys, kissing boys, and music crowded ballet out.  I did go back for jazz class after recuperating from the accident, but not ballet.  And I think I convinced myself mentally that I couldn't do it anymore because my hip would never be the same.  Then, my friend Matt ran a marathon.  Now I know lots of people run marathons, but Matt was my age and had not run since high school because he fell and hurt himself at some point, and convinced himself he couldn't run.  One day a few years ago, his mother said to him that the injury wasn't that bad, and how long was he going to let an imaginary hurt, and imaginary pain, keep him from living a full life?  She may not have said that directly to me, however, I heard her loud and clear.

I still need to work on the left hip. And jumps.  And turns.  And......well.......everything.  That being said, I am still happy with my progress, and how my muscles seem to be remembering things.  It is still a bit of a riot.  Easily the most fun (and the funniest) thing that I have done in years.

What imaginary pain do you have in your life?  When will you let it go?

My vote is for today. :-)

I wish my plie's went as low as my unbidden thoughts....

I have hit a new low.  And unfortunately, it was not with a plie or a lunge to the floor.  Or my comedic attempts at the splits (it seems like an awkward person that has fallen inadvertantly over a chasm.....).  No, the new low was in two thoughts that popped into my head during class the other morning.  I made a commitment to be honest about this process in my blog, so I am going to share this with you even though it is hard.

So, class started the other morning, and I was stretching at the bar, trying desperately to bend further down, closer to my legs, keeping my knees straight, then rolling up slowly.  When I was upright again, I noticed someone coming in to class that I had not seen before, and I swear the first two thoughts in my head were the following, "Oh there is someone older and fatter than me!!"  Honestly.  And it was a feeling of elation.  I gave her a head nod and motioned that there was space beside me on the barre.  I wondered if she would be more flexible (which she was) and if she would be better at ballet in general (which OF COURSE she was!!).

I was amazed that my mind went there so quickly and so....so......subconciously!  I love people of all shapes and sizes, and am not overly catty nor peculiar about makeup or appearance.  I can tell you that having her beside me, doing so well, inspired me to push myself especially hard.  Maybe I was punishing myself for having what I felt were "Mean Girl" thoughts.

Anyway, by the end of class, after seeing how graceful she was on the floor portion of the class, we spoke for a bit, and walked out to our cars together.  She is an digital animator.  We swapped business cards.  I actually look forward to seeing her again in class, and not for those immediate thoughts either.

I do feel that the studio I am attending has created a wonderful atmosphere.  It is called "the Dance Doctor" and is owned by acclaimed dancer and choreographer John Cassese.  http://www.dancedoctor.com/  I have felt welcomed and supported from day 1.  Clearly, this dancer has felt the same way.  It is a wonderful atmosphere.  Our teacher, Eduard, instills that we are not competing with each other.

After the class, I felt bad that I had had those thoughts, unbidden, pop into my mind.  I relayed the incident to my husband, and he said, "Women are weird."  I looked at him and said, "Oh, and men aren't?"  He quickly replied, "Well we are not looking at people who come in the door and thinking 'oh - he is older and fatter than me!' and being happy about it!"  While we laughed about it, and I told him how much I actually clicked with her, it made me think a bit about men and women, and how we can get so caught up in our own thoughts and insecurities, even when we are usually strong, confident people.

It seems to me that dance is terribly thought provoking!

Have you ever seen an English Bulldog in a tutu?

Well, during the floor portion of dance class this morning, I had a moment where and image popped unbeckoned into my mind's eye.  I felt like an English Bulldog in a tutu attempting ballet, surrounded by luxurious, exuberant Afghan hounds.

This is me!  I would like to point out that even though that image popped into my mind, I was still smiling!  (as the dog in the photo is too.)  Funny, now that I look at the picture, I was also breathing heavy, and probably slack jawed as well.












This is the rest of the class......leaping impossibly high,  landing as delicately as a feather wafting down to the ground, exuberantly expressing themselves through their finely honed craft.

I kept right on going.  I am not so sure why the floor part of the class has been harder for me than the barre portion so far.  I suppose it is because you are more exposed and alone on the floor......the barre is a sort of security blanket that I can hold onto, that added measure of security that I am probably not going to fall.  Out on the floor, it is just you, yourself, and ...well, you.

