Category Archives: aerials

A Few Thoughts, Late In The Evening

I’ve been trying to sort out the unique flavor of my feeling of anticipation about my upcoming trapeze performance, and I think I’ve finally sorted it.

I was surprised by this sense that I don’t want the next few days to slip away too fast — I’m not prone to stage fright. Rather the opposite, in fact: I’m essentially a giant show-off by nature, but shy around strangers in small groups. Give me a stage or a podium, and I’m good.

So why, I kept wondering, is my anticipation not the unadulterated OMG OMG I am going to explode if Saturday doesn’t get here soon! of my childhood?

And then I got it: this is the feeling of knowing that it will be over as soon as it begins. We get one night: for me, 2 minutes and 30 seconds. It will be amazing — and then it will be over. It would be easy to get so caught up in eager anticipation that I actually don’t experience the actual thing, let alone this whole week.

I don’t want to get caught up in the anticipation of this singular moment in the future — our first-ever trapeze performance — and miss now.

Right now, my summer looks a little like a running start off a cliff into a wild, exhilarating wingsuit flight. It would be easy to miss the whole thing if I let my monkey mind run away with me. Anticipation has its merits, but it can definitely take the but in its teeth and run.

So I’m going to work on being present for the next few days. Really, I guess, that’s work we should be doing always — but some moments make better examples than others of why that is.

image

Shamelessly stolen from Hendy Mp/Solent News via The Telegraph.

So, in short: here is good. And I’m going to try to be here, now.

Working Out The Kinks

…By which I don’t mean taking a certain band to the gym 😉

I think it’s fair to say that I’ve done a bunch of injuring myself in the past two years.

I think it’s also fair to say that I’m getting better at managing injuries and recovering from them — at reasonable share of which is learning, through trial and error, what “rest” means in relationship to various injuries if you’re a dancer and/or an aerialist (and, for that matter, what “rest” means in general as someone that my physiotherapist spouse defines as “an extreme athlete” — read, if you’re a serious dancer or aerialist, that’s you! Hi!).

Perhaps unsurprisingly, then, I’ve found myself doing a fair bit of reflection on why I’m injuring all the things and how I might, you know, stop that. (Or at least mostly stop.)

I’ve concluded that there are three major components:

  1. REST!
  2. Balance.
  3. Learning when to say “when.”

Let’s start with Point the Third: Learning When to Say “When.”

Like most dancers, I take pride in my ability to listen to my body in certain regards.

I know when I’m hungry, and I know when I’m full. I know when I should eat all the salty pommes frites and when I shouldn’t. I know when I need a freaking salad. I know that I should not have more than one beer when I have class the next day (so, basically, ever; we’ll address that under the heading of REST).

I more or less know when I’m really freaking tired and should just Go the F**k to Sleep (hint: I realize that I’m acting like a poorly-socialized two-year-old; shortly thereafter, I put my cranky behind to bed).

I know … okay, I almost know … how to not spend all my money on dance and aerials (I really did need that fourth dance belt; there might not be even one laundromat in Cincinnati, and more importantly, I might be too tired to bother! Also, it is totally important to have twenty pairs of tights and three pairs of ballet shoes and special socks that you basically only use for modern class and … okay, maybe I’m not that great at this one yet).

But when it comes to classes, I’m not great at knowing when I just plain need to STAHP.

Or, at least, I wasn’t.

Recently, I’ve tried a slow-and-steady approach to getting back into class after an injury. Amazingly, just as every physiotehrapist and exercise scientist and coach and trainer and ballet instructor on earth would’ve predicted, it worked!

I didn’t completely forget how to dance. My legs did not fall off. I did not lose my single knee-hang on both sides (though I’m still working back into it on the left, because when you basically completely disengage your adductors for a couple weeks, they detrain pretty fast).

I’m now working out the series of kinks (not injuries so much as low-level irritations) that I accumulated while compensating for my most recent injury: weirdness in my back; knee and calf fatigue on the opposite side. My right calf was a wee bit sore by the time we finished petit allegro on Wednesday, but not so much that it felt like I should skip grand allegro. I rolled the dice and it worked out, but I’ll probably need to think carefully about that tomorrow, too.

And every other day, for the rest of my life.

Okay. So that covers the whole “know when to say when” thing. On to Point the Second: Balance.

