So when we last left our intrepid Single in Part 1, she had just finished her eight-mile training run in preparation for her first-ever half-marathon. The saga of The Agony and the Ecstasy continues...
After I returned home, I iced down my calves another twenty minutes while laying out by the pool.
Oh... the life.
I had plans to attend the Saturday night social at Salsa Heat in the Slightly Bigger Town next to My Small Town with Linette and Dr. Dance. I didn't want to further inhibit my minuscule dancing ability with muscles that felt as tight as the strings on a violin's bow. Sooooo... A cold shower was followed by a heavenly hot bath, and I stretched again. My muscles ever-so-slowly forgave me for their morning punishment.
I spent the afternoon doing laundry, watching mindless television, getting rest that was sorely needed-- just what my body craved. On Friday night I felt like a bus had run over me. Work was particularly intense this week, and keeping up with my training schedule on top of counselor duties definitely took its toll. I was relieved to have nine whole days ahead of me that didn't include my alarm clock.
Alarm kitty, yes. Alarm clock, no. I can't have it all.
Life is all about compromise, isn't it?
Last night I went to the social with Dr. Dance. Linette had planned to attend but ended up having a schedule conflict. Not long after we got there, one of the usual suspects asked me to dance. As we walked to the dance floor, he inquired, Is that your husband?
No.
What is it with everybody at salsa trying to marry me off already?
I spent the night being twirled about the dance floor. I have a long way to go before I can look like the salseras who at least appear to have been doing this their whole lives, and for whom dancing is as natural as breathing, but at least I'm out there. When a partner extends his hand and we take our place on the floor, I am at once in ultimate terror and agony, and the most exhilarating feeling of joy. (Some might say ecstasy but there are limits to my hyperbole!) There are a multitude of rules to keep in mind: Elbows down, small steps, tight turns, styling, and oh yeah... smile! I still make a tremendous amount of mistakes, but I laugh a lot, and I am forced to forget about everything else in my life except for my dance partner and the dance space around us. I love that.
Early on in the evening the deejay played a cha cha. I spotted my friend Great Dancing Argentinian (GDA), whom I met at the very first social, and maneuvered my way around the dancers as I crossed the room to say hello.
Jen, do you cha cha?
I took one lesson last month.
I don't know how, let's get out there and try!
Okay!
GDA led me through three dances-- the cha cha, a sexy bachata, and a salsa. He is a confident dancer and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy being in his capable arms.
We texted today, and are meeting for drinks tomorrow night.
I'll keep you posted... or maybe I won't.
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