Ballet

As a part of my attempt at a more-active lifestyle,I started taking a ballet class at the same dance school that Savannah attends. (It's o.k.,you can laugh).

Are you done? (Seriously. It's not THAT funny.)

Now, first. Let me explain the setting: This dance school is for professional-hopefuls. Girls and guys with big aspirations and goals of heading to N.Y, etc.
The artistic director is the real deal, and spent his carreer dancing for the American Ballet and for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre. He still freelances all over the U.S.
The building is an old, 4 story in the downtown area of our city. The rooms are enormous, the floors are wooden, the walls are white, and the light streams in through the enormous windows that look out onto the river.
I danced for years growing up.(And as an aside, my freind Janelle and I used to laugh hysterically at the "older" ladies who took dance.) I loved it, and it is one thing that I regret giving up. SO. When the artistic director began encouraging me to take this class....I was excited. I REALLY wanted to. Race was encouraging: "SWEET. Leotard and tights, right? Go for it babe." (rolling eyes)
The time worked out so that Savannah would be taking a class simultaneously, and the boys would both be at martial arts. So after figuring out a little fancy driving/taxi duty, I jumped on it!
My first class was interesting. Not really sure what to wear to ballet anymore( I know you're wondering), I opted for a pair of dancers capri tights, short black nike shorts, a black cami top, and of course...my ballet shoes (squeal!). I thought that I looked pretty good. I tried to ignore Savannah's laughter as we walked from the car into the building.
In class there were a few other ladies who were a bit older than me, and weren't in shape AT ALL, and had never taken dance before. Most of the class was spent at the bar, and let's just say that when it came time to place our legs onto the bar, I was immediately reminded of an episode of "I Love Lucy". So, I left feeling pretty good about myself. I didn't do too shabby. And I will admit that I had more than one giggle thinking about the other ladies.

SO. It was going good. I was on my way back to my former ballerina days!

Next class: I walk in and there are only college aged girls........IN SHAPE college girls. I'm thinking, "Ummmmm...where are those older gals....from last week??" How humbling. The instructor considerably picked up the pace and difficulty of the class to match her students ability. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! The things that I used to be able to do perfectly and effortlessly and without even thinking, now require an UNIMAGINABLE amount of concentration to execute poorly!

Instructor: "A ballerina should look as if she is being beld up by an invisible string that extends from the top of her head, so that at any moment she might leave the ground effortlessly."
Um........ (snort) Not. there. yet.
My calves are still sore. I know a little more French, and I'm working on my "turn-out". My knee hurts. Can't wait till next week!

G'night,
Melissa