Dancing at the Edge of Mediocrity

I had my second ballet class last night so predictably, I am in considerable pain today. I'm woefully out of shape. Usually, physical activity ends up with the net effect of relaxing me as I'm too tired to stress out on other things. This, unfortunately, is different. I'm deeply dissatisfied with my form and balance. This will require a lot of practice to correct. Time will tell as to whether I have the self-discipline to improve or if I will settle for mediocrity.

I am given to understand that this attention to detail and the perfectionism is not unusual among dancers and that I'm fitting rather well. To my amazement, I've found a pursuit where my perfectionist streak is not only the norm but practically required. Where precision and uniformity is part of the art.

I'm home, at long last! :)

Oh, and I learnt to polka last night. Looking in the mirror that spans the entire width of the room, we didn't look half bad as dancers go...until we started moving. But we did make a straight line at the beginning, for all of 10 seconds before it started turning Escheresque. Towards the end, we didn't resemble a ballet class as much as human dodgems.

I joined ballet because I wanted to move through space with the grace and poise that dancers have in their movements. Last night was the first time that I realized just how incredibly far I am from that goal. *sigh*

Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the class considerably but it's making my joints pop in very new and probably bad ways. About 3/4 into the class yesterday I started feeling my heart skipping beats. Towards the end, I had difficulty maintaining my balance as we've been practicing for a solid 90 minutes, at a tempo not unlike vigorous aerobics. Yes, folks - my balletmistress doesn't kid around.

I'm loving it to death. Hopefully not literally.