Yesterday I went to my first ballet class. Well ... I say first ballet class, and it is as long as you don't count about 4 classes 45 years ago. I had always wanted to be a ballet dancer. There is something about the way they move, the shapes they create, that mesmerizes me. I have spent hours drawing and painting their feet in pointe shoes ...
And now, at the age of 50, here I am, in little pink leather ballet pumps standing at a barre attempting to tease my feet into various positions with toes pointy and chin aloft!
I am so thrilled to be doing it! The teacher makes the class fun, but its hard. She tells us what moves to make in French ... none of which I can remember right now! But I enjoyed it so much.
I don't think I am a natural ballerina, but I love the feeling of holding in my tummy, lifting up my core and holding my legs just so. I don't really care what I look like on the outside. On the inside I am Darcey Bussell, Margot Fonteyn and Tamara Rojo leaping for joy!!
As for the fitness side of it I think I am going to end up with thighs of steel because they certainly hurt like Hell after the class yesterday!!
