Too Legit to Quit

So I have this toenail. And it gives me guff when I forget to trim it really short, but it's usually no problem in regular shoes. It's only when it's squeezed up in ballet slippers that I remember "oh yeah, I should cut that nail". Sometimes I cut it shorter than usual, and then it gives me even MORE guff, and feels like an ingrown toenail just waiting to happen. So I always knew this was going to be a problem when I started pointe. There was never any question of that. I was trying to trim it in various ways, hoping that I would find the right solution and not end up with something nasty and ingrown.
And then yesterday it broke off.
Well. I guess that is one way to solve the problem...
This makes me a super legit ballerina now, right?

PS: it didn't break all the way off, just the end bit. It didn't hurt, and I taped it up for class tonight, which was fine. I certainly won't be wearing any open-toe shoes any time soon. Not that I do, anyway. Blech.

Pros, Toes, and the F-Bomb

Ballet season will be starting soon, and professionals will be heading back to their studios. So, where are they now? They are taking class with the variously challenged adult ballet students at my studio. What is it like taking class with a real dancer? Well, humbling. I certainly won't be dropping down in to those perfect splits anytime soon, or kicking in to a high and strong faille* with total grace and ease. On the other hand, watching some of our more advanced girls alongside the pro gives you a real appreciation for how far you actually can go as an adult recreational dancer.
I also felt good about doing my fondues on flat rather than demi-pointe because she was doing it as well.

PS: we spent our full hour of pre-pointe last night at the barre. You might think that doing a whole class of relevés would be easier than normal, but you'd be wrong. In fact, I think my feet hurt more than they ever have. Apparently my teacher recently brought home a copy of the Pointe Book and now she's all excited about trying out the exercises it recommends. I can't imagine how the girls on pointe are feeling today, I was on demi-pointe and I feel like a train wreck!



* this word is usually pronounced "fye-ee" in ballet but "file" in most fabric situations. I bet in France they don't say it either way! In fact, I just looked it up! I was right! Check it.

Hardly Workin'

I chickened out of master class on Tuesday. Well, it wasn't really so much a chicken-outing as a "there is no way in hell this is going to work out for me so I think I will just skip it"-outing. So I spent the night at home with my husband and kitties. An evening of reflection and family togetherness, if you will. Mostly what it means is that Thursday's back-to-back classes kicked my ass six ways to Sunday (of Sunday? from Sunday? I've heard it so many different ways. Almost SIX ways, I would venture.) I'm still sore. My shin splints, thankfully calm the last few months, flared up right as we were starting grande allegro. And then my foot chimed in after pre-pointe class like "what the crap do you think you are even doing, woman? This foot was made for walkin'. Walkin' not goaty-footing around like Miss Thang. Knock it off."
Why the heck does taking a few DAYS off of ballet make going back feel like the longest, hardest slog on the planet? I can't even imagine attending a studio that gives it's students the entire season off. I would just turn in to a big blob of goo over the Summer and when I came back I would probably have a heart attack.
Someone I work with often tells the tale of working at a ballet company during a Winter storm. The studio was shut down due to flooding or something and the dancers freaked out because they couldn't fathom not going to class. I can sort of see that, actually.

I Don't Need No Stinkin' Splits

So. My teacher recently instituted a break between barre and center work where we are all supposed to stretch. Which sounds great, because I really miss the guided stretches at the end of my level 1-2 classes and have no self discipline so nothing ever gets stretched at home. But we are all supposed to be using this time to work on our splits. And I decided a few months back that A) There is basically no way in hell I am ever going to be able to accomplish the splits, and B) I am okay with that.
Now, hear me out.
I did try at it for a little while (okay, for a week or two back in November), because I was all inspired by other adult dancers and their splitty achievements. But... I realized it wasn't really a goal for me. A Goal with a capital G.
You know what I really want to be able to do? Fold in half. Like this:

 

from BalletUni

or like this:

from I Have No Idea Where. Let me know if you do.

It looks easy, but it's not! Try it! I (occasionally, you know, when I remember) work on this and I can get my hands flat against the floor but closing that distance between the chest and the legs is a lot harder than it looks at first blush.

To heck with your splits, man! I couldn't even do the splits when I was a kid. And I was a super flexible kid! I was one of those that can hook her feet behind her head FOR NO REASON KNOWN TO MAN. But still! No splits! In class tonight I actually heard (and FELT HOLY COW) something in my hip go TWANG! while doing these split-achieving stretches in class. Can't we do stretches at the barre? I am okay with stretches at the barre that make my parts go twang. But on the floor? ARGH.

