It's Good to Be Missed...

Yesterday was a long day indeed.  Work, followed by boot camp (and an intense, effective workout!)... and salsa.  After boot camp, I showered, dried my hair, applied make up... and really, really didn't want to go.  Anywhere.  I was tired, beaten down by the workout and the week in general.  The insane combination of boot camp, salsa, and half-marathon training is just too much for me in addition to my normal work and social life.  That said, next week is the last week of boot camp.  I think I can... I think I can...

I had to make myself go to salsa class last night night, for a variety of reasons:

1. Linette wasn't going.  As much as I enjoy class, it's even more fun knowing that a friend will be there with me, laughing, making mistakes, and more importantly, making jokes.  Class is so much more delightful when Linette goes with me.  She reminds me not to take it so seriously, and it's nice to see a friendly face-- one that I know well-- when I've got my dancing shoes on, and arms outstretched for a dile que no.  Linette has injured her foot-- there's no telling when she'll be dancing again, but I hope it won't be too far off.
2. I was dog-tired.  As I stated, getting up at 5 a.m. for work, plus boot camp, in addition to running... The tremendous amount of activity takes its toll on a body.  Especially one as precious as mine. 
3. I was curious about Cute Strong Guy.  Even though I maintain that we would not make a good couple, I have to admit I'm just the littlest bit intrigued by him. When he walked me to my car after the social, he told me that he would give me his number when I saw him next at class so that we could practice together.  Then I didn't go to class, in order to rest before my trip to Boston.  I am glad I gave myself that breathing space, but feel a bit like I stood him up.  I feel confused about that feeling... but there you have it...
4. I hadn't been to class in two weeks.  I had been to the social at Salsa Heat about a week and a half before, but hadn't attended a real class in two weeks.  Like the gym (or Mass) once you stop going, it is so hard to get back in the routine.  
5. I hadn't practiced in two weeks.  Even more so than not attending class... the fact that I hadn't listened to a single piece of salsa music, let alone move my body to the familiar 1 2 3, 5 6 7 beat was incredibly daunting.  I was nervous about remembering the steps and being a supreme dual left-footed fool.  

After I readied myself, I gobbled up the last bit of roasted winter squash over salad that was left from Monday night's dinner, and propelled myself out the door before I could convince the part of me that was exhausted to just stay home and enjoy a quiet evening.

The worst part of me wanted to stay home.  I didn't listen to the worst part of me.  I did the opposite, and soldiered on...

As I drove to the Slightly Bigger Town next to My Small Town, I listened to the brilliant satellite radio in my car and attempted to get pumped up.  I arrived at class an hour early, just in case they needed an extra female in the Beginner classes.

They did not.

Instead, I chilled for a bit, watching the Beginners, getting back into the flow of the music.  Eduardo, a student who tested up just after I tested up into Intermediate, arrived.  We talked for a bit, and I called him out on something he had revealed to Linette at the social:  You and Jen give off a married with children vibe.

WHAT?  

So last night, I inquired:  How exactly does one give off a married with children vibe?  We don't wear rings and have never attended class with a partner.

He looked a bit stricken.  I don't know, Jen, she's just so nice!  I mean... you're both so nice!  I never thought you wouldn't be married with kids.  Then I got it... Eduardo's statement was meant as a compliment, and once I understood, I thought it was a really nice thing of him to say.  We practiced dancing when they played music for the Beginner classes, and it felt amazing to exercise my salsa memory.

Just as I knew it would.

My pal Remon arrived a few minutes later, and we worked on a move that they had learned last Wednesday.  Both Eduardo and Remon chastised me for missing last week, although I explained that I had needed to give my overworked body a respite before my big trip to Boston.  Class wasn't easy, but as I have said, and continue to recite as my mantra, I won't get better if I don't practice. 

I can't wait to go to class tomorrow night.  In the meantime, I am enjoying a splendid night, in...

Chuck made me dinner tonight, and as we were checking in with each other's life over dinner, I related the story about being minorly censured by the guys for having missed class last week, Chuck looked at me and related:  Jen, it's good to be missed.  So true.  I was glad to have been missed.  And equally glad to given myself some time to breathe.

Addendum:  As the author was preparing to write this evening, Brett Dennen's Ain't Gonna Lose You started playing on Bright House's Adult Alternative station.  She had never heard this tender, thoughtful song before.  It stopped her cold... and made her heart ache.  The author realizes this makes her a sappy, romantic fool.  She can live with this assessment-- it is who she is.