While this isn’t quite how things work in the real world, it’s usually more or less functionally accurate to acknowledge that when you increase strength, you reduce flexibility.

This is a problem for normal people, but it’s a huge problem for hypermobile people.

In short, if you don’t pay attention to muscle balance when you train and/or you don’t stretch adequately (or you overstretch, or — worst of all, if you do some of each), you can throw your whole body out of whack.

That goes double if your body isn’t strung together very securely in the first place (that is, if you’re hypermobile).

I would like to show you a picture.

Here:

Group-Candlestand-3

Top Row: Janie, Me. Bottom Row: Amy, Courtney. Both Rows: COMPLETELY FREAKING AWESOME. Also, I am astoundingly modest today, amirite?

On the face of it, this just looks like a really cool acro-balancing pile (and, for the most part, that’s completely accurate).

However, ballet wonks will notice that my eyes say Armand (from La Dame Aux Camélias) while my hands say OMG DON QUIXOTE!!!!!1!!oneone

Which is what they say ALL. THE. TIME. unless I pay a ton of attention to what I’m doing with them.

I hear about this in essentially every class ever, unless I pay a ton of attention to what I’m doing with them.

All this is more or less the result of muscle imbalance. I don’t always stretch adequately after aerials classes, nor do I do much to counteract the effects of working on aerial apparati in terms of strength balance — so unless I think very hard about making my hands soft and graceful, they do this*.

*Okay, it might also partly be a personality trait: as a dancer, I tend to operate in one of two default modes — I have no idea what I’m doing right now or I am such a cocky little badass, depending. The fact that it was specifically the Russian dance in Nutcracker that made me want to take up ballet probably tells you essentially everything you need to know.

Anyway, until I started being really conscious about stretching my hands after trapeze, silks, lyra, and mixed apparatus, this was making my hands hurt, because things were pulling on other things in unbalanced ways.

The whole disaster with my pelvis started more or less the same way. I neglected to train the bottom third of my abdominal muscles, and things pulled other things out of whack — and since my connective tissue is unusually stretchy, they got really, really out of whack.

So, in short, things that train strength need to be balanced with things that train flexibility and vice-versa. Likewise, when you train the crap out of your adductors, you should also do some work on your abductors. And so on.

And, of course, training needs to be balanced with every dancer’s favorite four-letter word:

Point the First: REST.

The process of getting stronger is essentially one of creating tiny tears in your muscles, then letting them heal.

Guess what makes them heal?

REST.

Likewise, the process of accumulating explicit knowledge requires rest. A great deal of memory consolidation, as far as we can tell, takes place during sleep.

Also, the brain itself gets tired. The brain needs rest, too (and not just sleep: sometimes the brain just needs to, like, kick back and sit on its cerebral porch and watch the world go by).

And ballet, modern dance, and aerials need the brain.

Moreover, all kinds of injury-preventive functions, from equilibrium to coordination to proprioception to decision making, are compromised by fatigue and sleep-deprivation.

You know what one weird trick combats fatigue and sleep-deprivation?

Say it with me:

REST.

(Also, sleep.)

I also need a fair amount of rest when it comes to that whole Being Around Humans thing.

I am very much an introvert in the sense that I recharge by being alone: like, really alone. Like, “Don’t bust up in my kitchen on one of my designated Leave Me Alone days and start chatting with me and expect me to be anything other than a complete b1tch” alone.

So, basically, I’ve done a piss-poor job giving myself adequate rest. Even on the days that are supposed to be my days off, for the past several weeks, I’ve had to go out and get things done and be among humans, which has more or less literally been making me insane (seriously, sobbing-on-the-floor-in-the-kitchen-at-9-PM-on-Monday, snapping-at-my-best-friends-for-no-reason insane).

So, yeah. That’s part of injury prevention for me, too: first, because I get really, really tense, which makes the tight muscles tighter and increases the likelihood of strains and so forth; second, because I have enough trouble sleeping without being, as my old roommate used to say, “outside my mind;” third, because it keeps me from eating people’s faces, which is definitely a kind of injury, just more for them than for me. Heh.

So here’s another picture:

WIN_20160527_13_42_04_Pro

Remember the Sabbath day and keep it whole-ly, even if you have to move it to Sunday because you have a Cube Workshop on Saturday afternoon. Also, sorry it’s fuzzy.

