I'm not 18 anymore. Shocker, I know. You'd think that by now, 13 years later, I would have come to grips with that fact.
I've been taking this great exercise class at my local Y called "Ballet Sculpt". It's basically a beginning ballet class. All those plie's and tondues are really good for your legs. I used to take dance classes when I was little, and was on the Pom Pom Squad in Jr. High and Color Guard in high school. I took a couple of dance classes in college, including ballet my freshman year, and I still own (and am now using) the shoes. So this exercise class was right up my alley. I think my body remembered some of the moves and postures quicker than it remembered how to ride a bicicylcle a couple of years back. Second nature. No problem. The class has a wide variety of people, and I've been one of the quicker students every week. Of the various deadly sins, I think pride and vanity are two of my biggest weaknesses.
So, Thursday night our class was progressing as usual, and the teacher had us trying a move called a tour jete. It's a jump I've done hundreds of times before. Here's a nifty example. It's that part where the guy jumps in the air and switches his feet. Mine aren't that impressive. There is definitely a jump, turn and foot switch, though.
So I was feeling all cool and able to do a series of them across the floor while most of the others in the class were taking things one step at a time and basically just turning in place and kicking one foot out and then the other, standing still. Pride and Vanity, I tell you.
Thursday after class one of my legs was a little more sore than the other. Friday I worked, so I spent most of the day sitting on my butt in front of a computer. By Friday night, I could barely walk without wincing. I was grumpy and sore, and had no desire to climb stairs or even so much as bend my left knee. I guess I landed wrong and did some thing bad to my knee.
I've never done that before. I had one ankle that used to bother me occasionally in high school, usually when playing tennis, probably for the same reason--sudden direction changes aren't great on joints. I am not good at sitting still, and this is driving me nuts. I can't just walk normally up and down the stairs. Squatting to talk to (or relocate) the kids hurts. Kneeling to bathe Trystan before bed was murder. I've been taking ibuprofin since last night, and after a series of pops this morning, I think it's improving. And it still hurts.
My ballet shoes are falling apart too. I guess after 13 years, they are entitled to have a few issues.