The Ides of March. Or Whatever.

"You are so good at this"
That's a nice thing to hear your teacher say, while standing directly behind you at the barre. We were, for the record, doing some crazy développé variation that included strange fondu-esque synchronized leg straightening. I was hitting it out of the park, I guess. Because I am just a badass like that. In all honesty it's probably the only thing I did well all night, but you have to take what you can get.
I've also been getting a lot of praise on my posture, lately. I have two lovely curves in my spine which freaked out my pediatrician and make standing up straight a matter of opinion more than anything else. I get SO much crap for my posture. Like, constant crap. For some reason I recently tried straightening my back by pulling my pelvis all out of whack and pushing back as hard as I possibly can with the lower third of my spine. Apparently that did the trick. It does make balances easier, I'll give it that.

Blargh. March. I really hate March. Nothing good happens in March. I am having a hard time not feeling like punching everyone I meet right now, so please excuse the terrible lag in blog posts! I am winding up for a VERY long and stressful Spring and Summer, in which I will be working like a dog and trying to be a good maid of honor at the same time. Recital season is approaching fast and I've already been tasked with figuring out how to turn a bunch of kids in to geese and a bunch more in to water lilies (water lilies are... they are round, flat, green things. Here ya go, kid, I made you a swathe of green spandex stretched over a hula hoop. Now look graceful! Haaa... no. I promise not to make any small children suffer. Much.) Mostly I am looking forward to September, simply because I will be done with all these obligations. That should tell you something.

terrifying, honestly

BAM! And she's doing piqué turns en pointe, everybody.
'Betta recognize, mothafuckas.*

*EVERY single time I try to type "mothafucka" it comes out as "mothfucka". I don't even know.

Minor Improvements That Must be Fought For

Sometimes breakthroughs are exceptional. A moment of clarity and suddenly you are doing something you've never dreamed of.
But, let's face it, mostly you get tiny imperceptible improvements over the course of three solid months of work and the final product can really only justifiably be called "less bad than it was".
Take this petite allegro combination that the students have all come to dread. It's not even complicated, it's just glissades, jetés, and assemblés. But it's quick and it changes directions halfway through and pretty much everyone hates it. Last night, for the first time since we've been working on it (ages! Ages have been put in to this damn thing!) I watched myself in the mirror and felt like it wasn't pitiably terrible, just kind of a wreck. There was, perhaps, a slight bounce in my proverbial bungee. PERHAPS.

Also new: apparently the studio where I take ballet has been voted "best yoga studio" in the city. Which is interesting, I must say, because they don't actually offer any yoga classes. We all think they should accept the award and put it on the front desk just to mess with people.

Halcyon days of yore, balletversary!

This week is my three year balletversary! And my one year pointeversary (even though I have spent so much time out with injuries that it's more like month 9 or 10)! In celebration I executed my first real, full, honest-to-god pirouette en pointe last night! In truth, I am pretty sure I did it backwards. But, we were ALL doing them backwards (it's easier because the momentum of pushing off your working leg automatically pulls you around toward your center) so I am not going to complain too much. 
I am now going to be out of class for a couple of weeks while I take a well-earned vacation with my hubby and then have (not earned at all!) oral surgery about which I have been having panic attacks (two hours awake with people in my mouth! ARGH!) so they prescribed me an anti-anxiety drug called (I am not kidding) "Halcion". Ah ha ha. I see what you did there.

Taking a Break Pays Off

After the excitement of the recital our teacher (who basically does everything involving the recital) took a much-deserved two week vacation. I only went to class once during the entire time. I know, I know. But really, there were things, and life, and... just stuff. Stuff was happening. My very best friend ended up in the hospital. I had to work until 8 pm for several days in a row, and then not get home until 11 on a couple more.
And I just didn't want to.
Sometimes it's okay to not want to.
So, this Tuesday was my first day back in a while. Annnnnnd... I got complimented on my improved articulation through tendu in to battement, degage, etc. And not a single posture correction. Thursday was my first pointe class in nearly a month. That also went swimmingly, I progressed significantly in pirouette prep. and finally nailed down the shape my foot is supposed to be achieving at the barre.
What is my secret? What was my daily regimen? Uh... nothing. I didn't stretch, practice, or even bother to think too much about ballet in the time I was away. I read a book that had some dancing in it, does that count? 
Well, then.
Maybe a break was what I needed.

Shit Just Got Real

For the past few weeks I have been failing horribly to keep up with the relevés/calf lifts/basically anything at all with any potential to increase strength. I've been going up to brush my teeth at night and just feeling so exhausted that the entire concept of doing anything more demanding than sitting on the toilet lid while my electric toothbrush magically cleans my teeth for me is just TOO much. But there is no choice, now, dudes. I had better double down or GTFO.
Because tonight my teacher looked at me pointedly and told me she wanted to test me in to pointe within the next few weeks.
To which I say: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Basically.

praise in high places

E-mail I got from my teacher this morning:
"You are looking stronger and stronger in class. I'm really impressed by your progress. I keep forgetting to tell you this when you are in class, so now I've done it and you know what I'm seeing."
WHAAAAT?
Girl, you know I am one of the worst people in class, but thank you anyway.
It all went to my head a little bit and I found myself volunteering to alter and hem four slippy-slimy satin circle skirts by Tuesday. That's right, people, the way to make me volunteer to do gross chores for you is to say nice things about me. As a particularly ill-contrived* ex of mine used to say "flattery will get you everywhere".

* the relationship was ill-contrived, not him. I mean, maybe he was, I don't know. I didn't feel comfortable asking his mom those kind of questions.

