Can I just tell you how much I'm loving belly dancing and our ballroom dancing lessons?
I mean, I still need to work on improving my cardio endurance and both belly dancing and ballroom dancing are a bit too slow paced for that, but man! They are so much fun!
I like that belly dancing is a lower impact exercise, but that I still get nice and sweaty. It seems to be more about increasing flexibility and muscle tone and control than hopping up and down like a crazed toddler in the midst of a sugar rush. My lower back isn't bothering me much at all plus I feel like the muscles in my waist, hips, and legs are getting nice and toned and increasing in flexibility. And the instructor is funny and relate-able. Bonus, bonus, bonus! And it's kind of like wearing fancy underwear. It's like walking around with a secret that makes you feel sexier. Carmen Electra's strip tease cardio didn't so much do that for me. Plus, I giggled through the whole thing. We are learning a routine in belly dance that makes the kids giggle when I practice at home. As T says, "Mom, are you supposed to be all jiggly?" The instructor says yes. So there, five year old! Also? Touche.
Now for ballroom...We are still working on the waltz, but now the beginner and advanced classes have been combined into one class. It's worked out better than I thought, the advanced students are really understanding about those of us who are beginners (me and R) and the instructor is now working with each couple individually which I think helps us (me and R) learn faster because we are going at our own pace. As a huge bonus last week, R and I had a breakthrough in communication.
I know, right? You are thinking that R and I already have flawless communication. ::guffaw:: But as we are trying to nail the part of the waltz where we actually walk across the floor instead of doing the box step, R is tripping up because he's been trained in the way of the military march which is nothing like dancing and I'm tripping up because I'm trying to anticipate the way I think he's going to move instead of the way he actually is going to move (hello, self?! The boy leads...duh!) and we are all over the place.
And then the darndest thing happens. I stop trying to help. Not in a snarky 'fine, then just do it yourself' way, but as in a 'Let me know what you need and I'm here for ya' kind of way. And we bumble through the steps a couple more times with me being (gasp) silently supportive and then it just clicks with R and we get it. And then we waltz our way across the room, ready to learn the next two steps. And from that point on, somehow we were on the same page and the dancing became a lot easier. And as a bonus? No one's toes (or toenails) died a horrible, painful death. Woot!