I stopped to talk to the instructor after the last class and shared with him that my mind recalls most of what he is instructing us to do when he relays the sequences to us, but that my body is not able to do it.  He said to just get out there and keep trying.  I was wondering if I should watch and observe the other dancers for awhile and then make my attempts at the floor.  "No" was his answer.  Get out there today, go for it, and do the best you can today.

So that is what this little bulldog did.  As long as I could.  I have to admit that halfway through the last set, my mind literally went on overload, and I bailed out.  My brain shut down, and said, "Enough for today".  It was the last group and the last sequence  - I nearly made it.

On a practical note, the instructor suggested that I watch some refresher videos online to get my jumps and turns back in shape.  I will have to see what www.youtube.com has in store to help - he says there is a lot to choose from out there.

How soon before I feel like an Afghan too?

There is no way of knowing.  However, I have already noticed some serious changes in myself!  Even though it has only been a few classes since my return to ballet, I noticed that I am standing taller, with my shoulders down and back, and with my neck straight and long, and my head straight on my shoulders.  I have been holding myself up, as if a string is pulling the crown of my head to the sky.  This is how I used to carry myself.  Now, I am again.

When I sit - forget it.  The schlumpy habits of someone who had let go a bit are still holding strong.  But when I stand up, I feel a familiar presence of the strong girl I once was......and the seeds of the Afghan hound I will become.


(**Photography on this post is not mine - the photos are from Bing Images.)

The second ballet class.....I went!

So, one quick side note - even though I worked hard at the first class, and the class lasts one and a hlaf hours, I was not very sore the next day!

At 7:00 Thursday morning, I opened my eyes in a somewhat suspicious way, squinted at the clock, and said to myself, "You are going to class."  I got up, chugged a coffee, and threw on my other new leotard and pair of tights, a white skirt, and got ready to go.  I did not even allow myself to think about whether or not I would go!

Made it to class and decided to jump in with both feet - I pulled off the skirt and went up to the barre, deciding in that moment that one of the ways to make this transformation and reconnection easier and more fluid is to just be at peace with where I am today and see how far I can go tomorrow.  Funny, no one laughed or pointed or looked at me twice.

We commenced with stretching at the barre, and the teacher came over and gave me a few extra pointers on foot placement and how to get the most out of the stretches we were doing.  It was such a welcoming touch....I felt like he was speaking to me as if he already knew me.

After an hour of barre routines, we had a free stretch time.  I was looking around the room while stretching, and it dawned on me that nearly all of my close friends right now were all from work, or parents of my kid's friends.  Now, I am not criticizing my current friends - they are fantastic!  However, i realized that might be one of the reasons that I was feeling a bit stifled, a bit like a hamster on a wheel.  It felt good to know that I was branching out and meeting people that were in an entire different circle of life.

It was interesting to note that today, there was a young man in the class.  He appeared to be in his early 20's, and was giving it his all.  When we were moving the barres to the side to get ready for the floor part of the class, the teacher introduced me to him, and let me know that he had NEVER danced ballet until a year ago!  He was doing so well, I would never have guessed it.

After class, there was a happy chatter as we gathered or items and changed out of our shoes.  One of the ladies sells dance skirts as a side business, and there were several ladies around a table oohing and ahhing and holding little skirts up to their little waists and picking colors and laces.  Patty, the skirt seller, waved me over, and asked if I wanted a skirt.  Such a little thing, but I am convinced it is one of the reasons I left with a big smile on my face.  

I am using a part of my brain that has been ignored, parts of my body that have been dormant, and talking to people that do not need or want anything from me relating to work!

The young man was heading for the door and I skipped to catch up with him.  While we walked to the garage together, I asked him what had made him start ballet last year.  He told me that he is a dance major at a local college, and he had to take it for his degree.  However, he has enjoyed it so much, he plans to continue.

So do I.  :-)

Back to the Barre......after three decades....

So, after feeling a bit blah, a bit run down by the rat race and routine of life, about two weeks ago, I decided to reclaim a bit of my life, a bit of my time, and return to something I loved when I was a child.  I decided to sign up for a ballet class.  That's right - a ballet class.

