Best exercise class, ever. Hands down. (er, up. on the pole...)
There's nothing like the feeling of being able to awe an audience.
I was at my pole dancing class last night, where I am in the level 4 class - the first level 4 class taught in Calgary studio, ever. (In fact, we're on their case now about letting us know when they're going to be teaching the next level because we're all so damn impatient.) And, of course, being the most advanced makes us a little
showoffy in general. Though considered in the 5 inch heels and short shorts we dance in, showing off is not so surprising...
Our class starts at 7, and as we went in, the class that started at 6 was just finishing, doing community pole. The class that had been before us last week was the end of a level 3 class, so they didn't pay that much attention to us, other than to get a peak at what they'd be learning next time, and we only paid attention to criticise their shoes and lack of spirit. Well, this week, the class before us was the very first class of a level one class. *grin* You should have seen their faces as we dropped out pants and laced on the shoes and boots. Then, after they were finished on the poles, we started to show off, because we can. The group, as one, sat down on the benches and watched us for more than 10 minutes. Quite the little ego boost.
I've been doing these classes for 25 weeks, though the first 6 weeks were last fall in the old studio, and I have had my own pole to practice on for almost that long. So after some rough early patches (oh push-pull hand grip, how you hurt me! Between the forearm strain and the bruises on both knees from falling so many times, I thought I would never figure it out. How, it's practically second nature.), I've become pretty proficient. I can flip up by myself, while wearing the heavy shoes, without much effort. I've learned how to let go once I'm up there and to flip my torso around so i can walk out on my hands. (I just have to learn to let my thighs let go - the first time I tried I got stuck in mid air, upside down with my thighs sticking to the pole something fierce. I was by myself in the house, so there wasn't a spotter. I cursed the tearing flesh loudly the whole painful, slow way down.) I can do the flying spiral - though I did fly so much I um, damaged the paint on the wall of the studio last night, so maybe i don't have to fly that far out. I can do all sorts of spins and walks and I've only almost fallen on my face once. (I was trying a backwards showgirls, but didn't have the balance or the hands right, and barely caught myself as I fell face first towards the floor. Graceful and classy. We all had a laugh and kept going.
That's one of my favourite part of the classes. The 4 of the 5 of us have
been together since level 2, so we've bonded a certain
amount, and at least are comfortable enough to laugh around each other, as well as to cheer each other on. It's a good vibe.
Plus, it's the single most fun form of exercise, ever. (Okay, that I've tired, but
I've tried many things.) It's a great ab workout, and my arms are becoming crazy strong. Also, the heels make
everyone's legs and ass look great. The only trick is to never to stand too close to the mirrors and look at your thighs in the hot pants.
Cellulite happens, and dwelling on it will get no one anywhere. Much better to just admire your ass and leave it at that.
Labels: body, sports
John won't let me take them off
If I knew how good my new pole dancing short shorts (
http://www.lululemon.com/products/womens/bottoms/shorts_skirts/hot_hot_short) were going to look, I wouldn't have stalled on buying them and whinged so much about it. My goodness.
Labels: body, sports
God. I'm talking about sports.
I went to a hockey game last night - my first NHL playoff game ever.
I have to confess, so you understand where I'm coming from, that I'm not a huge sports fan. My father has almost zero interest in sports - he only read up who's doing what the few days before his monthly poker game so that he can be part of the conversation if it comes up. John has interest in doing sports, but not watching. Well, except for Olympic ski stuff and a little bit of playoff Calgary hockey. At least once every two months I thank John for not being interested in sports. It's not that there's anything wrong with it. It just seems, for many people, to suck hours of their lives away in front of the tv. John's father, for example. The man in crazy about European football (soccer). He wanted to miss his daughter's graduation from university because the first preliminary game of the world cup was set to go at the same time. Seriously. I will admit to watching the Olympics a lot - actually, only the winter ones, I'm not too interested in the summer events except the water sports - but that's about it. So you understand that the whole Sports Phenomena is a little alien to me. (Now, the act of
participating in sports is a totally different issue...)
So I had tickets through work and they're good seats. (Good enough I spent most of the time deciding that
Rhett Warrener, who was all scruffy with facial hair, looked like a sportsgoers Patrick Dempsey. I was sad when he took a puck to the face and had to go have a little lie down. And probably stitches.) So they're good seats, lower bowl, and the place is PACKED. My guess is full house, which is around 20,000 people. 95% who were wearing red - there's a whole 'C of Red' thing going on. Everyone is going nuts - after all, first playoff home game of the season.
And the only thing running through my head was
bread and circuses. (okay, fine, it's not cheap, but still.) It was cultish. And I've gone to more than my share of regular season and Hitmen (WHL) games, so I'm pretty used to the whole sports fan thing. But this was unbelievable. It was a cult, a mob mentality. And the yelling! Everyone around me yelling at the refs, at the players, giving advice, heckling, screaming... It was insane. I felt that I could use a good set of psychology, anthropology and sociology texts to explain what I was seeing. I mean, intellectually I get it, but to see it? To hear it? I mean, at one point the crowd was measured at 115 decibels, which is the same as an air raid siren! To know, given the hostility that came from a few crappy ref calls, that the whole place could riot? Yeah. It was pretty intense.
Thank god they won, though. 3-2. The last few minutes were pretty intense - enough so that I even got into it. (Did I mention when they score, or at the end if they've won, you can actually feel the heat from the natural gas flares they set off? It's pretty nifty.) I still don't get the whole Sports Thing, but even I agree that actually being at the game can be pretty exciting.
Now to see if I can score some Hitmen round 3 playoff tickets... They're actually doing
well.
Labels: life, sports