Please notice the dark circles under my eyes. They are what happens when I don’t sleep (also when my allergies are going crazy).

Please notice also the bold text and giant circle around it, reminding me that:

THIS REST CRAP IS IMPORTANT.

So, basically, I’ll be scheduling my rest days much more strictly (and, it appears, emphatically) in the future. I’ve also opted for one less-physically-demanding class on Tuesday and Thursday at the Cinci intensive in order to build in a little more rest.

I don’t know about you, but my long-term goal is to to be (as my trapeze instructor is) completely, mind-bendingly awesome at trapeze when I’m 50; to still be dancing when I’m 90.

It would also be great if my legs don’t fall off long before I reach either of those milestones, because I’ve got a pretty long way to go, frankly.

Paying attention to moderation, balance, and REST are probably the keys, really, to making that happen.

So that’s what I’m going to do, even if it kills me.

…Wait, no that’s not quite what I’m going for. In fact, to some extent, that’s what I’m trying to avoid.

Let’s try this again:

So that’s what I’m going to do, so all this doesn’t kill me.

Edit: Lastly, a very short clip of the juggling-while-Rola-Bola-ing bit,complete with juggling-club videobomb 😀 This was before I figured out I could plié on the Rola-Bola, pick up the balls, and start juggling without falling off.

Huzzah!

Tonight, I hopped on a Rola-Bola for the second time in my life.

And then I learned to juggle on it.

While dancing.

BTW, I can only juggle three balls, but it looks way cooler when you’re simultaneously Rola-Bola-ing.

Then our dexterity instructor paused and told me, “If there was a hat on the ground, I would totally put money in it.”

Totally going to have to perfect this and use it to avoid ever getting a job entertain my friends 😀

We snagged a little bit of video of it; I can’t wait to see it. Going to have to work on this one and get moar video!

Oh, and also awesome things happened in lyra and acro-balancing. A classmate snagged some great pix, so I’ll try to remember to repost them here.

Wednesday Class: In Which Dancers Are Hot

…Literally.

This afternoon, we all walked out of class looking like we’d showered in our dance kit.

It was completely worth it, of course — especially the delightful little grand allegro at the end.

It was another simple combination (the petit allegri were hard today; crazy fast and full of beats) — just:

Small Temps levée à droit
Chassé
Small Temps levée à gauche
Chassé
Temps levée arabesque
Failli
Glissade
Grand assemblé battu or Pas de chat or Saut de chat (“Choose Your Own Adventure”)
Reverse R/L on the opposite side, of course.

… But the focus was on the performance elements — especially arms and épaulement. The idea was for the legs to stay razor-sharp and fast while the arms were light and smooth and graceful, using a variant of Ceccheti/RAD third through first on the first four steps.

Oh, and we were to do all this whilst eating up the entire floor in one pass (not hard to do in this case; I really like to travel).

The music was also quite fast, which made for a really nice contrast between the quick legwork throughout most of the combination and the flying leap at the end.

We went in pairs, and on every run my partner did saut de chat while I did pas de chat which, as it turned out, looked quite cool. Pas de chat is one of the steps that I’m willing to say that I really do very well, and my partner’s high, fleet, linear saut de chat contrasted beautifully with my high, light, bouyant pas de chat.

It probably helped that we were similar in height and proportions.

I experimented with different arms on the pas de chat. I think for this combination, taking the arms to fifth and opening back to second through the latter part of the arc worked really nicely.

Anyway, by the time we were done, I think we were all well and fully cooked and ready for a break.

For what it’s worth, my turns were better, but my adagio was terrible today. This was definitely a class in which I felt the lingering effects of my sleeping pill. I got progressively better as the hangover effect faded — I am definitely far less coordinated on mornings like this one.

In other news, I switched to the day track for the Cinci workshop — it turns out that they were probably going to wind up canceling the evening track anyway. I’ve been very impressed with how well Mam Luft & Co have organized this thing and how promptly and smoothly they handled my request.

In trapeze class, meanwhile, I nailed down Montréal and learned a new sequence that starts with Montréal, then passes into Surfer, then into a balance whose name I can’t recall (looks much like the stag pose, only your feet are on the bar, which cants up towards the front foot), then into a hands-only spin around the leading rope to horse.

I also learned that if, as you’re spinning, your hands start to burn, you should definitely not relax your grip, no matter what your brain says, unless you’re keen on — shall we say — trying a higher voice part in choir (ahem).

