ballet

Exercise for the person who hates exercise

November 21, 2013 Abby8 Comments

If I’m being honest with you, the most physical activity I get during a week is when I walk the dog.

Rivanna Trail hike — With Pyrrha by the Rivanna River.

Clearly, this is not sufficient, and I need to do more. I’d say that we eat quite healthy (meat only once a week, lots of vegetables and fruits, no desserts, no soft drinks) — although I’m sure we could eat less cheese, which is not really something I’m really willing to sacrifice, owing to the immeasurable joy that it brings to my life. That aside: I need to get moving.

I have a standing desk at work, which is already something in my favor, according to every fifth article you see these days. But aside from taking P-dog for strolls, that’s about it.

I’m also the athletic black sheep of my family. My dad plays hockey or some other strenuous sport almost daily. My mother has a six-pack and goes to these super-intense workout classes every other day. Kelsey (and her husband) are impeccable physical specimens; Kelsey is a champion hockey player and Alex is a titled martial arts master and surfer. Grace, as I mention below, is a certified yoga instructor and all-around badass. And Sam is also a champion hockey player and possessor of generally remarkable abs.

And then there’s me. The one who doesn’t even LIKE exercising, much less is trying to fit it into her life. So, personal assessment time.

hikers — Hiking with Christa in some beautiful park, July 2009.

Favorite forms of exercise that I’ve tried:

Walking. I love walking; I really do. People laugh when I say that, but it’s such a pleasant, mind-clearing activity. I’m looking forward to walking to work soon and continuing to walk around the neighborhood and to the Downtown Mall. We’re lucky to live in a very walkable place. And having a dog as a walking companion is the best possible thing.
Hiking. The fittest I’ve been in my life is when I spent a summer living in Denver and went hiking multiple times a week. I actually had muscles! I hardly ever go hiking in Charlottesville (like, once a year), which is a real shame.
Ballet. I took two ballet classes this year and loved them, even though I’m a wretched dancer.
Cycling. I love biking around town, but I need to get a bike first. Goal for next year!

Things I’ve tried that don’t work for me:

Yoga. I really like the IDEA of doing yoga. It appeals to me so much: breathing and twisting your body around in a quiet room with a bunch of sexy women. But I am TERRIBLE at yoga. So terrible. Even though my little sister is a certified yoga instructor, I have a wildly different body type. Where she is muscular and compact, I am long and weak. My legs are disproportionately long, my arms are spindly, and I am the least flexible person I know. I’m always the person in the room who needs “special help” from the teacher. So I don’t practice yoga. Because it makes me feel bad about myself.
Swimming. Ever since my parents forced me to join the neighborhood swim team when I was young, I’ve despised the pool. My coaches told me that I had lovely strokes, but that I was just way too slow. Just the slowest. I hate smelling like a pool and I hate the notion of swimming laps.
Zumba. No. Just no. This is my personal hell.
Running. My father was a champion professional runner, and he likes to tell me that I was “built to run,” but I just cannot make myself do it. Again, I like the idea of being great at running, but I lack so much motivation. I think part of me is also reactionary to the prolific running culture in Charlottesville. Not participating makes me feel like a curmudgeonly rebel. (“You ran 10 miles this morning? Well, I sat on the couch and looked at my dog.”) Also, everyone I know who runs all the time is constantly in and out of physical therapy, which is not something I’m particularly interested in trying. I think I could make myself run in moderation in temperate weather.

I’m generally quite lazy, and so partner accountability and public shaming do wonders for me. Also being a part of a class. Having paid for a class (as with ballet) where I’m expected to show up each week and where my friends are counting on me (to at least give them rides) is helpful.

Based on this information, what do you think would help me? What is your weekly fitness regimen, and why does it work for you?

Tuesday thoughts

April 2, 2013 Abby1 Comment

Crocus are coming up — Crocus in our yard. Also, what is the plural of “crocus”? Crocuses? Croci?

I have been thinking about:

Divinity and distance

Lately, I feel like God is very far away from me. Or that I am far away from God. I can’t quite tell which it is. I don’t like feeling this way, but I am not sure how to find a way out of it. Instead, I keep telling myself, “God does not want to let go of you.” This is actually something that Jonathan once told me.

