When I was eight or nine years old, I learned a lesson. It came via ballet class, like so many of my early life lessons.
I started taking ballet when I was four, added jazz at five and tap at six. From the start, there were milestones we were taught to look forward to: first tutu, first recital, first performance in The Nutcracker, going en pointe, etc. Continue reading →
What has two thumbs and took her first gym class in years?
OK so it’s me, not Liz Lemon.
After a false start in which I signed up for something called Cardio Video Dance only to realize NOPE), I talked myself into a Vinyasa yoga class. And by “yoga” please know that I don’t mean serious yoga like that taught at Greenhouse. I mean the kind that comes free at my somewhat down-at-heels gym. Continue reading →
I have them in that I belong to a gym. I just skip them.
Why? I think it started as a rebellion against the years – fourteen years – rigorous, time-consuming dance study I did.
By high school, I averaged six classes per week, spread over the course of three days. Mostly ballet including pointe but also jazz, tap and helping with younger kids’ classes. In the month leading up to a performance, the time commitment would typically double.