Dancing Is My Marathon
Posted by Moose on February 26th, 2010. Filed under: Dance.I danced from the age of 13 all the way through college. I picked it up again at 24 and danced until I was 28. I performed. You could even say professionally, if you want to classify “they occasionally gave me money” as professional.
Minus objective judgment and the ability to step outside my body to watch myself, I honestly can’t tell you how good I was. My lines were beautiful. My footwork and timing were complete crap. I once did nine pirouettes (if dancing isn’t your thing, that’s “rotated nine times on one leg before having to stop for a snack”), I never managed a decent split leap. I was graceful, but I’d occasionally get turned around in rehearsal and suddenly find myself going left when everyone else was going right. I would leave the dance floor and smack into the doorway.
Watching a company like Alvin Ailey or Alonzo King’s Lines, I think, “Never. Not in a million years. Not if God rode down from heaven on a Tyrannosaurus Rex and commanded me to clamber up on stage.” Ballet companies tend to be removed from this earthly plane, a la No Amount of Stubborn Striving Could Have Gotten Me That Far. But there are certain modern companies – where the dancers are muscular and quick rather than willowy and capable of wingless flight – that I will watch and think, “…maybe. Maybe I could have done that.” Being on stage with a company like that might have been doable, had I thrown all my passion and stubbornness on the ground and said, “I’m going to do this, damn it. I will take classes five times a week, I will bandage my toes and ice my knees, I will go as far as I can.”
But I simply didn’t believe I could do it. I didn’t believe I was good enough to bother throwing myself in and giving it a shot. The point isn’t whether or not I would have made it as a dancer, the point is that I simply didn’t try. I find that deeply sad. That I could be young, at the cusp of my potential, and cut myself off from an avenue I would have loved simply because I didn’t think it was possible for me.
There were always reasons: I need to get full-time job, classes and workshops are expensive, I’m not built like a ballet dancer, I’m too old to really start, dancing couldn’t be a career for someone like me. I see them now for what they are – excuses – but at that time they felt real and immediate and insurmountable. It was fear, though I didn’t recognize it in the moment. But I don’t think it was fear of failure – I generally feel pretty calm about the possibility of failure. I think it was fear of success. Or maybe I cut off the train of thought before it got that far, because dancing as more than a hobby was simply Not For Me.
Tonight I went with Leah to see Robert Moses’ Kin. Sitting in the theater watching them slide through movement so fast and ridiculously difficult that the eye-brain connection can’t process it all, I found it tragic that my younger self didn’t have confidence to attack what I wanted. Calling it tragic seems a little overblown, but I can’t think of a better word to describe thinking you’re not good enough to do something you love.
But I also know that I’ve always done the best I could – that we all do the best we can in any given moment and sometimes the best you can do is not quite what you would want it to be, but that doesn’t make it any less of an effort. The best I could do now is different than the best I could do as a teenager or a young woman, but that’s what growing up is about, really.
I don’t think I even realized until tonight that being a dancer – a proper belongs-to-and-performs-with-a-company dancer – was a deeply seated ambition of mine. I think I buried it so deep I never even noticed it was there. Like I folded it up and tucked it into my spleen and it’s been fighting its way out ever since.
I would like to be fearless. I would like to take whatever goals I have and shake them until they’re empty, used-up husks. Not to say that it’s too late. I could take classes, I could get in shape, I could start training. I have the time and the resources and aside from a few odd twinges in my knee, I could have a good few years. I’d like to conquer any fear still huddled around me and dancing. I love reading about bloggers who decide to roll off the couch and train for a marathon – and then they do it and you cheer for them from the comfort of your own couch. I have no desire to run 26 miles unless a hungry cheetah is chasing me and even then I’d probably collapse at mile 7, because I’d rather be dinner than keep running.
But I’d love to dance again.
February 26th, 2010 at 2:37 am
Oooo, that would be wonderful. Will you? Do you think?
I hope so…
February 26th, 2010 at 4:49 am
I hope you do.
February 26th, 2010 at 5:54 am
I love that picture.
February 26th, 2010 at 6:24 am
Do it!
February 26th, 2010 at 7:20 am
I can soooooo relate and have blogged about this very thing. My degree is in Journalism and all my dreams are writing-related. But while I was an undergrad, I stumbled into Web development and IT training. When I graduated, I took the safe route and ever since have worked in IT. I didn’t believe in my potential as a writer. Now 5+ years later, I realize I want to follow my passion so I’m working toward that goal. Sometimes it just takes me awhile to get the confidence to head in the right (resisting “write” pun) direction.
Good luck with your dancing!!
February 26th, 2010 at 7:29 am
Do it! Do it. Do it. Do it. We’re all here to cheer you on! A mini-cheer squad that lives comfortably inside your computer screen.
February 26th, 2010 at 7:38 am
Do it! Get your butt back in class!
I have so many of the same regrets about not pursuing ballet professionally. In my late 20s I went back to class and got into some semblance of shape again and even auditioned for some companies and programs and stuff. Although it didn’t lead anywhere, it was satisfying to know I had tried. And then I was able to enjoy dance for what it was, instead of what it might lead to, and there’s a lot of value in that.
