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rushthatspeaksI looked around and suddenly discovered that I am in multiple dance classes-- BiCo Scottish, the Highland dancing lessons one weekend a month, and hopefully the experienced-dancers Scottish class on second and fourth Fridays. This is well over once a week. I do not know what happened. I also discovered that I have serious ambitions of becoming a Scottish teacher, which confuses me, because ordinarily, teaching anything is about the last thing I would ever, ever want to do. With Scottish, it just seems logical somehow. The obvious thing. Weird.
Anyhow, we had Highland this afternoon, and it kicked my ass. I do not think I have ever had a more impressive full-body workout, and I have, in my life, done gymnastics, rugby, fencing, tae kwon do, and an utterly brutal single session of pentchuc salate (a really cool Indonesian martial art that left me sitting on the floor wondering if the things I had just tried to do were actually humanly possible, the implication being that both the instructor and Kitten are actually superhuman. I still intend to seriously try salate, when I no longer have an academic class in direct conflict with it). The thing is, salate wore me out with the sheer unlikelyhood of the positions I was trying to make my body use. I threw myself at it, and bounced. Highland dancing is just as unlikely; it is a truly ridiculous idea to even think about trying to do some of these things. Except, due to two years of Scottish, and reserves of willpower I didn't know I had, I found that I could actually do them. If I concentrate with everything I have, I can do Highland without a) falling over or b) looking like an idiot. It's just, I spent about an hour using absolutely every single one of my physical resources. Consequently, I feel like somebody wrang me like a washcloth, and has now dropped me. I know I was the wringer, but my calf muscles wish to complain to the management.
For people who may be uncertain of the difference between Scottish and Highland: Scottish is a form of social dancing; it is done with other people, in pairs and groups. It has a fast tempo and a slow tempo, and can be learned by about anyone with a sense of rhythm, although being really good takes years and work. Highland is solo and is the thing one may see on television when something Scottish is being shown off-- the Highland Fling. It has, from what I can gather, two tempos, fast and insanely fast, and it requires a real degree of aerobic health to even think about attempting, let alone mastering.
Highland requires a hop high enough to clear the floor on every single beat. If you want to get a vague idea of what it is like, go jump up and down for two hours. Without stopping. Now do it on alternating legs. Now do it spinning around. In time to the music, please; very, very quickly. Now reflect that you aren't doing any of the footwork, which involves raising each foot very quickly as high as one's knees in varying positions and for varying degrees of time, while spinning around. Or any of the armwork. That's Highland.
I enjoyed it so much that I have simply concluded myself to be insane. Why else would I want to do something that impressively strenuous? Besides the fact that it is one of the cooler-looking things I have ever seen, and was so much fun, too. I mean, I spent portions of this afternoon doing situps. In a minidress. I hate situps. I especially hate situps which require losing all concept of modesty even if one is facing the wall. It was worth it. I must be nuts.
Angst-O-Meter: none
Anyhow, we had Highland this afternoon, and it kicked my ass. I do not think I have ever had a more impressive full-body workout, and I have, in my life, done gymnastics, rugby, fencing, tae kwon do, and an utterly brutal single session of pentchuc salate (a really cool Indonesian martial art that left me sitting on the floor wondering if the things I had just tried to do were actually humanly possible, the implication being that both the instructor and Kitten are actually superhuman. I still intend to seriously try salate, when I no longer have an academic class in direct conflict with it). The thing is, salate wore me out with the sheer unlikelyhood of the positions I was trying to make my body use. I threw myself at it, and bounced. Highland dancing is just as unlikely; it is a truly ridiculous idea to even think about trying to do some of these things. Except, due to two years of Scottish, and reserves of willpower I didn't know I had, I found that I could actually do them. If I concentrate with everything I have, I can do Highland without a) falling over or b) looking like an idiot. It's just, I spent about an hour using absolutely every single one of my physical resources. Consequently, I feel like somebody wrang me like a washcloth, and has now dropped me. I know I was the wringer, but my calf muscles wish to complain to the management.
For people who may be uncertain of the difference between Scottish and Highland: Scottish is a form of social dancing; it is done with other people, in pairs and groups. It has a fast tempo and a slow tempo, and can be learned by about anyone with a sense of rhythm, although being really good takes years and work. Highland is solo and is the thing one may see on television when something Scottish is being shown off-- the Highland Fling. It has, from what I can gather, two tempos, fast and insanely fast, and it requires a real degree of aerobic health to even think about attempting, let alone mastering.
Highland requires a hop high enough to clear the floor on every single beat. If you want to get a vague idea of what it is like, go jump up and down for two hours. Without stopping. Now do it on alternating legs. Now do it spinning around. In time to the music, please; very, very quickly. Now reflect that you aren't doing any of the footwork, which involves raising each foot very quickly as high as one's knees in varying positions and for varying degrees of time, while spinning around. Or any of the armwork. That's Highland.
I enjoyed it so much that I have simply concluded myself to be insane. Why else would I want to do something that impressively strenuous? Besides the fact that it is one of the cooler-looking things I have ever seen, and was so much fun, too. I mean, I spent portions of this afternoon doing situps. In a minidress. I hate situps. I especially hate situps which require losing all concept of modesty even if one is facing the wall. It was worth it. I must be nuts.
Angst-O-Meter: none
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Date: 2002-10-06 06:35 am (UTC)Isn't it fun? :) Dancedance yay.
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Date: 2002-10-06 08:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-10-06 11:46 am (UTC)