Apparently, the moment that the bar connects with your “no fly zone” is also clearly visible to everyone in a the immediate vicinity. I feel heartened by the fact that everyone winced right along with me, though — and that, apparently, everything looked really good up to that point.

Also, it is totally possible to semi-gracefully dismount the trapeze before staggering over to the nearest available spot suitable for collapsing. In case you were wondering.

Fortunately, no permanent harm was done. Add to with “Bodies are weird” and “Bodies are different” the aphorism, “Sooner or later, we all walk the walk of shame.”

Which is, in case you’re wondering, more like a pinched shuffle, really.

Aerials: When “Can’t” Becomes “Can”

(Also highly relevant to dance, btw.)

I’ll start with a caveat.

As we are very fond of saying at the studio:

  1. Bodies are different.
  2. Bodies are weird.

…Which is a long way of saying that “Can’t” is okay.

As a dancer, gymnast, and equestrian, I’ve experienced a lot of that “No such thing as can’t” conditioning — I still wrestle with it frequently, though for me, it’s usually on a mental-health level or a neurological-weirdness level rather than on a physical-performance level.

Aerials have taught me that, really, the proportions of my body — which are great for dance and for most things in aerials — make some skills really hard, even potentially impossible. It’s also teaching me that, you know, that’s probably okay.

I haven’t hit a skill yet that’s really, truly impossible, but I can tell you that T-rex arms make doing a half-Russian out of a half-mill pretty freaking hard. I may or may not ever find a way to make it happen smoothly; I may have to work on it until my body finds its own special way of doing it.

That’s okay, though. Half-mill into half-Russian is one skill out of a zillion. There are other skills I can use instead.

That’s not quite a true can’t, but it’s an indication that part of me is willing to move towards a world where can’t is as okay for me as it is for other people.

We’re allowed to have can’ts. In fact, we probably should have can’ts. If we were all equally good at everything all the time, maybe there wouldn’t be room to appreciate artists, spectacular surgeons, and for those people who are amazingly gifted in the realms of the heart.

There’s some real truth to the idea that the shadows allow us to appreciate the light (and vice-versa), and while some of the can’ts in our lives hurt too much to think about them this way, others sting a lot less when we come to see them that way. (That doesn’t mean, though, that it’s wrong to fight to overcome your own personal can’ts. Probably the middle road, some of each, is the healthiest approach.)

Basically, everyone has a can’t somewhere, and that’s okay.

~

That being said, there is something I love so very, very much about aerials, and it’s this.

Every now and then, there’s this magical moment when something that used to be a can’t suddenly transforms into a can.

Of course, that’s not really how it happens.

What really happens is that you practice that skill, or other skills that train the same muscles and build related neural pathways, and then a moment arrives when, Boom! It all comes together, and it seems like a miracle.

Or, like, maybe it just is a miracle. Empiricism is great and all, but it isn’t everything.

Anyway, I had one of those moments today in mixed-apparatus class. We were doing vine climb to crescent moon (here’s an image [opens in new tab]).

This, by the way, is one of the skills that are more challenging for me because of the way I’m built. The last time I tried it, my body basically didn’t “get it,” and I haven’t done it since (not on purpose; it’s just how things have shaken out).

Today, it just happened brilliantly, beautifully. I was able to sail right into crescent moon effortlessly (and did a straight-leg variation that apparently impressed the hell out of everyone; I’m going to have to get a picture of this).

I haven’t really practiced these skills; I’ve just practiced related skills enough that it came together today — and that felt amazing.

Suddenly, this thing that used to be a can’t had magically become a can.

And that felt so good.

This is one of the things I love most about aerials (and about dance). I love those moments when things that felt like I would just never, ever be able to do them magically transform into things I can do and do well.

Those moments only happen, of course, if you stick with it — and I think that this may well be the greatest lesson that aerials and dance can teach us.

When we experience those moments in which can’t becomes can, we begin to think of ourselves differently. We begin to regard ourselves as people who are capable; as people who succeed.

Likewise, we watch other people experience that same transformation, and we begin to see them the same way.

We learn to feel this way in spite of our can’ts; in spite of those other areas in our life in which we continue to be less than able.

If we are fortunate, we learn to see past those areas; we learn to see that they are not barriers to a kind of overall can.