February 26th, 2010 at 7:58 am
Then dance. Go take class and just simply enjoy the movement your body will thank you for it. I’m at a point this year where I realize that 1 hour a week in a jazz/lryical class is not enough for me to just keep up where I’m the 36 year old in a class made up of mostly 16-22 year olds. I’ve had 4 good falls in class this year, the last one leaving me with such a nasty bruise on my knee that it has been a month and the spot is still tender. I really starting doubting myself saying maybe I should just quit but then I had a realization that I made the choice to not take ballet for the last 2 years and I realized that is what I’m missing. So I’ve went back to basics and am doing ballet barre at home 3-4 times a week and I feel so much stronger and am enjoying the movement again. I’m still gonna be the old lady in the backrow at our recital in May but I’ll be there. And next fall it’s back to ballet class for this old lady.
February 26th, 2010 at 9:05 am
I could have written this. I danced, too. (Never 9 pirhouettes, my god!) But I loved it and abandoned it in college because that’s what you do in college, abandon things that would take all the effort and free time you have set aside for boys and drinking and naps. I was lazy, there it is.
My lines weren’t great but my specialty was a split leap. It was the only thing I am confident saying I was any good at.
And, wow, look at that point you’ve got!
(Also the best advice I’ve ever been given was “Just Dance” right before a solo I had in high school. Not the best advice about dance but the best life advice. Go for it, friend. Just dance.)
February 26th, 2010 at 9:33 am
DO IT. Or you’ll have far more than a cheetah chasing you to worry about (i.e. rather, me).
February 26th, 2010 at 10:20 am
Do it. DO IT.
(I lived with 4 dance majors when I was in college. This probably isn’t particularly interesting – lots of colleges have dance programs, and students in them – but I was an engineering major who wasn’t accepted to live in the dorm with all the other engineers. I lived with the cast of Fame, and it was fantastic.)
I’m rooting for you! Dance!
February 26th, 2010 at 12:03 pm
I hearby solemnly swear to bring you cupcakes and flowers at your first performance. See, now you have to do it.
February 26th, 2010 at 1:47 pm
This is purely selfish, but I’d love for you to dance again just so I can watch you. If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for MEEEE!
February 26th, 2010 at 6:10 pm
DO IT.
(Same sentiment as everyone above and I mean it just as much as they do.)
February 26th, 2010 at 8:04 pm
Just stumbled upon your blog, and I found this to be a really touching piece. You talk about going to see a dance performance, and finding something tragic while watching: namely in yourself, and that you had squashed an ambition, that you weren’t up there on stage. I’ve had that feeling many times. I can’t go to the ballet or even a music performance without this visceral, hand-clenching jealousy welling up inside of me. I love love love watching dance and listening to music, and it kills me that I’m not on stage too.
If you decide to pursue this dream, I wish you so much luck.
February 26th, 2010 at 8:45 pm
I believe in your twinkle toes. I would love to watch you dance one day, and toss a heaping bouquet of flowers at you when you’re finished.
And I understand the fear of success being even more paralyzing than a fear of failure sometimes. But I also think doing something you love, that clearly brings you so much joy, is really the only thing worth doing.
February 27th, 2010 at 5:16 pm
GO FOR IT!!!!!
I wanted to do ballet, but was told I was too big (5′6″-ish, 125 lbs, amble bosom). So I did other dances – tap and jazz (from 3rd grade until I graduated – I think I was good – people always said they enjoyed watching me). I always wanted to go do Broadway – be on stage somehow, but I didn’t follow it. I didn’t even do anything while in college because I thought I was being silly. Now, thinking about doing ANY kind of dance kind of wigs me out….I have let myself get out of shape (and after children, my sense of balance is so different) that I really don’t think I could do it. How SAD is that.?
Follow through with your wants. Do it while you’re young enough to do something about it. Even if it’s just for YOU. Be like Nike. Just Do It.
February 27th, 2010 at 5:17 pm
I posted my comment and then went back to read everyone else’s (I do that so I don’t get biased in my responses)…funny how we all have the same sentiment…DO IT.
February 28th, 2010 at 3:25 pm
That was an excellent post. I’m 53 and I’m a singer…or at least I should be or should have been or something like that. I hope you do this. It really is important to do it because if you don’t, you’ll wonder, regret and never know. Take it from someone who knows. The picture was beautiful!
March 4th, 2010 at 2:55 pm
Do it! I had no idea you were a dancer! That photo is beautiful!
And I imagine it will be JUST like Center Stage!
March 4th, 2010 at 6:41 pm
Hi. I’m 49, and just last year I decided I was going to do a half marathon (actually my 53 yr old sister who does them all the time coerced me into it). Anyway, I did 4 last year and have already done one this year. I went from doing absolutely nothing for, oh maybe 20 years, to weight training, and distance training regularly. I’ll never come in first place, but who cares? I’m doing it and that’s what counts. Plus, guess what? I have gotten better every single time. I hope you start dancing again. If you love it, do it. There’s no reason not to.