Nonfiction

Since finishing Infinite Jest, I’ve felt a little “broken,” reading-wise, and suddenly, I only have an appetite for nonfiction. I am reading photo-filled, potentially frivolous books about fashion, personal style, and a history of the (demise of the) luxury goods industry; another dog book; and a how-to guide on copperplate calligraphy (a birthday gift from my excellent in-laws). I have never felt this way before — utterly uninterested in fiction. It makes me nervous. But I am planning on re-reading Anna Karenina* soon, so I am hoping that will reinvigorate me.

*Side note: Grace, Guion, Sam, and I watched Joe Wright’s Anna Karenina on Saturday night. Tom Stoppard’s hand in the screenplay and in the overall creative direction (filmed almost entirely within a theater or on a stage) was appreciated, but I finished the film feeling that a.) my dislike of Keira Knightley will never die, and b.) this is not a novel that should ever, ever be made into a movie. I know it’s been done before (like five or six times, all terribly), but really. Leave Anna alone. Read the novel.

I continue to be terrible at ballet. I am now taking a second ballet class, the follow-up intermediate level, and I am taking it with Celeste. Yes, the I-took-ballet-for-18-years Celeste. She is beautiful to watch in class, and I had hopes that she would distract everyone else on how plainly terrible I am. This class is about 10 times harder than the prior one, and I do not seem to have improved at all. When we all filed out after our first session, our instructor was congratulating everyone, telling them how impressed she was, etc. And then she looked at me, and said, with a sweet and sympathetic smile, “Don’t give up! You’re so close. I just hope you don’t quit the class.”

And here I was naïvely thinking that no one noticed how terrible I am.

No matter. It’s fun, and I like it. It’s been a nice exercise in subtle humiliation, to stick with something that I have so little natural aptitude for.

Last ballet class

February 27, 2013 Abby3 Comments

My adult beginners’ ballet class ended last night. First new year’s resolution: accomplished!

It was a completely fun, ridiculous endeavor, and I’m so glad I did it, particularly to have the time with Cate and Stephanie each week.

I felt like taking this class was a small victory for me: to have kept doing something that I was naturally terrible at.

I was talking about this with Jonathan last week. We both are quick to give up on things that we don’t have a natural ability for. This, obviously, is a personal failing, but it’s the way I am; I want to be instantly great at something (indicating that I am both prideful and lazy).

Ballet, as I have learned, is NOT something that I have a natural ability for. I mean, look at these robot arms:

But I stuck with it, even though I felt mostly terrible about myself, and I think I improved on the most minute scale. And I’ve signed up for the second-level class, which will start at the end of March.

So, here’s to sticking with things you’re not good at!

(With thanks to Stephanie, and classmate Sarah, for the photos.)

Third ballet class

February 6, 2013 Abby5 Comments

Katya Gridneva, "Olga Dressing." — Katya Gridneva, “Olga Dressing.”

My adult beginner’s ballet class continues to go well, even though I still look ridiculous and cannot figure out how to get my brain to follow our instructor and then direct my limbs to mimic her movements. I sometimes feel like my brain is short-circuiting in class. Repeating the same routines each week has helped build my memory, however.

Forcing myself to check the mirror is something I have been thinking about as well. Watching oneself in the mirror during ballet is often disheartening. My arches, for example, are far less awesome than I thought they were. My arabesque arms occasionally veer dangerously into resembling a Nazi salute. And then you catch a glimpse of the girl in the back who’s been en pointe before, kicking her leg up above her hips, and you think, “What am I doing here? I look like a cow.”

But as Stephanie said last night, during our post-ballet drinks, “I am done with hating on my body. Done!” It’s high time we, as adult women, stopped disparaging our bodies and started treating them with gentleness and respect.

These are the bodies we have, and they have been good to us. And even if mine is currently struggling to be graceful, I am enjoying this learning curve.

First ballet class

January 23, 2013 Abby6 Comments

Ballet photo / Click for source — Click for source.

