But Everything Was Beautiful at the Ballet - Almost

I got up this morning feeling like my spine was doing the fully-contorting Exorcist twist - ala Linda Blair without the head-turning-thing. This is not an unusual occurrence for me but I have a ballet class tonight and sometimes I wonder whether I’ll be able to get through it. Actually, I sometimes wonder what on earth possessed me to take it to begin with, given my age and the state of my decaying parts - but I know why - I forgot to grow up. That, and the power of influence.

Toward the end of last year, late October/early November or so, I was in the gym and noticed a woman there doing stretches at the barre. It was clear she’d had some training at some point in her life and, as often happens in a gym, after repeated sightings, we began talking. I commented on her good form and she told me that she was considering taking adult ballet at the National Ballet School. Feeling knowledgable about the subject and quite gregarious, with just the slightest amount of braggadocio, I told her that once upon a time, in a far off land when youth and flexibility were still in abundance, I had once studied ballet - in fact, I’d majored in dance and had received a scholarship.

Upon hearing this, she suggested I register for a class since the school was so conveniently located (just around the corner, really) but timidity got the better of me (I didn’t think I’d look the same as I did 30 years ago in tights), and though I considered it, I let the registration date pass.

I let the date pass but the idea remained - I mean, how hard could it be? Very hard, it would appear. In January, before the start of the 2nd session and after many angst-ridden days, i decided to ‘join up’! Become a member!

The process was not without its moments of sheer terror. In fact, on the day I was to pick up my identity card, I was so nervous, my partner volunteered to come with me - just like accompanying a 5 year-old to his first day of kindergarten. How ridiculous is that!?

It’s just that the reality of what I’d signed up for had finally sunk in and even though I am a fully grown adult male (or perhaps, because for that reason), the prospect of entering that building caused me a minor panic episode.

“God, I’m crazy!”, I thought to myself as my ability to respond to the simplest of questions melted away and babbling took its place. I think my partner had to answer in my stead because of the clangour taking place in my head from the pounding of my heart. So ridiculous! But! I got through it.

Of course, there was still the actual attending of the first class that needed to be got through and this would have to be done on my own. Believe me, it was every bit as terrifying as you might imagine. I walked into the building surrounded by little girls with their hair up in buns, feeling like some sort of lumpen beast who had inadvertently wandered away from the herd and found himself among the most delicate and rare birds - can we say, “sore thumb”?

After wandering futilely about, in search of the men’s changing room, I found myself in the bowels of the building, I think I was somewhere near the boiler room, when a kind stranger pointed me back out into the public areas and toward my sought destination. I was not brave enough for the tights and instead, changed into shorts which probably looked more ridiculous than the tights would have - oh well. These are the troubles encountered by the first-timer of an adult ballet class.

Once at the barre and the class underway, I was quite comfortable - except for one small thing; I could barely remember a single thing! This was not expected. I assumed that, like the bicycle, once you learned the steps, you would never forget them. Surprise! I’m here to tell you, you can forget them. I suppose a 30 year gap is nothing to sniff at.

Since then, things have gone relatively smoothly - I chose the right level with which to begin and I’ve made progress - well, as much progress as my body and brain will allow up to this point. Most importantly though is that I challenged myself, rose to the challenge and now feel better about having done so.

And as a result, tonight - tonight, I wear the tights...