For what it’s worth, I think this is the same knowledge that good support services for people with disabilities imparts.

I used to think of myself more as someone who couldn’t: someone whose neurology stood in the way of success. A lot of parts of day-to-day life are hard for me in ways that can be really frustrating and even demoralizing, and for a long time I internalized the hell out of that. I felt like I had to fight with everything in me to wrestle that set of can’ts into the ground; to be as “normal” as possible, no matter the cost.

Dance and aerials have taught me that my strengths lie elsewhere — and that they’re considerable.

They’ve taught me to regard myself as someone who is profoundly capable, but in ways that are maybe kind of different and not entirely compatible with the usual 9-to-5 (or 6:30, or 8:30) world.

They’ve taught me that those ways of being capable are good, and valuable, and actually pretty awesome.

That opportunity should be available to everyone.

Not that everyone has to reach it through aerials or dance — some people reach it through math, or the study of history, or organizing (seriously, this is probably the most under-appreciated gift in the whole of the Western world), or homemaking, or knitting, or bringing people together, or through an uncanny ability to navigate the difficult waters of the human heart.

I hope that, in time, we’ll grow into a culture that appreciates every one of these gifts (and all the others that I haven’t listed; we’d be here for the rest of forever if I tried).

One of Denis’ great gifts in working with his clients (adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities) is helping them transform their can’ts into cans; helping them reach their moments of can.

He believes in people with a kind of unshakable faith, and he helps them believe in themselves.

I have seen aerials do the same thing for so many people now — so many people come in saying, Oh, I’ll never be able to do that or I’m too weak or (as I once said) I don’t have the upper-body strength for that.

As our trainers are so fond of saying, “That’s why you come to aerials class.”

That, and to reveal the vast treasury of your undiscovered can.

Modern Monday, T… I Got Nothin’ For Tuesday

Yesterday (Monday) began not-so-well and ended brilliantly.

Modern class was, on average, more or less a wash. I had trouble waking up, and while my floorwork was good, I simply couldn’t remember much of the across-the-floor sequence.

I suspect some of that was sleep- and medication-related. I have been having trouble sleeping for …  well, for reasons that I hope are sorted now via some very blunt communication with our housemate (in summary, “Yes, I sleep that lightly; no, I cannot afford to stay up later at weekends, so Quiet Hours After 10 PM really, really means just that, or I will eat your face, kthxbai). My circadian rhythm had crept back to its natural 2-or-3-AM-is-bedtime pattern, so I finally just knocked back an Ambient on Sunday night.

I got some much-needed sleep, but I don’t think my brain was 100% online until after lunch.

That said, a post-lunch choreography session went really well (once I wrestled technology to the ground, anyway) and produced some useful material — and the extra edition of Killer Class (Mme B subbed for M BeastMode) went brilliantly.

First of all, I did all the freaking turns the right freaking way. There were no backwards turns. There were no just l-plain-failed-to-turns.

I was not channeling Derek. Zoolander.

image

Don't be this guy. (Shamelessly stolen via teh Googs.)

Second, I adaged like a boss.

I was pleased with that, because the strength of my legs is uneven at the moment (though improving every day), which mostly translates to left-supporting-leg balances being wobbly. (Y’all, it is so frustrating to pull off a really long attitude balance on the right, then barely manage one at all on the left because your hip is all loosy-goosy).

Third, I did do part of the petit allegro incorrectly on the last repeat, but only because my brain skipped over the easy part in order to get to the less-easy part.

Also, my left split is back, now that my sacrum is no longer jammed on the opposite side.

Even better, after nearly four hours of dancing, I felt sufficiently tired to sleep without pharmaceutical guidance.

Today, I played on the lyra and got stuck in the silks in Mixed Apparatus Lunch Meeting Class. The silks thing was kind of hilarious. We were practicing figure-8 foot locks one at a time up the fabrics, and (because my legs are super-strong and flexible because ballet) I climbed right up to the ceiling … Where I proceeded, somehow to get my left foot tangled while stepping out of a foot-lock.

At ground level, this is merely embarrassing. You hop around on the free foot as you extract yourself.

Fifteen feet in the air, it’s a little more complicated.

I should simply have put my right for into a foot-lock, but by the time I realized that, I’d been desperately hanging there, alternating between single short-arm hangs, until I’d already exhausted my arms. I was, at that point, freaking out not about the prospect of falling, but about the prospect of being caught by that one tangled foot and breaking or straining something.

