Step, Stomp, Scuff, Splat.

I think I've mentioned that I've started heading off to line dancing once a week on just a few occasions before. I can't say that I was very enthusiastic about going at first; I really don't even like much country music. But I decided to go for the fitness factor; mum gained herself some pretty impressive calf muscles after she started going. The first week back this year, I was close to piking out, but I ended up sticking with it. (I may or may not have been bribed with dinner out at the club that night, but I'm I'll never tell.)

Now that my self conscious brain has gotten over the whole 'I'm dancing in public without any fuzzy, alcohol-induced beverages involved, oh shit' factor and since I actually have a couple of dances under my belt, I feel much better about it now. I'm even attempting to do the little twirls that everyone else can do so beautifully. (This too is pretty impressive, coming from the girl who used to triumphantly turn to the next wall of the dance and keep on dancing, without realising that everyone else was facing the opposite wall.)

Now if only I could stop forgetting the dances as soon as I've done them! This line dancing business is something that would be so much fun to do with a bunch of mates. I'd recommend going with someone who is a worse dancer than you, because I am evil and find that makes me much more comfortable. Just ask mum, I'm sure that's why she brings me along. (Let's face it, I'm a terrible dancer.)

After all, what can be better than learning a dance choreographed to 'Who Let the Dogs Out?' Hilarious, but bloody fantastic all the same.

0 Comments • Labels:  


All content (C) Breathe Gently 2006-2023
Blog Design by Splendid Sparrow