balletone

yes, that was the name of the class that almost killed me. In the class description at the rec. center it clearly stated that you didn't have the have any prior dance experience. Well, this I do have...not ballet, but I was actually in a recital at age 27. If you know me you may be thinking that had to have been a dare, but it was merely a wonderful way to make new friends and spend time with my sister and sister-in-law. We still can't believe we did it, but it rocked!!

Needless to say, I thought I could handle this ballet/toning class. I handled it alright...I just barely lived to tell about it. For one, I am built a bit more like an ultimate fighter/kickboxer than a ballerina. I walked in head held high, looked around to see what the norm was and proceeded to take off my shoes and socks. I found an inconspicuous place to stand, not too close, but not back row either like the baptist I was raised to be. I begin to stretch out a little. I am starting to see a pattern with the women who are walking in. They all appear to be at least 6 feet tall. My husband laughs at me when I say I am 5'4". He swears I can't be more than 5'2".

As we begin, the teacher immediately spots a new victim. She looks my way and makes sure I have a visual on myself in the mirror, for it is especially important to be able to see yourself. I want to shout out that I don't particularly enjoy having a 'visual' of my total body in these distorted mirrors or any mirror for that matter, but I refrain for fear of drawing even more attention to my short self.

She goes through a few basics for my benefit, and just standing in first position I am feeling good. I am at least flexible enough to do this part. Sure, I can make it. She proceeds through a routine of poses and moves, then reminds me to keep myself in clear sight at all times (obviously my technique was catching her eye and needed to be catching mine). She says we will go through the routine 4 or 5 times up to tempo (fast) before going to the floor to tone. I am still thinking I can handle it. I quit thinking that the third time through the 'routine' at the same time I look up at the clock and realize only about 15 minutes had passed. I was ready to leave. The arches of my feet were on fire, as were my inner thighs. Apparently kickboxers use their quads to do most of the work, and my inner thighs were not conditioned to stay in this 'first position' for very long.

After another reminder to get a visual on myself, I almost told Six Foot Six Suzie to get a visual on my rear as it was leaving the room. I managed to send her a smile in the mirror and keep on truckin'. We made it to floor exercises and I thought I was home free. I was experiencing paralysis in certain parts of my legs and neck, but figured I had made it this far so I would continue.

Have you ever sat in a mitzi (you know the old cheerleading jump?) and did leg lifts with your back leg? Try it and see how it works out for you. Ever done a ballet sit-up? Well, let's just say I know why ballerina's stomachs look like they do, and that leftover baby weight from two kids sort of gets in the way of this exercise.

I am not bitter. I am not mad at my genetic make-up. I am just simply warning anyone out there who thinks they may be up for balletone. I will stick to my old ways. I will realize I am 31, not 21. I will set limits on my workouts and know when to quit...and maybe someday I will be able to climb stairs again and have a full range of motion in my neck.