My brain was like, “NONONO, WE NEED ALL OUR FEET FOR DANCING.”

So instead I called to Denis for help, and he reached way up and flapped the tail of the silk around until we managed to free my foot.

Silks, you guys. Sometimes, the struggle is really real.

Incidentally, I now enjoy a much healthier sense of empathy towards fishing-industry by-catch.

This miniature disaster was mitigated by a very enjoyable Flexibility & Mobility class tonight — it turned into the equivalent of a knitters’ Stitch-n-Bitch (complete with off-color jokes) as we foam-rolled ourselves into oblivion.

After, in open fly, Denis & I worked on the timings for our performance and ran through the piece several times. I ran mine on both sides, just because — it works well either way, so I can adjust as needed according to how the apparati are set up.

I’m still just really excited about the fact that I can make it through several successive runs of my trapeze routine in a row, even with the timing changes that force me to hold gravity-defying positions for ages.

I’m also happy that I feel confident running my routine on the second-highest of our traps (the ropes on the highest one are too short for the iron cross segment).

FWIW, I’ve now practiced this piece, or sequences from this piece, on four of the five trapezes that are most often rigged in our studio. Woot.

Tomorrow, it’s my usual Killer Class, so I hope the fact that I took my Ambien early will help reduce the duration of the “hangover” effect. Then I’ll be working around the house until it’s time to go to Trapeze class.

Speaking of Ambien, mine has decided that I will sleep now — so I’ll close this here.

Tandem Troubles

Tandem.

That’s two people doing the same thing at the same time, ostensibly together, though often in opposition — intentional or otherwise.

It’s complicated.

Tandem kayaks have earned the nickname “divorce boats;” likewise, “divorce bike” is a not-uncommon term for tandem bikes.

I suppose that’s understandable, given that on a tandem bike, both partners have to work, but only one gets to steer. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than the situation with a tandem kayak, where both partners can work or slack off and both partners can (attempt to) steer.

Regardless, Denis and I actually do pretty well where both tandem bikes and tandem kayaks are concerned (okay, so I do kind of yell at him on the climbs sometimes on the bike).

Tandem trapeze routines?

That might be harder.

Not that I think we’re anywhere near “divorce trapeze” territory — just, now that we’re into the meat of rehearsal, I’ve realized that he works a lot more slowly than I do.

In fact, that’s true in more than one sense — he memorizes choreography more slowly, but he also works through his movements more slowly.

The memorization part is mostly under control: he’s pretty much got his routine down, so we’re more or less online to actually really run things now.

The movement part — well, that’s a different challenge.

On one hand, it’s kinda cool. It imparts stylistic spice. We’re not two perfectly-matched RoboTraps doing almost the same moves (but in a different order) with exactly the same style. For the purpose of our piece, I think that works.

On the other hand, it’s kinda weird in terms of trying to get everything synchronized.

It makes working out the timings (which falls to me as the musical member of our daring duo) a little more challenging. It means that we’ll definitely need to rehearse the piece together a couple of times, which means somehow finagling a chance to rig two single-point trapezes at the same time.

In case you’re wondering, that doesn’t happen terribly often at our studio. We usually have two double-point traps rigged and at most one single-point; people just don’t use the single-point as much (well, people who aren’t us). I’m not sure why, though it could be a function of the single-point offering some challenges that the double-point doesn’t.

Case in (single?) point: if rigged with a pivot — as ours are — the single-point trapeze can spin.

Likewise, because there’s a significant taper from the bar to the rigging, moves in the ropes can feel quite different on the single-point trapeze than on the double-point (some seem easier; some, harder — the distribution, there, seems to be highly individual).

Don’t get me wrong, though — as a performer, a choreographer, and a problem-solver, I’m rather enjoying this process. As a glutton for punishment masochist trapeze addict aficionado, I like having an excuse to play around on the trapeze more.

Doesn’t hurt that I now know that I can run my routine three or four times back-to-back without feeling over-worked, either.

Anyway, part of the solution for this challenge involves adjustments I need to make anyway — slowing my execution of the individual “tricks” (ye gods, how I cringe at that word) and transitional movements; Using All The Music; adding expression.