Pre-pointe: how it went down

Okay, so pre-pointe class. How was it? Brutal. Stone. Cold. Brutal. But I lived to tell the tale! After a full 1 1/2 hour technique class I limped in to pre-pointe. It was pretty fun, actually. Lots of strength building. Relevés at the barre. Piqué arabesques. Chaînés. You get the picture. Lots of stuff where you are hanging out on your toes. Which is good, because I actually really enjoy that strengthening stuff. Whenever the teacher says "time for piqué roll downs" or "okay, put your leg up on the barre" everyone else groans and I go "awesome! Let's do this thing!". By the time we hit that last set of continuous relevés on one foot, though, I was ready to call it a DAY.
Today I feel it in my hips more than I had expected. Probably because I was focusing really hard on proper placement when we were at the barre. Holding turn-out properly and rising directly over my second and third toes rather than wobbling up there like (let's face it, ladies) we usually do.
Today I feel like I've been in some sort of accident, only I paid for the privilege and I'm raring to go back and do it again next week! Ballet, guys. It's hard.
I gotta tell you, though. Do not pick a fight with a ballet dancer. All that tininess and fragile grace is a total illusion. She can probably kill you with one swift kick in the junk.

Related: ballet class is probably the only place where someone you don't know very well can walk up to you and stroke your inner thigh and be like "that is great, RPrin!*" and it isn't even awkward at all.

*new abbreviation for this blog's title. Because it takes too long to type the whole thing and I am king lazy bones. Looks a little like a celebrity couple name, but I promise not to divorce myself so it's okay.

Who needs feet, anyway? Not me.

You learn something new every day. For example last week I learned that trying to do chaînés turns  in your jammies is a great way to have your glasses fly off your face and possibly to step on them at the same time.

Tonight in class we were doing a new turn across the floor: attitude turns. And I guess my foot decided to cop an attitude (har har, see what I did there? I kill me. Okay, no. Sorry. Never mind.) because I suddenly felt something go "POP!" and for the rest of class it felt remarkably like I was being stabbed in the foot. The internet tells me it was probably a ... something something digital something tendon. Annnnnnd... great. Another foot injury. Hrmph! I swear, if it isn't one thing it's another.
It still hurts, though not as badly. I am trying to go easy on it tonight, anyway. I am telling myself that it was probably brought on by all of the intense driving I did over the past few days (Easter visit to my dad's place in the hills) regardless of the fact that the trouble is quite clearly in my LEFT foot.
No, no! It's driving that did it! It's driving that is terrible for me!

Also: tonight for center practice we did a little piece of choreography from Raymonda. We looked just like this, only not even at all:

Challenge Accepted

If nothing else the adult ballet blogging community keeps me motivated (this blog included). I am wretched at self-discipline. I basically have none. I have to trick myself in to keeping up with classes twice a week by paying in advance when I am not thinking about it. Oops! Nope! I already paid! I have to go! So, keeping up with doing pilates once a week and convincing myself to get down on the floor and stretch once a day has been ... well. I won't say it's been a challenge, because that would imply that I've been winning or overcoming or something. Honestly I've been pretty dreadful about it all.
One of the blogs I keep up with is written by an adult dancer who keeps making me feel awfully lazy about not getting my self-improvement on. I'm feeling terribly inspired by her 30 day challenges to herself and so I think I will steal the concept for the next month and attempt to work seriously and with focus on the little and annoying things I really need to improve. Balances and building up strength in my core/ab muscles, feet, and legs. I have been working on it here and there, but I forget about it more often than not. Perhaps having a goal and deadline in sight will encourage me to actually get on with it. There is nothing harder for me than trying to self-motivate for an inarticulate and foggy future purpose.

In ballet class news: we started doing cabrioles. Which is the name of a small model car from the 80s or something, isn't it? My spell checker informs me that, no, it was cabriolet. Well, fine then. Never mind. Cabrioles, on the other hand, are not anything like as easy as you would think. Also: stupidly painful with shin splints! There are days when I just can't figure out why I took up ballet. There is so much jumping! I should have taken a country line dancing class or something...

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT? NEVER MIND. BALLET IS BEAUTIFUL.

Sigh...

