More on Me and the Pole

For those of you anxiously awaiting an update on the Pole Yourself Thin/Stripper Aerobics class, here it comes:

1. I cannot wear shorts or skirts because there are bruises that run from my feet all the way up my thighs. I have bruises on my biceps and forearms. If the SO didn't look like such a sweetheart, I worry people would assume he's been beating me. Maybe the near-translucently-pale aren't meant for this line of work. Maybe someone should invent a foam floor. It could be like that memory foam mattress stuff. I'm just saying ... I'd want one even if I wasn't into pole dancing. It just sounds so pleasant.

2. My upper body has no desire to support the weight of my lower body whatsoever. There's a move called the "cartwheel" in which you use your arms to pull your legs up and over to the other side of the pole. My feet want to stay planted just where they are, and my arms want it that way, too. Neither half is willing to give, and neither half listens to a single message sent by my brain.

3. If the class handout (because, yes, we have a syllabus and vocab sheets) says that the exercise is a "comfort move," that exercise is neither comforting nor does it allow the muscles used in it to move the next day. 

4.There is nothing remotely sexy about any of this. Even without the bruises and my lack of talent, if you could see the strain on my face as I even attempt to pole dance, I think there'd be far more pity than attraction. What I imagine if I were to have an actual audience? Cringing, looking away and the occasional "Sweetie, are you going to be OK?" or "Honey, are you stuck?"

5. My dream of making it from beginner to intermediate class dies a little more each and every day.

* This is a photo of the red light district. It seemed kind of appropriate and related to the theme. Again, this is not the easiest subject matter to search on public domain photo sites.