This is a txt exchange between myself and the lovely @QueeieBradshaw after my first pole dance class. She obviously loves and supports me.
When I told my sister, her response was “Ooh! Sexy!”
Sure. If your idea of sexy is a doughy Lucille Ball trying desperately to climb a pole while a crowd of shocked strangers watch on in horror, then yes. Sexy. Extremely.
I have always admired strippers for their athleticism. My friends and I have a rule. If you are at the rail, you must tip every time a stripper does a pole trick. But people. I had no idea. You place your knee against the pole. You smile in the mirror, lift your chest, stick your boobs out, and slowly, with much grace and sensuality, pull your lard ass up the pole. Using all your noodle arms. Then squeeze your legs around the pole, let go with your hands, yes, holding on with nothing but your, now screaming, bruised inner thighs, grab higher and pull yourself up again. Rinse and repeat.
Unless you are me.
My little noodle arms nearly got me off the ground when the instructor, foreseeing certain doom, came over and suggested that I might want to simply practice mounting the pole for the rest of the class. I had thought of ALL the skills needed, that MOUNTING THE POLE would be the one I would have down.
Damn that co-sleeping!
Of course, by the time we even touched the pole, we had spent an hour stretching. The lovely instructor sat gracefully on her yoga mat in front of the class saying the names of body parts I know I have, but then requesting that you put them next to other body parts that… she might as well have been telling me to stick my elbow in my ear.
At one point I thought I was actually able to get into a position. I was so proud of myself! Until I realized that was the beginning of the move that we were to do, not once, not twice, but ten times. I laughed a little louder then anticipated (especially when no laughter at all was what was expected) and drew all attention the fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own sweat and tears when the rest of the class had just begun.
Today. Twenty four hours later, I am still unable to wipe without some pretty intense pain. But in a good way. Obviously we are going to need to invest in a fancier toilet if I’m to continue to take these classes.
And I will continue to take these classes, although I did cancel my aerial class for tomorrow. I’m barely able to wipe. Flinging myself around a room with a scarf is out of the question. I’m not even sure I could drive myself there right now anyway.
I’ve wanted to take a pole class for ages. I keep hearing what a great core and upper body work out it is, and those are two areas that could totally use a work out. After two plus years of infertility treatments, the only upper body strength I have left are my mondo texting thumbs and my popeye-esque left arm from carting a 30+ pound toddler around who, despite being able to wing from the chandelier and bounce off the walls, is unable to walk from the car to the grocery store cart.
2013 is going to be a year of change, challenge and accomplishment for me. It’s just January and I’ve already run my first 5k and taken my first pole class, as well as the two big changes at the tail end of 2012, going gluten free and starting a series of serious peels that have already, half way through, completely changed my skin for the better.
At 44, I feel better then I have in ages. And I feel I look better then I have in years. Unless I’m in a pole class having my ass handed to me by a tiny, unbelievably bendy 60 year old woman with 2 percent body fat..
What are you doing to make your life better in 2013? Have any, dare I put this out there… challenges for me for 2013? Let’s all make it an amazing, memorable year!