One of my 2013 goals is to take a ballet class. My friend Cate is apparently a sharp-eyed blog reader, and she sent me an e-mail a few weeks ago that said there was an adult ballet class at the city parks & rec center in January and that we should take it. “This is one of your 2013 goals, right?” she wrote.

Oh, right. It is.

Frankly, I was kind of dreading fulfilling this goal. Ballet is HARD, y’all. I took ballet for a handful of years, like many little girls, and I think I probably stopped when I was about 11 or 12. I don’t remember why I wanted to stop, but I think it probably had to do with a combination of factors, mainly, that a.) I was not flexible at all, and b.) my bossy personality often conflicted with the bossy personalities of my dance instructors. (Ballet teachers everywhere being famous for being the real-life, studio versions of Miranda Priestly.)

Over the past year, however, my interest in ballet has been reignited. Reignited! I sit around and watch snippets of ballet performances on the sly. I bought the New York City Ballet workout DVD. I am trying not to start a hoarder’s collection of leotards. I think I’d probably blame it mostly on reading Apollo’s Angels, which is just incredible. Also, three of my closest friends (Emily, Catherine, and Rose) were all very serious ballerinas, and I think I have always been a bit jealous of their grace, experience, and fluidity. So. I took up Cate’s challenge and signed up for the class, and then convinced Stephanie to take it with us, too.

Our first class was last night, in the brand-new dance studio in the sparkling, newly renovated rec center. The group is small (10 women, probably all within their early 20s and 30s) and our instructor, Amanda, is young, calm, and clear. We are all plainly nervous, but I think everyone seemed heartened by the fact that none of us looked like we knew what we were doing.

We jumped right into small ballet routines, with hardly any instruction or explanation at all. And it was fun! And confusing! I was relieved. I was worried that the class was going to be a jazzy pilates routine disguised as ballet, but no, this is ballet. We use all the French terms. We have a barre (which Stephanie and I get pushed to the front of, being the class giants). We listen to simpering piano music for an hour. It is the real deal—I mean, as real as you can get from an adult beginner’s class at the parks & rec center. But I am delighted and heartened.

I’d forgotten how physically AND mentally engaging ballet is. It’s not just the utilization of all of these weird muscles you never use; it’s also this intense engagement of the mind, trying to connect the mind with these strange muscles, and then trying to make yourself look like a swan in the process. I am thinking about all sorts of things now: the shape of my spine, the direction of my hips, the turnout of my feet, the flow of my arms, the arrangement of my fingers, sans thumbs…

I’m committed to not looking like a total gangly fool at the end of these six weeks. It will certainly be a challenge, but one that I’m looking forward to. Thanks, Cate, for making me follow up with my goals! More to come.

Self survey

January 9, 2013 Abby2 Comments

If not in Charlottesville, I would live in… Denver.

My dream holiday would be to… Southern France.

My current obsessions are… ballet, lingerie, writing letters, finding even more playmates for Pyrrha, perfume, clean countertops, and Guion’s cooking.

I channel my childhood self when I… think that I could still be a ballerina.

The fictional character I most relate to is… Isabel Archer from The Portrait of a Lady, because she could never get anything right.

If I had to be outdoors all day, I would… be a dog trainer or a shepherd with a pack of sheepdogs.

I’m terrified of… tooth decay.

My celebrity crush is… Marion Cotillard or Daniel Day-Lewis, depending on the weather.

My beauty product of choice is… Benetint.

My favorite article of clothing is… the drape-y maxi dress my mom got me for an early birthday present.

My friends and I like to… trade links to articles with varying degrees of cultural sarcasm.

If I could go back in time for one decade it would be… 1920s urban America.

As a teenager, I was totally into… horses. And team policy debate. I’m not gonna lie.

I tend to splurge on… Pyrrha!

Beginnings, progressions

January 7, 2013 Abby2 Comments

We had such a peaceful, lovely visit with Catherine, Russ, and Ava on Saturday. I have really missed C. in particular (although Russ and Ava are equally great company). It is a surreal thing to be growing up, to forget that you are growing up until you see old friends and realize that your lives are changing rapidly, that you might even be classified as adults now.

I mean, look at us. We have jobs. We have husbands. We have dogs.

(How nice it is to keep the company of a fellow dog-crazed young woman.)

