Ballet

Today is Wednesday. That means yesterday was Tuesday. Do you know what Tuesday means? Ballet. And hobbling. But the hobbling isn't important now. just the ballet.

No, I am not a ballerina. Ballet and I had a brief, slightly painful relationship when I was young. Very young. As in we skipped around the gym in a big circle young. Yup, call me ballerina.

I have no talent whatsoever. I'm not even sure of my ability to touch my toes. Oh, and I definitely don't have the body shape or weight to be a ballet person. But I'm doing it.

Ballet is always very exciting. It exposes me to things I never dreamed I could do. For example, has your foot ever managed to look like a head of cauliflower? It's remarkable the resemblance between my ballet foot and a head of cauliflower. I've taken to calling it cauliflower foot.

Try this. Point your toes as hard as you can. Harder. Harder! Feel the cramp? Now, continue to try to point your foot while it is cramping. Voila! Cauliflower foot.

You know something else interesting about ballet? Not only does it induce cauliflower foot in the uninitiated, it also involves a lot of straddles and split doing, both on the ground and in the air. Nope, not joking. Guess how close I can get to the straddles and the splits. Okay, you caught me. I'm not close at all. So, while everyone else in the class is almost down flat, completely spread apart, I'm having trouble holding myself up because I'm almost not close enough to the ground to be able to hold myself up, but I know if I stop holding myself up something somewhere that should not be torn will be torn.

My favorite part of the one hour class is unquestionably the last 7 minutes when my instructor stands up and claps her hands and says it is time to do some jumping to get our heart rates up. Oh dear. If it is time to get my heart rate up then what was it that my heart was doing for the last 53 minutes? Because if it wasn't up I don't want to get it up. Ever.