Sunday, September 14, 2008
First, true confessions: last time I took dance class was during the Carter administration.
But I was very young then. Now, not so much, but interested in seeing what it feels like to move this middle-aged body as a dancer.
So I signed up for a class at Liz Lerman Dance Exchange in Takoma Park, Md. Yesterday was the first class. And while moving my body vigorously in rhythmic sequence over and over to music felt familiar, the body itself didn't look too familiar. And it didn't respond to my brain's commands to turn out, to lift, to kick and lunge to the insistent hip-hop beat in quite the ways I'd expected.
But here's what I can say in my body's defense: while it couldn't quite reach its former agility in limber kicks, gravity defying leaps, and perfect turnout, it could still deliver in style.
Today, I'm just sore. But the best part of the exercise -- not just lamenting the loss of my youth -- was how much fun it is to d-a-n-c-e, and all that jazz. Photo credit: Liz Lerman Dance Exchange