Shins: an Update

I think that what my shin splints really needed was for me to take a week off from class. Probably two or three weeks, really, but fuck if I'm doing that unless I have to, right? In any case I felt good enough tonight to do petite allegro (you know, not well or anything, but I certainly won't blame that on shin splints) AND sauté  arabesques. I skipped changements, though. I figure if I am only recovered enough to do half of the stuff, then it's going to be the stuff that doesn't suck.
We also started a new thing: pas de basque. Which is a silly little rock side to side and is a lot of fun. I think character roles are probably way more fun than classical roles. I know, I know. The mere thought is some sort of heresy. But you know? I just like to dance. It doesn't really matter what type of dancing it is. I had a great time when I used to take belly dance lessons. When we were young and hip enough to know all the bands and go out to clubs every weekend I thought drunken swirling around was pretty fun. Heck, I even enjoyed the dreaded square dancing in elementary school.
*shrug*

Oh, and I know I've been having some sort of ballet-related dreams lately, but I get all distracted by other stuff and forget all about it. You know, stuff like... being on a space station and flying rapidly toward the window, knowing that I'm going to break through it and implode in a vacuum. Or being at some symposium on historical reenactment and idly fooling around with the claymore (the sword not the land mine. ALTHOUGH...) of the audience member sitting in front of me and then realizing it's my ex boyfriend. Yeah. Like that doesn't mean anything...

sigh...

the toes know... s?

My first ballet-related toe injury, my ring toenail (is there a ring finger equivalent on your foot?) tore up my middle toe during class tonight. And thus a lesson was learned about cutting your nails before class.
At least it was an honest ballet injury. A badge of honor if you will. At least I can clutch my proverbial fist dramatically to my bosom while sighing about sacrificing myself for my art. Which is more than I can say about my badly bruised and formerly bleeding big toenail on the same foot. 'Oh no. That one was accomplished via the most physically graceful moment of my life.
I... stubbed it. On the floor. While I was sitting down.

Sigh...

Proceed only if you want to see the gruesome evidence (and you promise not to judge how callusy my toes are) I'm also not entirely sure if my baby toenail is bruised or what the heck is going on there. Edited to add: after seeing this entry pop up in the blog aggregate site I use, I noticed that it doesn't protect the innocent from the picture of my yucky toes. So I added a photo of my cat's tummy in an attempt to rectify the situation.

Big Week

Last week felt like a big week for me.
Thursday I had my long-awaited and much-anticipated appointment with my doctor. I explained what the situation was with my knees and while the whole thing is basically tied in to the rheumatism (everything is tied in to the rheumatism, including the stupid little skin rash I have developed) he thinks it looks like something called Patello-Femoral Syndrome (PFS). It basically means that I have to keep taking anti-inflammatory drugs (which I couldn't get through a day without, anyway) and start going back to a physical therapist to try to get my leg muscles even stronger to stabilize the connective tissues in my knees. I always forget why I like my doctor, so a visit every year is important just so I don't go on a rampage and kill everyone at Kaiser. My doctor has a very good bedside manner (and if you know Kaiser then you know how rare that can be) and is always willing to take longer than the allotted ten minutes to talk to me. He might not always hit the nail on the head, but at this point I think he's the best I am going to do while using this HMO. We looked at my x-rays (from way back in November) together so I could actually see what was going on in there structurally. The bones look good, still smooth and round in the places they need to be smooth and round. Connective tissues do not show up on x-rays so the rest of it is kind of conjecture. Looking at the symptoms, though, the diagnoses is at least closer to the mark than anything else we've tried in the past ten months.
Anyway, the good news is that (as of November) there didn't seem to be a leap toward degeneration in the joint. Only time will tell, but there it is. I can deal with pain. What I can't deal with is fusing in to a solid lump that cannot move at all anymore. They will undoubtedly tell me not to do a lot of jumps in ballet class. But I will cross that bridge when I get to it.

Friday's class was terribly small. There were only four of us for barre, and then just three for center work! It felt very strange. The Friday class is usually packed beyond capacity so I am not sure what was going on there. Summer vacations? Because we were so low on students the class was extremely intense and exhausting. We did grands jetés, which was fun and new, and I think I may be getting very slightly better at chaînés turns, though they are still sort of hit and miss. I asked about class schedules and my teacher thinks I should try out the level 3-5 class (because I can't make it to the regular level 3 class until September) and see what I think. I may give it a shot, but probably not until late in July. Until then I am totally happy where I am and still feel challenged enough not to be bored.

Not fo' pussies, yo!

