Battered and Bruised

and living my best life

I can only imagine what I looked like to the passing cars as I sprinted up the hill, sandals slapping on the concrete and my tote bag swinging around on my shoulder.

Yikes. That seems highly impractical. I hope she makes it to where she’s going..

It was certainly not an ideal outfit for running, but the lightening streaking across the sky called for a little pep in the step.

I was two blocks from home when the rain caught up to the lightning. A few drops at first, then a torrential downpour. It was not unlike standing beneath one of those giant, tilting buckets at a waterpark.

My lungs were already at max capacity, but slowing down wasn’t an option because the wind decided to join the party. I’m pretty sure I would have been pushed backward had I slowed down. The wind was so strong that the rain was falling horizontally, pelting me in the face. I used my water bottle to shield my eyes (unsuccessfully) and tried not to pay attention to the debris that was stirring around me (thankfully(?), as I mentioned, it was hard to see).

My feet started to slip around in my sandals and I knew that one wrong step was going to send me tumbling down, but I couldn’t tell if the rain was switching to hail, so I kept pushing forward.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I stumbled into my apartment complex - panting, shins ablaze, and absolutely soaked.

“Thanksfor —— opening —— thedoor,” I squeaked out to the nice man who saw me fumbling with the key fob.

It took a hot shower and a full bottle of water to finally get my heart rate back to normal.

How did I get in this situation? Well, 25 years ago I decided I WAS NOT going to dance class and now here we are.

When I was little, I refused to take a dance class because that was a girl sport and I didn’t want to do a girl sport. I only wanted to do whatever sports my brother was doing (I know, I know, a lot to unpack there. It was the early 2000s). Consequently, I became an adult with the flexibility of an 80 year old man and the spacial awareness of a caffeinated toddler.

I am now on a mission to change all of that. Ironically, I learned that I LOVE to dance. It’s fascinating, it’s fun, it’s social, it’s a sport full of talented, incredible people. I’m obsessed.

It took me a long time to work up the courage to sign up for a class. I kept telling myself it was impractical.

Why not pick something I already know how to do and just improve on existing skills?

What if I get hurt trying to learn something that I should have learned as a kid?

What if I look like stupid?? And what if everyone else already knows how to dance?

Practicality has a time and a place (I stand by this, it’s a huge part of my personality), but it’s also wayyyy too easy for me to use it as a defense mechanism.

If the goal is to create an interesting life, then the most practical option is the option that allows someone to be interesting and fun and happy. I don’t mean to ignore necessary responsibilities or neglect the future self, but a lot of times practicality really is a matter of perspective.

It’s practical to challenge yourself. It’s practical to expand your skill set and your social circle. It’s practical to enjoy life.

When I finally took my first class, it was HARD.

I left with bruises. I got half the moves wrong, but the instructor had the biggest heart and my classmates were so supportive. I couldn’t believe I’d been missing out on this kind of fun for my entire life.

Could I have spent those two hours doing something else? Obviously. That “something else,” though, wouldn’t have necessarily been “more practical.” Also, who says practical is the point??? Who says easy and pain-free is the point???

I’ve taken that dance class about once a month for the past year now. I’m still a bad dancer, but I’m getting better (!!!) and the experience is more energizing than I ever could have imagined.

Yes, it can be exhausting going after a long work day. Yes, the lingering bruises can be a bit tender.

And yes, I did get caught in a thunderstorm on my way home from class last week, but I needed to shower anyway.

Two other ways I was “impractical” this week:

I made a miniature cake even though it requires the same amount of dishes and time as a regular cake. It was delicious. I have no regrets and no wasted cake.

I paid $2 extra for a basic vanilla sundae so I could get it in a souvenir helmet. I don’t even like “trinkets” (usually), but this made me feel like I was 6 years old and watching baseball with my cousins. I will absolutely be serving dessert in this all summer.