Otherwise known as Feet Working Overtime...
Prologue: When we left our intrepid Single in Part 1, she had enjoyed a fabulous Friday comprised of not one but two lovely parties, followed by a salsa lesson at Salsa Heat, and a bite out with Great Dancing Argentinian (GDA), her endearing boyfriend who curls her toes and is all things good. The saga continues...
Saturday morning I woke up knowing I needed to get back on the running trail. A real run, not a two mile run for sissies (or healing ankles-- which is exactly what I had run on Tuesday). I drove to My Small Town Lakefront donned in shorts, a t-shirt, and my favorite running shoes, and took off. I ran six good, easy miles. They weren't the fastest I've ever run, but I was still concerned about my previously ailing ankle. When I finished the six miles, I felt like I could have run farther, but I didn't want to push it.
I am nothing if not sensible when it comes to taking care of my body.
Make that... most of the time.
GDA and I had plans to attend Salsa Heat's Big Christmas Social in a hotel ballroom in Orlando, and I knew my feet would need to do a bit more work. So, I played it cool with the six miles, went home, iced my ankle and calves, and got clean and lovely. The evening before I had tried on several dresses for the social, and nothing that I tried on was quite perfect. I needed to wear something that would make me sparkle on the inside. I already felt intimidated by the dancers that I was yet to witness on the ballroom floor. Maybe I couldn't dance as well as them, but by golly I was going to feel beautiful!
The night before, as my guy friends from class were assessing my ankle, one asked me if I was planning to attend the Big Social. Yeah-- I'm going.
Good-- 'cause we Intermediate students need to stick together. There are lots of really incredible dancers at the Big Social. I was happy to have other folks at my level to dance with.
Just then GDA walked up to our little group. Hey man... are you Intermediate?
No-- I'm Advanced.
Oh MAN! We can't hang with you!
That's when I piped up... Hey, he'll be Intermediate as long as he's dancing with me.
Eduardo smiled, You didn't tell me you had a new dance partner.
What can I say? He didn't ask! Plus, we're kind of keeping our relationship on the down low at Salsa Heat. It's like dating someone from the gym. (Which, for the record, I've never done done!) If it doesn't work out with GDA, we'll still have to see each other pretty often as long as we continue with the salsa scene. So there's risk involved... but when isn't there risk when beginning a new relationship?
You know?
Anyway, getting back to the dress... I didn't feel there was anything suitable in my closet (the old "I have all these clothes, and nothing to wear" syndrome), so what's a girl to do but go shopping! I braved the fancy mall in the Biggish City near My Small Town, and secured the perfect dress in the second shop I ventured into. It was black, ruffled all over, and a size small. It doesn't get any better than that. In fact, the dress was exactly what I had imagined before I laid eyes on it. (Not unlike other recent developments in my life.)
The rest of the afternoon was comprised of a visit with my folks, a session with my favorite hair stylist, and a drive to GDA's house. When I stepped out of the car, he surveyed my outfit. Wow, Jen... you look GREAT! That was just the reaction I was looking for. It was nice to have a reason to get all gussied up for a night out on the town. GDA and I went to Cafe Tu Tu Tango, a fun tapas-style restaurant for dinner, and then we drove down the street to where the social was being held.
The Big Social began with a bachata lesson from 8:30 to 9:30 (bachata is the slow sexy Dominican version of salsa), followed by live music, and performances that began at midnight. My feet were blistered by the end of the bachata lesson, but I didn't care. Dancing is just plain fun. GDA and I danced three bachata songs in a row before the music switched to salsa. Halfway through our first salsa, GDA looked at me. Jen, I wish we had a video of the first time we danced together. You've come a long way.
I have to remind myself that I've only been taking salsa lessons for three months. I'm doing pretty good for a white girl with three months' experience! The other night GDA was trying out a move with me that he had learned with the Salsa Heat training team. Jen, what is your instinct when I put my hand here. He put his hand on my waist.
Baby, I'm white. I have no instincts when it comes to salsa. We laughed. It was a joke, but it was true. I can find the one count easily enough when listening to music, but dancing salsa certainly doesn't come natural, even though I love it almost more than consuming a whole jar of Nutella in a week. (I don't keep Nutella in the house for that reason.) I suppose that's part of the allure: I love a good challenge.
The evening was spent dancing with GDA and couple other dance partners. At one point, I was taking a break, sitting at the table we had secured, watching the live band playing great salsa and the incredible dancers on the ballroom floor, and the makeup of the people in the crowded room. How did I get here?
It was an out-of-body experience. My life has changed so much in the past six months. I don't know if salsa is something I'm going to do for the rest of my life, but for now, it gets me moving, meeting new people, and celebrating life.
We left the party at one in the morning, after the dance team performances. At the end of the night, I was exhausted, my feet were blistered, and my heart was full. Just the way it should be. And I was really glad I had stuck with my decision to run six miles. As it was, my feet put in a full-time shift and then some...
No comments:
Post a Comment