When you want to become the best, you have to first learn from the best. That opportunity came on August 20th when I signed up for a Floor Exercise workshop with Cleo The Hurricane.
For years, my favorite chair and pole dance teachers would talk about Cleo relentlessly. She became the ideal; the prototype. Shoot, even our classes and routines were shaped and molded by this woman. So when I saw my former teacher post that she would be offering up a floor and pole workshops, I signed up. I wasn’t able to get into the pole class, but I did manage to secure a spot in the Floor Work class. I was excited! Finally, the woman, the myth, the legend, would be in the same room as me, teaching me her ways. Showing me some moves. Getting my ass in shape. I expected it to be fun, what I didn’t expect is for old fears to arise.
Okay, so a few things was going on with me:
- I haven’t worked out strenuously in months. Seriously, this is the most inactive I’ve been since I started my weight loss journey.
- I was the “chunky” girl in class, which immediately made me feel insecure. Still trying to shake that “You have to be this weight in order to workout” because crazy.
- Being in a pole studio again made me reminisce on the love I had with pole dancing. And the reminder that I had a desire to teach pole one day
- Seeing my former dance instructor and members of the gym I used to go to instantly gave me the sads. When I was a member of the dance studio, I felt a part of a family. I felt supported. Now that family has dissolved.
Still, I was excited to be able to learn from Cleo and from the first “hello”, I knew that this would be a very fun and laid back class. Immediately I stood out with my random fact (I told the class that I like to talk in a Jamaican accent when I go on vacation out of boredom. Imagine me; bored, on vacation.) and I would continue to stand out in the worst possible way. Honey, I was a clumsy MESS! During the routine, which involves a lot of rolling and kicking, my legs were all over the place. I was fumbling to catch up and my surrounding people were noticeably annoyed by my long legs invading their personal space. Cleo called me out a few times to make sure that I was okay and that I was getting the routine. I became “that” student in class.
The best. I may have been drenched in sweat and my knees were raw and my body may have been acting all over-dramatic, but I was right next to Cleo The Hurricane, dancing. And keeping up (flexibility not included) with every move. See, what people don’t know, and become amazingly impressed by, is that I can pick up dance routines relatively fast. I had a blast! And for a bonus, not only did Cleo give me a pep talk and a shoulder rub….she also smacked my butt. No other woman but her. And maybe Rosario Dawson…..