Another part of it involves the well-considered use of pauses; that’s fine. I don’t want to create a routine that’s mostly a series of pretty poses, but it seems reasonable to incorporate a few attractive pauses in the interest of giving Denis room (musically-speaking) to work.

We also discovered that, although I have about 1 minute and 30 seconds of actual trapeze wrestling in my routine, the other bits (we have some acro-balancing elements as our mount and our dismount, as well as a tiny, tiny bit of character dance) don’t fill all of the music.

All of this has come together to produce a kind of turn-taking format in parts of the routine, which works into our theme (the piece is called “Duelo Trapecio” — “Trapeze Duel”).

The remaining challenge will be sorting out Denis’ spin tolerance. The highlight of our piece, really, is the executing of a set of moves in the ropes — but his are done in an inversion, which makes him dizzier than it otherwise might.

Since our current final move is a two-man counterbalance that requires him to support my entire weight, that could be problematic!

At any rate, we’ve got a few more weeks to work out the kinks, and I’m pretty happy with the progress we’ve made.

I’ll be even happier when I’ve got clearance to do all the moves in my routine again. Right now, I can’t do the demi-mill roll because of my injury, which makes me haz a sad. (I know: #FirstWorldProblems.)

I shot a brief bit of video tonight, but mostly it’s me faffing around on a spinning trapeze thinking about what to do to fill a time gap in my bit of the choreography, so I’m still on the fence about posting it. OTOH, my iron cross-stag-switch-stag-iron cross looks better than it did in the previous one (I wasn’t less tired; it’s just that watching the previous video helped identify things I need to work on).

And I’m wearing bike-length shorts, so you can see my blazing calves of solid alabaster. Bleh.

Okay, well. This is now about 3 times as longer than I intended it to be, so I’ll shut up.

Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow, we have Killer Class, Trapeze 2, and Conditioning.

Only I won’t actually be doing Killer Class, because #StupidInjury.

Actual Video, Finally

So Denis totally shot this last Tuesday, and I am definitely pretty tardy in posting it. We’ve been having some internet connectivity challenges that have made larger uploads (and downloads) difficult.

I think I look pretty tired in this video, as I’d just run through this routine four times in a row, but all of the choreography is there. Next, I’ll work on adding timings (synchronizing the routine to the music) and polishing the movements to add musicality and elan.

That is, once I’m allowed to get back on the trapeze 😛

The voice in the background is Aerial K, one of our instructors, who was working with one of our friends on the lyra.

Update: Oh, and the little thing where I flap my feet to find the bar after coming down from the Iron Cross/Egg/Stag/Switch sequence is pretty hilarious.

Time To Get Serious*

*Insofar as I am capable of ever being serious about anything, ever, because I am a focused person, a dedicated person, an all-of-that-kind-of-stuff person, but serious? I’m not sure that’s the best descriptor, really, where I’m concerned.

So, yeah.

I am thinking about injuries, and my history of accumulating them, and being like, “Ha! Ohai! I haz hurted myself again,” and then basically making jokes about it because that’s way easier than actually admitting that I’m hella pissed at myself.

But, like, I am.

Pissed at myself, that is (for my Brits: I don’t mean I’m drunk at myself, I mean I’m mad at myself … this time … which you probably already knew from context because you’re smart, but somehow my inner Smart-Alec just wouldn’t let me not say it).

Or, well, I was.

And then I realized that I’m looking at this incorrectly.

Denis-02-28-2016-PointYourGolDarnToesDenis

Denis recommends a change in perspective.

I have a habit of injuring myself mildly, which just happens in Teh Ballets and in life at large sometimes, because humans can be careful but can’t be perfect.

Injuring myself mildly from time to time wouldn’t be a big deal in and of itself.

The problem is that I also then have a problem of doing things that exacerbate minor injuries and turn them into major ones, like I did this week.

I’ve been mad at myself because I was like, “That’s just careless.”

Except, it’s not. Carelessness isn’t the problem.

The problem is that I don’t perceive pain normally and I’m stupidly hypermobile (okay, and my drive to do things like dance and aerials often exceeds my limited supply of common sense).

but-a-scratch

Shamelessly stolen from Monty Python by everyone ever.

So, basically, parts of me don’t start hurting when they should, then stop hurting before they should. The level of pain I experience does not accurately reflect the severity of any given injury, nor do they reflect how much it has healed.

