Welcome back to those who have been reading from the beginning. If this is your first time reading about my pole fitness journey, you might also want to check out The Prologue and The Beginning. For those of you who have already read those posts, then feel free to ignore the links and just read on!
My one and only pole class took place on July 20. I was excited to continue, and I truly wanted to do so. As a very busy mom with a full-time job, who just wants to stay in her pajamas on the weekends, I found that I was slacking off in terms of finding the next class to attend. My colleague, Amber, mentioned she was going to participate in a group class that would end in a showcase. I was interested!
Then, it was Thursday night; the night before the first group class and I hadn’t signed up. I believe my text to Amber said something like, I have no motivation to sign up for this class. If a text could raise its eyebrows at me and look disappointed, her text did. So I felt a little like a slacker and decided that at the very least I could check to see if the class had any more spaces. If it did, I was meant to join. If it didn’t, it wasn’t my time.
There were spaces, which meant I had to sign up because I did not want Amber to think me a slacker.
I was a bit nervous entering my first group class that would end in a showcase. This was technically my second class ever! I certainly couldn’t remember how to do any of the neat spins and tricks I learned in my first pole class. I only remembered two things: how to pole sit and how to prepare to climb. Everyone in my class had more experience than me. And they were beautiful and young and …
Needless to say, I was intimidated.
I keep being told by those who pole dance that all shapes and sizes of people participate. I get this intellectually. I do. I have a hard time really believing it. Well, that’s not true either. I do believe that “curvy girls” participate and that I shouldn’t have body shame around my own body; but at 37, after 3 kids, being about 30 pounds too heavy, I certainly feel fat and out-of-place.
At the beginning of class, I was told that we were going to dance in boots with heels. I had on a pair of 8 inch heels and I could not stop wobbling. It was suggested I hold onto a pole.
As Amy kept teaching the first 43 seconds of the choriography, I kept thanking the baby Jesus that so far all I had to do was stand, turn, walk a few steps and then stay on the ground, where it was safer to wear scary 8 inch heels. On the ground I was safe waving my legs around in the air. Standing up on those stilts equaled scary business in my mind.
I received compliments from the two ladies with the most pole experience. They were impressed that it was my second class ever and I was doing it in heels. Silently, I was still praying to the little baby Jesus for my safety.
Here is a video of Amy, founder of San francisco Pole and Dance, and the instructor for my group class. She is demoing the first 43 seconds of the group performance. For the record, those pole moves are not the moves I’ll be doing. Remember, I’m just a beginner.
The next day … my ankle hurt. I had to tape up my foot for two days. I was unsure what my pole future would look like if I was not able to rock the heels. In the meantime, while I contemplated my place in the pole world,we were receiving remails with what boots, shorts and tops we should purchase for our performance. Shopping perked me up, mostly.
Here’s a photo of my awesome legs. (See, I don’t have body image issues for all of my body parts. I think my legs kick ass!)
So that’s where I am for now. I am shopping and I am trying to be OK with the idea that I am wearing a very skimpy top and displaying my midriff to strangers.
Signing off for now,
Bay Area Blind Mom