Day forty-one..

I kept thinking today about how I really wanted to blog when I got back to the apartment. Now that the familiar "new post" page is in front of  me, I can't think of any interesting or exciting things to tell you wonderful readers.

Well. I guess I'll start with this and see where it takes me.

Today was our last ballet class with Ms. Marino as well as our last Dunham class. I was worried that this day would never come. Or end. That somehow July 27, 2010 would continue to repeat and Dunham class would consume the rest of my life. These are honestly the types of things I think about during class to distract my brain from my convulsing body. 

Here are some of the other thoughts that float in and out during the worst hour and a half [sometimes hour and forty minutes] of my life:

"I don't think I can make it up five flights of stairs after this. Maybe I can walk up on my hands?!"

"How are we supposed to know who you are taking to when you say, 'No, not you, YOU!' We can't read your mind, nor can we see who you are starring at when we are only separated by half an inch of space."

"Good thing she can't hear what we are saying under our breath."

"Please God. I really don't think I ask for much, and maybe this is a very unreasonable thing to ask for, but please, please let me live through this."

"This has to be worse than giving birth."

"This kid keeps messing up. What the heck am I still doing this for. Ms. Peters better call him out so I don't have to do it again!"

"How can it only be 1:10?! Move faster clock! Come on and help me out!"

I'm sure I have more entertaining thoughts, I just can't remember them. That class is sort of a blur. By the time it was 1:36, she asked us to move to the center [class is over at 1:20 and the next class is at 1:30. AS. IF.] When we were doing the sort of "ritualistic" exercise [closing our eyes and rising up onto our toes, and back down again.. it's a lot harder than you think] I thought back to my very first Dunham class five weeks ago. I felt a rush of accomplishment and satisfaction. I couldn't do anything in that first class. I was stopping during exercises and feeling like a complete fool because I didn't think any of it was physically possible. After that first class I realized that what Ms. Peters was requiring us to do was entirely mental strength. Once you forced yourself fight through it [literally] and convinced your brain that it really wasn't that bad, your body could accomplish more than you ever thought possible. Today I just did it. There was no discussion in my brain. I told myself I was going to stay until she said "annnnnnd relax." I'm really proud of that. It's something that many of the dancers in our class and in the program don't understand yet. They are used to just stopping and when something is difficult. When I think about their motivation, I instantly connect it to their training. I make a mental note to never encourage that type of poor self discipline in my dancers.

As much as I really didn't like the class, I appreciate it. In a very strong love-hate relationship. I mean I really, REALLY hated that class sometimes. And now that I never have to take Dunham from Ms. Peters again, I can proudly say that it changed me, and although I seriously thought about not going, or walking out, I'm glad I stuck it out. 

[The only reason I'm saying this now is because I don't have to take it anymore. If I had written this post yesterday or last week, I wouldn't have said half of this things I am now.]

***

Three bittersweet days left : )