Here's the thing....
Today I just got back from an audition for Cats. Yes, I said Cats, and let's just say it did NOT go the way I had planned. Back in my day, whilst still in dancer body, I fancied myself to be quite the dancer. Maybe in my mind that's how I still see myself, maybe my body is in a direct fight with my mind, maybe I should just stop saying maybe. The main point is I'm not the lead pussy that I thought I was.
The combo started with a simple double pirouette into a switch leap followed by a tilt pullback. Nothing major right? I would like to take uno momento (that's Spanish for "a moment") to say only those freaky Russians with no body fat and who have trained since they were three months old could pull that off, but let me tell you, I danced it like my name was Mikhal..at least I thought I did. Here's the thing about perception: you see yourself doing it one way and sometimes your body says, in direct conflict, "Hey down there, we actually can't do this" but we fight her and we wind up injured. Like now.
Needless to say I went in full force. Now the image of a 300 lb man leaping in air can be majestic or outright frightening. You either clap or you grab the kids and head for the hills. There were no kids injured during this dance call! The pirouette was fine, the switch leap is when disaster 2010 began. Instead of a leap it was a hop and instead of a switch it was more a twig. I may or may not have snagged another dancer on the way down. I lost footing, popped a hamstring and i'm pretty sure one of my balls is still floating under the producer's table.
I write to you know from the comfort of my couch with a heating pad, a glass of wine, half of a prescribed something, and a prayer. I was injured and injured bad.
To all my peeps out there, reach for the stars and if you can't reach them: Don't leap.