Some days I feel like my body is conspiring against me.
First it was the heat . . .
Friday night in the midst of the most wonderful dances, I felt suddenly too warm. Then hot. Then very, very hot. Not the kind of hot from a warm room filled with lots of people dancing - I mean radiating hot. This after making a concerted effort to relax all of the muscles that I could - to release tension. After reading Movement invites Movement's post. I decided to try a little conservation of energy as it were. And it was working. Releasing all of that tension that was keeping my muscle taut was making me feel cooler. Of course it helped that I was dancing primarily with favorite partners to favorite music -relaxed and comfortable.
And suddenly I wasn't.
At first I thought it's much too early for it to be that and then I checked my watch. Almost midnight. Never mind. It was right on time.
(Warning: Like it wasn't bad enough that I wrote about bras and body odor - now I'm going to write about menopause. Or technically perimenopause in my case.)
Hot flashes. Fabulous. I was already flushed, but I think I deepened a shade at the thought. It's silly to be embarrassed - and mostly I'm not. Just at these inconvenient times. I excused myself and stood by a cracked open door that was letting in the night's cold air. While it felt so good, I could still hear my mother's voice saying, 'you'll catch pneumonia doing that!' I decided to take that chance. No clothes to change into I just waited it out. The heat wave didn't really stop for about an hour - but going to stand by the door helped.
The lovely bottle of wine brought by another dancer may not have helped the heat, but it certainly made me feel a little better about it.
Then it was the pain . . .
I'm hoping it's just the cold weather causing ever increasing bouts of pain. I don't want to think it's a new baseline level for me. I refuse to believe it. At least it waited until the next morning to really hit me and didn't start during the milonga as it's done before. I decided to risk it and go to Saturday's milonga anyway. Often the pain gets better with dancing - or maybe I just don't feel it as much. It doesn't matter - the end result is feeling better. I didn't dance well. I kept having to change stance (in some cases shifting weight without my partner and then quickly trying to shift back - which never works) to favor parts that were hurting. My balance was suffering. The later it got the more I felt it. And the pain was getting worse, not better. Then the heat rolled in again. I wasn't even dancing when it hit.
I didn't make it to the end. I said my goodbyes and called it a night.
By the time I got home, the heat had subsided and I was freezing cold - so cold that I couldn't bear the thought of icing down my muscles and feet. I crawled into bed and dreamed of dancing. Tonight I'm missing practica so that hopefully I can dance again by Tuesday.
First it was the heat . . .
Friday night in the midst of the most wonderful dances, I felt suddenly too warm. Then hot. Then very, very hot. Not the kind of hot from a warm room filled with lots of people dancing - I mean radiating hot. This after making a concerted effort to relax all of the muscles that I could - to release tension. After reading Movement invites Movement's post. I decided to try a little conservation of energy as it were. And it was working. Releasing all of that tension that was keeping my muscle taut was making me feel cooler. Of course it helped that I was dancing primarily with favorite partners to favorite music -relaxed and comfortable.
And suddenly I wasn't.
At first I thought it's much too early for it to be that and then I checked my watch. Almost midnight. Never mind. It was right on time.
(Warning: Like it wasn't bad enough that I wrote about bras and body odor - now I'm going to write about menopause. Or technically perimenopause in my case.)
Hot flashes. Fabulous. I was already flushed, but I think I deepened a shade at the thought. It's silly to be embarrassed - and mostly I'm not. Just at these inconvenient times. I excused myself and stood by a cracked open door that was letting in the night's cold air. While it felt so good, I could still hear my mother's voice saying, 'you'll catch pneumonia doing that!' I decided to take that chance. No clothes to change into I just waited it out. The heat wave didn't really stop for about an hour - but going to stand by the door helped.
The lovely bottle of wine brought by another dancer may not have helped the heat, but it certainly made me feel a little better about it.
Then it was the pain . . .
I'm hoping it's just the cold weather causing ever increasing bouts of pain. I don't want to think it's a new baseline level for me. I refuse to believe it. At least it waited until the next morning to really hit me and didn't start during the milonga as it's done before. I decided to risk it and go to Saturday's milonga anyway. Often the pain gets better with dancing - or maybe I just don't feel it as much. It doesn't matter - the end result is feeling better. I didn't dance well. I kept having to change stance (in some cases shifting weight without my partner and then quickly trying to shift back - which never works) to favor parts that were hurting. My balance was suffering. The later it got the more I felt it. And the pain was getting worse, not better. Then the heat rolled in again. I wasn't even dancing when it hit.
I didn't make it to the end. I said my goodbyes and called it a night.
By the time I got home, the heat had subsided and I was freezing cold - so cold that I couldn't bear the thought of icing down my muscles and feet. I crawled into bed and dreamed of dancing. Tonight I'm missing practica so that hopefully I can dance again by Tuesday.
Comments
(insert shameless plug -->)
Of course resting more this weekend gave me the chance to reread your book, which can be found here: http://taooftango.com/
:-) :-)
(/plug)