Blog Archives

Stiff

So I realized a few exercises into barre tonight that I had eaten lunch way, way too early. 

Oops. 

By end of class I was both bonking hard and sweating like an unfit racehorse. I couldn’t get enough air moving through my nose to do that nifty breathing exercise I use to slow my heart rate, so I sweated far more than was actually necessary.

I was also stiff in a way that I initially interpreted as ordinary fatigue, but later realized was the result of my muscles flipping me the bird every time I asked them to do anything. That’s what I get for not feeding them enough.   

Still, excepting the repeat of one of our later pirouette exercises, during which I glanced at the mirror and immediately forgot which leg I was supposed to be on and semi-froze (seriously, WAT), things went reasonably well, with some really nice moments into the bargain. 

I don’t think I danced as beautifully, overall, as I did yesterday, but it was still a nice improvement in terms of freedom and musicality compared with what I’ve been doing lately (read: ever). 

I also kept having that weird experience of being flummoxed by frank masculinity of my body. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever get used to that. I’m slowly becoming okay with it, though: I am not a delicate little waif-twink, but I am graceful and occasionally even elegant. 

I don’t think I ever really did the math on that. As horses go, maybe I’m basically like a Friesian: strong-boned and muscular and powerful, but also graceful and elegant. I suspect on some level I’ve codified a dancer’s grace and elegance as those of an Akhal-Teke or a young Thoroughbred, but that’s not the only possibility. Trakheners and Friesians and Dutch warmbloods are also graceful and elegant. So are the baroque Spanish breeds.

I’m built for classical dressage: the restrained power of the passage and the piaffe; the explosive brilliance of the airs above the ground. 

I used to believe that the sheer mass of my body undermined the effect of adagio and so forth. Now I’m beginning to see that a powerful build lends its own magic to balances and développés and penchés. 

So there’s that.

Anyway, I’m exhausted. Tomorrow should be good, though.  

Thursday: Rain On My Parade

Since I am, by nature, a giant show-off, I joined a detachment of my fellow ballet peeps in the Pegasus Parade yesterday. 

Although the weather was drizzly and blustery, the parade was fun. Even the standing-around-for-three-hours clusterfeck was reasonably fun, since I was standing around with BG, T, C, E, AB (our in-house yoga teacher), and, um, the one girl whose name I for some reason can’t remember (apologies!). We kept each-other entertained with snark, irony, and occasional earnest conversations about what we’re doing with our lives.

After a while, myAdderall wore off because I forgot to my second dose for the day, and I remembered an important equation:

me – Adderall + standing around with nothing to do^(enough time) = idiocy

Fortunately, I did not (seriously) injure anyone with my giant umbrella. I miiiiiiiight have gotten a little too enthusiastic during a bout of umbrella fencing and poked BG in the chest (regarding which: I should probably not be allowed to have a giant umbrella until I learn how to keep a lid on things 😦 ).

The parade itself was 17 blocks of ballet walks, waltz turns, random partnering exercises, spasms of grand allegro, and occasional yoga.

My foot did not make it through without getting sore at all, but it only got a little sore.

After, I booked it to BW’s class.

Have I mentioned that I ate lunch at 11:30 and then completely failed to eat anything until after my haircut, which finished up at 9 PM?

BW’s class, truncated, was an hour of barre, slow but not easy. By the end, my feet didn’t want to point and my left leg basically argued my about brushing into an arabesque above 70 degrees and then folded into attitude on what was supposed to be a an arabesque in plié. BW said, “Let’s callgood it a day and stretch—you probably haven’t eaten since lunch, have you?”

And then I realized that, yes, I knew this feeling. It was Ballet Bonk again. Evidently, BW is great at spotting Ballet Bonk.  

So we stretched, and I asked BW to snap some pix for this month’s Suspend Challenge.

It’s Splits Time again, so here you go:

right front split

My feet were seriously unwilling to point at this, um, point. Also, my legs aren’t fully extended.

I was having trouble balancing this, and kept letting my left knee bend ever-so-slightly as a result. T-Rex problems.

This one is unintentionally creepy. On the other hand (heh), my butt looks AMAZING.

This is what we were going for, because I’m goofy: should we call this grand jeté a terre?

Pancake time, but it could just as easily be naptime. I was like, “This isn’t even really a stretch?” and BW was like, “You crazy flexible hips person!”

%d bloggers like this: