Saturday, 21 January 2012

Don't Stop

First pole dancing class completed. Let me break it down for you.

First, I surprised by some of the girls in the class. A few were very "plain" for lack of a better word, but you could tell they were the "a lady in the streets, but a freak in the sheets" type as the class progressed.

Everything about this class is sexy. Even the warm ups. When you walk, you are instructed to sexy walk, dragging one foot behind you, swinging your hips, and touching yourself, running your fingers through your hair and down your body. Anyone that knows me, knows that this initially sent me into a fit of laughter. When we were doing some kind of wrist/hand warm up, all I could think of was "jazz hands". You know, from that cheerleading movie.

The class began with floor work. Learning the sexy cat pose, cat arched back, bicycle legs and..well....leg spreading. We were taught hip circles and grinding, even how to get up off the floor sexy manner. Everything is about sticking your butt out. Sounds pretty cool and empowering, right?  Now, picture Betty White with arthritis doing it.  That was me.

Every time I did a hip circle, something in my body cracked. Lowering down into a squat, my knees were threatening to give out.  I was in pain 47 seconds into the moves. My arms and legs were shaking, and I was seeing spots. ( I fixed that, I grabbed an A&W teen burger on the way home) I pretty much resembled a female version of Napoleon Dynamite way out of her league.

Carrying on from the floor work, we learned how to flow from the floor over to the wall and to basically have sex with the wall.  Ok, not really, but we did learn a routine up against the wall to Janet Jackson't "Don't Stop".  From the wall, we made our way to the pole.  Walking around the pole, doing fancy pole turns, more f*cking squats against the pole, and then eventually, a pole hold, where you slide down.  Remember in gym class where there was a bigger kid that struggles to climb up the rope? Yup, me. I was grasping that pole, legs flailing, for dear life. Nowhere near sexy, my friends.  And when we were supposed to seamlessly slide down, my sweaty hands made a screaching sound as I dropped to the ground like an uncoordinated bag of bricks.

We ran through our routine a few times, from the floor, to the wall, to the pole. The more we did it, and the more I couldn't feel my limbs, I actually got the hang of it.  The whole room is covered in mirrors, and as I continued, I watched myself and was somewhat impressed. I couldn't believe it was me. And I think I got the pole hold pretty much down. Haha, pole hold made me laugh, because I have the mind of a perverted 15 year old boy. Anywho...

All in all, it was actually super fun, and as funny as it sounds, empowering. I had to remind myself not to "sexy walk" out to my car. Next week we learn the fireman pole spin! I'm going to take some muscle relaxants and a few roofies before class. 6 more weeks to go!  How lucky am I to have a willing participant to watch and critique my routine practices as well?  What a supportive boyfriend!

I may have to rename this blog "Aches & Pains of a Pole Dancer".  Maybe I should just keep enrolling in different classes in blogging about them. Bonsai Art Pruning?  Porn Directing 101?  Gymnastics for Seniors? Let me know what you think!

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