It has dawned on me that I am in my 30s
I've been meaning to get regular exercise for the longest longest time. I'm skinny so I don't need to lose weight. But I am also weak. And that is neither good, nor fun. When I am pregnant or nursing, these are my excuses to not exercise. But in reality, I can exercise despite these conditions. In the past years, I've found that the only motivation that would get me off my sorry lazy ass is if we have a trip abroad coming up. Since I don't want to waste our time in a foreign land sitting around, catching my breath, about a month before we leave I start walking everyday for about an hour to an hour and a half, sometimes while carrying weights. I raise my stamina and strength and make the most of our out of town trips. But as soon as we get back, I revert to being the bed potato that I am.
Finally, at the beginning of summer, when I found the presence of mind to enroll my daughters into ballet class, I also enrolled myself into Basic Jazz at the same dance studio. I haven't done any serious dancing in more than 10 years and I have never in my life done jazz. The peak of my dancing was back in college, when I did it for about 3 months straight, 3 times a week, 3 hours each session. It was brutal. I had giant bruises on my knees and I was always tired, but I really enjoyed it. I only quit because I couldn't keep up with the training AND studies AND social life at the time. Plus they made us run for an hour straight one session. I never came back after than. Hehe. I really really cannot abide by running. I will dance in heels for an hour straight but I will not run.
Anyway, fast forward 12 years and three children later, I am dancing again. I first heard of this class from the mommy of a former classmate of Lia so I figured I'd be in a class with other women like myself. Surprise! I entered a studio full of teenagers. When our teacher asked us our ages, they were all 12-15. Yes. Less than HALF my age! And to make matters worse, all but one of them had ballet backgrounds. Which meant they can make their bodies do all sorts of crazy things like touch their toes without bending their knees.
These young, lithe, graceful, happy girls flitted around like butterflies and I felt like a toad, as if my knees didn't even bend the right way. When I poured my frustrations on to Facebook, I got a lot of encouragement and was reminded that I'm probably in better shape now than they will be when THEY are in their thirties and had already given birth three times. After that, whenever I felt frustrated at how well they were doing and how awful I was, I would imagine them pregnant or in labor, or taking care of three small children under the age of 5 and I must admit it made me feel better. And then after one session when the young happy graceful girls were absent, I missed them. And realized I did my best when they were around because I needed to beat them. After that I didn't imagine them in labor anymore.
Right now, I can feel my body slightly stronger and slightly more flexible. I still get confused by crazy ballet steps like chasse and pas de bourree and it seems every time I finally get a step right (by right, it only means my various limbs were in the right positions at the right times, but it does not necessarily look graceful), the teacher comes up with a new torturous way of doing these steps, like turning while kicking or moving both feet AND arms. But I'm getting the routine and it makes me feel good. I'm quite happy I'm not part of the recital at the end of the month. After all recitals are to reassure parents that they haven't wasted their money on dance classes. Maybe if I am able to take this class for a whole year straight, I'll have the courage to perform on stage with the young happy butterflies. But for now I have to concentrate on not tripping over my own feet.
I've tried running, and all I could think while running is THE PAIN THE PAIN! WHY AM I DOING THIS?! I've also tried yoga a few times and each time the words on repeat in my head is I CAN'T BREATH. THIS IS NOT FUN! I used to think I didn't like these activities because I'm not good at it and I like dancing because while I'm not the best, I'm reasonably skilled. However, it turns out, Jazz kicks my ass, and I have no jazz dance skills at all. And yet I kept coming back so that I've reached the point where after the dance class, I no longer feel exhausted, but instead I feel energized. I don't know why I like dancing. I do know that I love it, even if it sneers at me with disdain. And while I will never be as good as my classmates who have been dancing all their lives, I hope to get to dance till the end of mine.
Finally, at the beginning of summer, when I found the presence of mind to enroll my daughters into ballet class, I also enrolled myself into Basic Jazz at the same dance studio. I haven't done any serious dancing in more than 10 years and I have never in my life done jazz. The peak of my dancing was back in college, when I did it for about 3 months straight, 3 times a week, 3 hours each session. It was brutal. I had giant bruises on my knees and I was always tired, but I really enjoyed it. I only quit because I couldn't keep up with the training AND studies AND social life at the time. Plus they made us run for an hour straight one session. I never came back after than. Hehe. I really really cannot abide by running. I will dance in heels for an hour straight but I will not run.
Anyway, fast forward 12 years and three children later, I am dancing again. I first heard of this class from the mommy of a former classmate of Lia so I figured I'd be in a class with other women like myself. Surprise! I entered a studio full of teenagers. When our teacher asked us our ages, they were all 12-15. Yes. Less than HALF my age! And to make matters worse, all but one of them had ballet backgrounds. Which meant they can make their bodies do all sorts of crazy things like touch their toes without bending their knees.
These young, lithe, graceful, happy girls flitted around like butterflies and I felt like a toad, as if my knees didn't even bend the right way. When I poured my frustrations on to Facebook, I got a lot of encouragement and was reminded that I'm probably in better shape now than they will be when THEY are in their thirties and had already given birth three times. After that, whenever I felt frustrated at how well they were doing and how awful I was, I would imagine them pregnant or in labor, or taking care of three small children under the age of 5 and I must admit it made me feel better. And then after one session when the young happy graceful girls were absent, I missed them. And realized I did my best when they were around because I needed to beat them. After that I didn't imagine them in labor anymore.
Right now, I can feel my body slightly stronger and slightly more flexible. I still get confused by crazy ballet steps like chasse and pas de bourree and it seems every time I finally get a step right (by right, it only means my various limbs were in the right positions at the right times, but it does not necessarily look graceful), the teacher comes up with a new torturous way of doing these steps, like turning while kicking or moving both feet AND arms. But I'm getting the routine and it makes me feel good. I'm quite happy I'm not part of the recital at the end of the month. After all recitals are to reassure parents that they haven't wasted their money on dance classes. Maybe if I am able to take this class for a whole year straight, I'll have the courage to perform on stage with the young happy butterflies. But for now I have to concentrate on not tripping over my own feet.
I've tried running, and all I could think while running is THE PAIN THE PAIN! WHY AM I DOING THIS?! I've also tried yoga a few times and each time the words on repeat in my head is I CAN'T BREATH. THIS IS NOT FUN! I used to think I didn't like these activities because I'm not good at it and I like dancing because while I'm not the best, I'm reasonably skilled. However, it turns out, Jazz kicks my ass, and I have no jazz dance skills at all. And yet I kept coming back so that I've reached the point where after the dance class, I no longer feel exhausted, but instead I feel energized. I don't know why I like dancing. I do know that I love it, even if it sneers at me with disdain. And while I will never be as good as my classmates who have been dancing all their lives, I hope to get to dance till the end of mine.