I had thought about returning to ballet many times over the past ten years or so, but never actually did it.  It was always a passing fancy, another "to-do" item on a list that was already too full and incomplete, another expense when the money was not quite going far enough to begin with.  Each time I thought about it before, I would tell myself that I had to get in shape first, get out of debt first, take care of the kids first, find a mate first - the list went on and on.  Plus, it had literally been decades since I had done it!

However, this time when the thought crossed my mind - it was different.

I took action.

I literally called a dance studio and asked this question, "Do you have a ballet class for out of shape, middle aged women who haven't danced ballet in about 30 years?"  Surprisingly, the young man on the other end of the phone said, "Yes - everyday at 8:00 or 8:30, depending on the day.  First class is free - come on by."  Well well.....I hadn't realy expected that answer.

The next day, I went on a discount dance supply website, and ordered two pairs of Capezio convertible tights, two black leotards (they come in my size! hooray!), and a pair of leather Capezio split soled ballet shoes.  Paid a few bucks extra for faster delivery (did not want to lose m momentum).  I vowed to attend the very next class after my items arrived.

They arrived.  I felt the same thrill that I did as a young girl when Mom would get new ballet shoes and tights for me.  And, true to my word, I got up the next morning, struggled into the tights and leotard, threw on some yoga pants, and headed for class.

Now let me tell you something - if you want to make better food and exercise choices in life immediately - put on a pair of pink tights and a black leotard!  It was funny because I do not suffer from extreme body issues.  I wear bikinis even though I am not perfect, and am confident about my appeal and looks.  But this was just different!  Maybe because it had been so long since I had seen myself in that getup, and the change was so dramatic.

Anyway, off I went to the class.  I signed in, recognized the voice of the young man behind the counter as the young man I spoke with on the phone, and we chatted for a few minutes.  He reassured me that "people like me" come in at least once a month.

I wandered over to the bench with butterflies on my stomach, and put on my shoes.  Glancing around the studio, I sussed out the other students.  Easily, I outweighed the next closest dancer by thirty pounds!  Oh and did I mention she is 6 and a half months pregnant?  The rest of the group - I am easily 50 pounds more.  They are light and lithe and willowy yet powerful.....I felt like Professor Umbridge from Harry Potter.  At least I was here - you have to start somewhere, right?

I wondered if I would be welcomed into the pack, or if they were a tightly knit group that I would always be looking at through a window.  That question was answered quickly when Georgia, a lovely redhead walked over and introduced herself, and started chatting with me, introducing me to other dancers, who all greeted me with a smile and an outstretched hand.

I introduced myself to the teacher and told him that this was my first class in about thirty years.  He picked out a spot for me at the barre, and we started.  Now I had every intention of removing the yoga pants when class started (they are not really condusive to barre work AND it was about 3 degrees hotter than Hades in there), but I lost my nerve and wore them through the whole class!  Truly surprised myself.  I am usually similar to Cartman from 'South Park' with an "I do what I want" attitude.  Shut down that morning.

As the class progressed, whilst dripping with sweat from my scalp to the soles of my feet, I watched the best dancer to my right and to my left and worked to force my body to move in the old ways.  Would my hips still turn out?  Would I remember how to execute the basic positions?  Would I fall on my face?  Or butt?  I actually made it through, surprised by the muscle memory in my body.  While there are certainly things I cannot do, my body remembered an awful lot!  And I did not fall.

The funniest thing is that when I left, after dancing (or attempting to) for an hour and a half, instead of feeling exhausted and out of breath - I felt almost euphoric.  Happy, joyful, light, and excited.  The class tapped into feelings about myself that had been covered up and hidden away for a long, long time.

So - I am committed to going to class for at least 6 months (although I am pretty sure I have rediscovered something that I will not let go of again ever).  I will be going three days per week whenever possible.  And I will chronicle the challenges, progressions, foibles, and hilarities that will ensue on this blog.  I would encourage anyone reading this blog to think about something they used to do that they loved as a child or a teenager, and do it again.  Please let me know if you are joining me in this journey!