Back in the Saddle

After a 2-week hiatus during which I visited my friends and a very special friend in particular in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, I decided it was high time to get myself back into class. I was a little nervous to return after my vacation, not having done anything even remotely physical for so long. So it was that I found myself back in the familiar pink-and-black studio, surrounded by familiar faces and that warm, welcoming energy I so craved. The warm-up was uneventful, and then came the routine on the pole. From the minute I placed my hands on the pole and prepared to climb, I felt something was off. I couldn’t grip the pole as tightly as I used to before my vacation, and my attempts at climbing were almost as bad as they were that first day! I felt the frustration and embarrassment welling up within me. As I sat out waiting for the second group to learn the routine, I tried to comfort myself with thoughts of what it was like coming back to ballet class or even yoga after a hiatus. There were certainly plenty of times when I lifted my leg into what I felt was a lovely, perfectly extended arabesque, only to check my positioning in the mirror and see my leg a good six inches below where I had envisioned it! That disconnect was certainly nothing new, though this realization brought me only a small bit of comfort. But, as any dancer will tell you, not every class is a home run, and when you have a bad class, the only thing worse than staying is leaving. So I stuck it out until the end, and did what I could of the routine. The high that I was on throughout all of the other classes was notably, painfully absent during this one, but as a dancer friend of mine once said, “I will be brave. I will still dance, even though my tummy hurts.”