Our dogs were less thrilled to meet each other, unfortunately, but they managed to coexist after some time. Pyrrha just wanted to play, and Ava just wanted to protect her humans and her new-found toys.

I wish we all could just live down the street from each other. But they’ll be staying in the general region, so that is a relief.

In other news, I have been inspired by Emily and her ambitious 2013 goals. I am trying to be proactive about mine. Accordingly, I am taking a ballet class with Cate and Stephanie. It is going to be hilariously awful. I will probably want to drop out, but the company of these two excellent, funny women will surely keep me motivated. I don’t think I even remember how hard ballet is. I’m about to get a sharp refresher.

A few thoughts

November 5, 2012 Abby2 Comments

Recent thoughts, resolutions, internal injunctions:

It is important to look words up in the dictionary. I should do this more often, instead of assuming I know what “fulsome” means. To this end, I recently bought the new fifth edition of the American Heritage Dictionary for our use at home. This goliath will also support me in my attempt to read Infinite Jest in a few months. (Also, we are a poet and an editor! We should own a real dictionary, even if it is more convenient to use the house iPhone to look things up.)
Corollary: The idea of “looking something up” did not exist until writing existed -> the beginning of a cataloging of information -> converting language into data. (Thoughts from reading the excellent The Information: A History, a Theory, a Flood.)
Ballet. I am thinking a lot about ballet. More on this later, perhaps. (I am thinking about Apollo’s Angels, about how I hate most forms of exercise, about how flexibility is something I only possess in my dreams.)
Best movie I have seen in quite a while: Rust and Bone, dir. Jacques Audiard. Guion and I saw this at the Virginia Film Festival and we were equally floored by it. Highly recommended. (Because, really, Marion Cotillard can do no wrong.)
Men look best in fall clothes.
I need to say “no” more often and not feel guilty about it.
The dog has become very pushy lately. She’s one of the ones I need to say “no” to more often. (But look at that face!)

Man the food-gatherer reappears incongruously as information-gatherer. In this role, electronic man is no less a nomad than his paleolithic ancestors. — Marshall McLuhan

Things I would spend an embarrassingly large amount of money on if I were rich

March 21, 2012 Abby4 Comments

Rich lady, Afghan — Me, in an alternate universe, with my Afghan. Click for source.

Things I would spend an embarrassingly large amount of money on if I were rich:

Fresh-cut flowers! In every room!
My (hypothetical pack of) dogs.
Expensive sight hound puppies, like Afghans and borzois, from top-notch breeders.
Books. I would buy a million books. And put them in my house.
Makeup. Secret: I actually really like makeup, even though I don’t wear much of it. I think I just like to play with it.
Stationery. I would send everyone, even people I didn’t like that much, $6 letterpress birthday cards.
Bunnies. I would get a lot of bunnies.
Art. I would have a painting in every room, too.
Dresses. I would buy all the dresses.
Adorable little notebooks that I would probably never use but keep in my purse, “just in case.”
Tickets to the ballet.
Japanese pens. They make the best pens.
Antique furniture.

Inordinate wealth is not in the cards for us, so Guion doesn’t really have to worry about this list. But daydreams are a great zero-cal snack.

People I could not have been

January 31, 2012 Abby2 Comments

I like to think that I could have been a great many things, even though this is not true. Here are the careers and vocations that I think I could have had, even though we all know that it’s fairly impossible.

People I Wanted to Be that I Now Admit I Will Never Be:

A ballerina. I adore the ballet. I was a bossy little ballerina for a few years until I hit adolescence and lost interest in the art and discipline. It may have been just as well. I have long, skinny limbs, yes, but I cannot touch my toes. I cannot even do downward-facing dog. I am an embarrassment in yoga class; I would be an abomination in ballet.
A Shakespearean actor. I hate being on stage. I am not British (yes, I believe that all the best Shakespearean actors are and should be British).
A great cook. Given up on that dream, especially since I found out that I have a husband who can out-chef me. I also am not profoundly interested in food.
A travel writer. I really like having a home. I hate living out of a suitcase.
A painter. This dream died when Grace started taking art lessons with me.

Any dream careers of yours get killed by reality?