I need to lose 10 pounds. Okay, I need to lose 15 pounds- the more honest number. I am somewhat stalled out, however. I walk/run (okay, mostly walk) everyday and do yoga- uh, sporadically. So, I decided I needed to mix things up a bit, jump-start my way to weight-loss/fitness/ and general awesomeness.
Enter, the Irish dance class.
Two of my daughters are involved with Irish dance. It’s very physical, looks fun, has great music and looks very genteel. I like the way the dancers glide around and make it look so effortless. Effortless- I know it is not, I watch my daughters practicing daily.
So, I was decided- here was a fun way to burn some calories. An added plus would be the reels and jigs I could whip out during Christmas parties, etc.
The first class
My first class was very tough, half-way through my legs were like jelly. The next day I had to ice my aching ankles and calves- I declared victory! My plan for rapid getting into shape and general fabulous-ness was right on target.
Enter, the second class.
I arrived for class, and hung out with the other dancers- sipping water bottles, warming up, stretching. I decided I liked this culture…being one of the dancers- I had no illusions of doing competitions etc.
-but wouldn’t it be great to be part of this group of athletes? Working hard, using our muscles, being graceful. It was flash dance people, flash dance! I was feeling it. I became resolved to stick with it, and become a serious dancer/athlete.
{Litheness, I had a new goal- I want to be lithe, gosh darn it!}
My instructor was not so patient and slow-going this time. I was very quickly taught two more dances (when I was having trouble getting though dance number one in time to the very fast music). Then, horror of horrors…I was taken out to join the young dancers and expected to dance all 3 dances with them. Two of the dances I had just learned. Or, attempted to learn.
And, I had to do this -to music.
And, I had to do this -to music.
Did I mention how fast the music is?
From my back row position, I attempted to keep up, forgetting many steps- not able to jump very high and count and breathe -all at the same time.
From my back row position, I fell more and more behind in the dances. I became confused on which dance we were actually doing. I became confused on which was right and which was left. Which way were we supposed to be facing?
From my back row position, I could see all the other girls dance on, as I had to stop to just breathe.
From my back row position, I was able to ponder and reflect the folly and faux pas of wearing shorts with the word “dance” on your bottom.
*It was brought home to me that if an athletic teen Celtic dancer cannot pull this look off while doing a jig. No one can.
I was renewed in my resolve to never let my daughters own such an article of clothing. I was now, resolute.
This was the one gem I took home with me from this experience into dance. The only gem.
*Because, I quit.
I’m 30 something and I’m done with humiliation.