I'd Like to Thank the Little People. Oh Crap, Did I Already Use That Joke Title?

More compliments? They had better watch out or I might start, I dunno, believing them or something.
After mixed-level class tonight my teacher assured me that I had "improved dramatically".
Of course, when I started taking class a year and a half ago I could barely make it through pliés, so YES, there has been dramatic improvement. It just never feels like it when you are the only person in a room full of students that is doing a pirouette and everyone else is doing the thing they are actually supposed to be doing.
For example, during petite allegro tonight I was having one of those "I totally can't follow what the music is doing so I am just going to have to make it up as I go" moments. I have a lot of those moments. I came away from class with this thoroughly stuck in my head:

What can I say, Dad played me a lot of 60's music when I was a kid.

Alliterative Reflections After Class

You know you're an adult ballet student/arthritic old lady when... you find yourself saying "you know what I'd really like for an anniversary present, honey? Compression socks"

After class last night a couple of people told me that I had improved a lot in the last couple of months. One of the compliment fairies (like tooth fairies? Only they bring you compliments instead of taking teeth?) was our perpetually perfect, pretty, and perky (puhpuhpuhpuh) teenager who always kicks all our old asses out there on the floor. It was nice but seemed really strange. I always feel a bit like the class I am in is the hardest class I have ever taken, you know? Like... maybe I'm getting worse. Or more tired. Or for some reason I just haven't got the mojo working this time. But then the next class comes along and I feel the EXACT SAME WAY. I think the rush of endorphins dulls your memory.

Promotion!

Who just got promoted?
That's right.
ME!
Level THREE like it ain't no thang!
WOOOOO!

On Friday I will ask about schedules and such. With luck I can start going to one level 1-2 and one level 3 class next week. If I am not so lucky it will have to wait until September, but I am feeling pretty chuffed one way or the other.
Also SCARED TO DEATH!
NOOOOOOOoooooo! I still feel like the world is out to get me when I hit a particularly long stretch of fondues and I can't hook chaînés turns together quickly while still being able to spot my way out of a hole. And what about balancing? I feel like I am total rubbish at balancing. So I will give this a shot but I MIGHT DIE, GUYS.

In reality, when I look at where I started last September (in the very worst physical condition of my life) I am pretty impressed with myself in spite of everything.

The future is here, it's bright, it's now.
(That was a Regina Spektor reference. In case you were lost, there. Sorry. That is what happens in my brain, sometimes.)

Yoga For the Elderly, Decrepit, and Infirm

So, many moons ago (back in August, after my Summer job ended but before I started taking ballet) I was in the worst shape of my life and was seriously having trouble with the little things. Pain had become a constant in my life and I had just folded in on myself. Along with everything else, rheumatic conditions come along with a physical exhaustion that was not helped at all by the medications I had been prescribed, one of which is a sedative. And, my Summer job is HARD WORK, it's terribly brutal to my wrists and hands. I bring wrist braces to work and coat myself from the elbows down in Icy Hot two or three times a day. So, exercise? Not even happening. But, I decided that I was done looking sadly at the ballet studio's class schedules and that it was time to DO IT.
I knew I was out of shape and that it was going to be hard for me to get back in to the groove of regular exercise. So I decided I was going to do yoga every day in preparation for this whole ballet business. When I was in high school I came home every weekday afternoon and did yoga on the living room floor. My favorite things to do were shoulder stands (woo!) and sun salutation. I knew I couldn't put any weight on my hands and wrists anymore, so those were probably out. I looked around on Netflix and found "healing yoga for aches and pains" by these people. They aren't too annoying considering what else is out there (I have a preeeeeetty low opinion of most video exercise instructors).
I did it for a few days and I was feeling good! It was seriously difficult, though. I mean, really hard work. Now, this is what I affectionately call "old people yoga". Most of it is done sitting in a chair. Everything is modified for stability. But even so, MAN did I have a hard time with it. GEEZE. At one point in the video there is a modification of "eagle pose" (in which you cross your arms over each other at the elbow and link your hands to one another with your palms together) and it was so impossible that I quickly did a screen grab and this happened:

Anyway, so it was hard, but I was feeling progress. Unfortunately by the end of week one something was terribly wrong. My knees hurt. And so I stopped doing anything that could bother them. No weight bearing poses. Nothing. But then... they kept hurting.
They never stopped.
I started ballet class not long after that. The knees slowly became a part of my life. My doctor increased the dose on my pills. I learned to sleep with a heating pad and ice packs and spend as much time as possible in bed on any day when I knew I was going to be dancing. And yoga? I kind of forgot it.
So last week I decided to try out old "healing yoga for aches and pains" again. After all these months of ballet the entire thing is easier in a major way. It's not something you would notice if you were doing it consistently, but after a break for several months the difference is obvious. I still can't do anything that places my weight on my knees, though, so I have to skip the one posture they teach that involves that.
I was feeling pretty cocky about it after a few days and decided to try out another one of their videos, "yoga for common conditions". And boy howdey, that was a mistake. After the first three postures all involved either kneeling or folding the legs, I gave up. I can't even sit cross-legged on the floor anymore. So, my search for a new and gentle yoga program for ancient old codgers continues.
Updates as they become available!

circle to the right

This is the floor next to the barre. The glare from the overhead lights makes it hard to see, but I find the row of perfectly aligned half-circles directly next to the seam to be pretty fascinating. That is a lot of pointe shoes doing a lot of rond de jambes! I always use that seam as a way to place myself the correct distance from the barre. If my working leg just touches the seam with the end of my toes then I am about right.