I went to a free trial dance class last night. This style is very different from the other styles of dance I've studied in the past. There were things the instructor did as a matter of course that had me dropping my jaw time and time again.
It took me a few minutes to get into it. The class started out with a warm-up dance routine, by which I mean the instructor queued up a song, started dancing, and everyone stumbled in her wake, some of us stumbling rather more than others.
After warm-ups, we did stretches and basic isolation exercises. The torso work had me completely baffled. Upper abs? Lower abs? It's all flab to me*! But eventually, I started to get it, and it started feeling really good.
We worked on rolls and "downs" when we had finished stretching, practicing each technique by walking in place, forward and backward, left and right, and finally in a big circle, again forward and backward.
At the end, the instructor taught us the first few pieces of a routine, and we all stumbled along behind her inimitable grace. Someone asked her to show us the whole routine, partly out of curiosity, and partly due to laziness, I think. The instructor obliged, a vision of loveliness and feminine allure.
To cool down after the class, we did a little dance-stuff, and a little stretchy stuff. In the glow of a good workout, I didn't notice at first, but when I sat down in the car to go home, I realized the extent to which my muscles were sore. I figured if I stuck with it, maybe in time I could look that good.
* Of course, you know that I have remarkably little flab. But well. It doesn't help with the feeling of bewilderment.
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