Theoretically, the deep muscle in my “thut” (that’s thigh-butt; you can thank my aerials instructors for that one!) that I could barely use yesterday should be causing a shedload of pain today, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all**.

**Maybe it would if I tried to do the things I’m not supposed to do. Maybe it wouldn’t. I don’t plan to find out the hard way. At any rate, it should at least be sore.

Note to self: THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT EVERYTHING IS FINE.

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Everything is fine. (Shamelessly ganked from heroviral.com.)

Likewise, parts of me stretch in ways that increase the likelihood of injury under certain circumstances. This is partly due to associated abnormalities in proprioception and pain perception (see above) and partly due to the fact that greater flexibility often correlates with reduced strength.

Not that I’m not strong; I’m just not necessarily strong in the places that will prevent me from doing things like yoinking the crap out of my turnout muscles.

O-Turns-Why

Seriously, there is absolutely nothing wrong here, guys. Everything is definitely under control.

I haven’t been treating this seriously. I’ve been too busy being delighted about the things that my abnormal pain perception and hypermobility let me do to be willing to countenance the fact that they also predispose me to injuries that I could better avoid if I was, basically, less weird.

As they say: “You take the good with the bad.” And I’ve been trying only to take the good, without accounting for the bad.

This past week, I turned a minor strain into a major one and bought myself several days off dancing and a term of about six weeks to full recovery (with appropriate management).

I wasn’t being careless. Things just didn’t hurt, so I carried on as usual. My leg was a little stiff and sore in the morning, but felt okay enough by the time class rolled around, and really quite okay indeed by the time trapeze class rolled around — so I proceeded with business as usual.

bidness

Business as usual (actual video to follow … eventually).

This is the same approach that bought me a layoff of a couple of months last year, followed by a long reconditioning period.

Obviously, a rate of one serious injury per year is quite a bit higher than is really sustainable.

So, in additional to healing, I plan to spend the next several weeks learning how to prevent injuries to my specific body. Clearly, this will mean developing both better awareness of what’s going on in my body and a greater willingness to turn to my live-in Physio (AKA my husband, Denis) when I think I have a minor injury and follow his advice.

bad-idea

This is me, not following advice (because I hadn’t asked for any). For the record, yes – that *is* the leg I strained, though this is not how I strained it. Bizarrely, that involved neither aerials nor ballet. In other news: yup, I am still pasty.

And, of course, because I like to write about everything (if nothing else, it serves as a kind of external backup drive), I’ll probably be writing about this process here.

So there you have it. Some insights about injuries that I don’t think I really had before.

Also a terrifying picture of my butt. Holy chromoly. Who stuffed ‘roid-raging weasels down my tights?!

Herp de Derp

I tried to post a video of my trapeze choreography (which is now memorized, so I’m on to working timings and applying polish!), but it failed for some reason, and then I derped out on posting class notes yesterday.

I’ll get the video up ASAP, though I think I might have to go the “Upload to YouTube > Embed to Blorg” route.

Yesterday’s Killer Class was pretty excellent, albeit hampered by the Groin Pull That Will Not Die (Why can’t I wait until the day before a week-long vacation to injure myself?! Seriously, you guys, I have a whole week in October scheduled for that kind of thing.).

The Pull didn’t like turns, so I did very few of them on the left supporting leg. I had doubles on the right (technically the left), though, so go me? Still not as good by any means as Company B’s.

Company B is a beautiful dancer, and I watch the crap out of him every time he’s in class, because I find it educational (okay, and also because OMG he’s just freaking “fearfully and wonderfully made”). Watching him yesterday, I had a huge light bulb moment that made a drastic improvement to my ballotté. I did one run-through of the final petite allegro to get that update installed, so to speak, even though I’d ducked out after the warm-up jumps.

Trapeze class was pretty good; still can’t get smoothly from half-mill to half-Russian (T-rex arms: the struggle is real!). I’m now forbidden to work on them for at least a week, anyhow, while this groin injury heals. Life is hard when you sleep with your physiotherapist.

I’m on full-time rest for the next couple of days, which is less annoying than it would be if this wasn’t Derby Weekend, which makes getting into or out of my neighborhood a nightmare and this reduces the angst factor. I definitely exacerbated the existing injury yesterday.

Best to take the rest now and heal so I will be in shape for our show and for the Cinci intensive.

And then ,no more injuries until October!