Two weeks ago, I took a pole dancing class. In 5 words: it was an epic failure. Never in my life have I felt the way I did that day. I felt embarrassed, frustrated and angry with myself. Embarrassed of my weight, frustrated at my lack of ability to "work the pole" and angry with myself for being such a perfectionist and being so hard on myself. My weight has never stopped me from doing things like this before but as I stood at the pole in the back of the class, apart from everyone, I couldn't help myself to look at the other beginners that were there that evening. They were all slim and had no issues with doing the "martini" move (pic above) or any other basic spins on the pole. I, on the other hand, could not seem to do ANY of them. I was able to take my feet off the floor ONCE and was thrilled but even though the teacher encouraged me, I knew she was only patronising me. *sigh* I felt a lump in my throat and wanted to flee within the first 10 minutes. Despite my emotions, I stuck it out for the remainder of the class (it was a good workout, however frustrating). It obviously isn't for me (hubby is relieved!) but I did, however, register for their stretch class. I figured it would be a great workout to loosen up my hips and help me become more nimble.
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