Of the top 9 Google search terms that direct traffic to this blog 6 are about Princess Leia. One is about Hugh Laurie.
How about them apples?

I'm exhausted today. I don't know why, really. After Friday's class I felt okay. And then Saturday my husband and I went out picking up trash along the river for a little while, which involves walking and hiking up and down inclines. But I didn't feel too bad after that, either. Sunday I managed to not get any sleep (I could blame the fact that we're adjusting my meds again, I could blame the pain that started up in my knee, but really it is because I was on a Pinterest tear. Oh joy! A place to pin all my favorite pictures of shoes and ballerinas! It's like it was made just for me! Sigh.) so I felt kind of awful all day yesterday. And there was this horrible deep ache in my right knee. Worse than usual. But I spent some time giving myself a deep massage in the area that hurt the worst (let me tell you, it's not a soothing massage. It's like finding a spot that hurts and then shoving on it so hard and for so long that you need to go take a lie down. Remarkably, however, it helps.) so I haven't been as bad today.
But class kicked me to the curb. Fondu usually kills me, but this was a remarkably long stretch of fondues. Oh man. KILLER.
And then there were 48 changements. I tried to do them low and as gently as possible.
But Jesus. It's like she's trying to kill us.
Ballet is NOT for pussies.

Grands Battements, Bitches!

I was really enjoying grands battements last night. I don't know why, because my hips make this distressing *pop!* every single time I battement to the front. But, I was just really in to it last night. Like HELL YEAH I can grands battement! Check this OUT bitches!
I suppose my extension is slightly better than it used to be. To the side, anyway, I can even get to or above 90* (I think). Maybe that is it. Or maybe ballet is just FUN.

Stupid Pain. Nobody Likes you.

I know, I know. Posty McPostalot. But I'm suffering from an excess of things to talk about. I wrote this whole post here and then realized that it was just me complaining. BUT. I think that part of the reason this blog exists is so that I can complain. I can complain about pain and I can elate about ballet. Or complain about ballet. That will happen too, sometimes. Anyway, the next two paragraphs are the uncut and pure pity party post (P!P!P!) that I started out with. The stuff at the end is BALLET TALKIN' MMKAY.

*******
Today my world is mostly frustratingly painful. I would like a medication that works for more than two days straight. I would also like some sort of treatment plan that would actually allow me to *do* things, rather than just lay perfectly still all day for fear of aggravating some part of my body. Sometimes it is hard not to feel like something is purposefully making life miserable for me in the most evil and spiteful way. This whole rheumatism thing only really got a sort-of diagnoses when it manifested itself in my hands and wrists. And of course I work with my hands, so it was like taking away a big important part of my self worth. Years in to this and nothing has ever helped my hands much, treatment-wise. I can certainly do things that make it worse, but I can't do anything to make it better.

It's funny, though, because my hands have been so bad for so long that unless it flares up especially badly (like it did this past summer when I was working 11 hour days in the costume shop at a local theater) I hardly even think about it that much any more. It's just a pain that I have learned to internalize and live on top of, rather than under. But the F*CKING KNEES! It's a new pain, relatively. And maybe it's the newness that makes it so much harder to take right now. And the fact that all I want to do right now is dance, and this is Not Helping That. Once in a while every joint in my body will flare up really badly and I will be on my ass for weeks, but eventually it starts to fade enough that I can start doing things again. But this, this is constant. It's like the thing that is going on in my hands, only it's in another part of my body. Always. Always. It's a little maddening. When I think of how long it took me to learn to sit on the pain in my hands (years. YEARS) it frightens the hell out of me.
*******

SO ANYWAY. I went to my first real live Ballet I class yesterday! It is technically a Ballet I/II class, but at least half of us were recent graduates from the pre-ballet class, so sorry other 4.5 people, you are stuck doing class with the slow kids for a while. I could do the stuff, mostly (my chassés and glissades are a suck-fest but that is not new information) but I get SO confused and lose my place when we are doing combinations. It's ridiculous. It's like some amusing poster you would expect to see in the kids section of the library. Where a whole class of little ballerinas is standing with their right arm in fifth and then the one little ballerina with the messy hair in the third row has her left arm in fifth. I am the tousled ballerina.

Also, someone has got to show me how to make accent gras (and the other one, the one I forget how to spell because French class was 13 years ago. Accent ay goo?) when I am typing, because cutting and pasting from wikipedia is NO GOOD. (Later... So it's spelled "egu" which is how I thought it was spelled, but it looked too stupid to be right.)