Ramblings

See ya, 2012!

Peace out, 2012. You were pretty fun, but I am SO over you and ready to move on.

Of course it’s that time of year where folks set up some New Year’s resolutions for themselves. Let me look back a year to see if I made this futile effort last year…..damn, you’re still there? Well, the answer was no, I didn’t. The year before either. I’m smarter than I thought. This year, my uber-intelligence continues as I will not make resolutions for the year. I will, however, make weekly goals that would help me attain my “New Year’s resolutions” that I’m not making. I’m just being realistic here. Because I know me. Oh, in addition to the weekly goals, I am thinking also a monthly pole goal (that is composed of two points).

And so, so let it be written, so let it be done. I’m getting a head start.

The January Pole Goal: Brass Monkey (pole), Michelle’s crazy floor swipe (floorwork). There, I said it. Not so bad, and attainable as long as I just work on them. With all credit to Pole Dance Dictionary (love them), here’s a picture of the Brass Monkey:

And if you tell me how easy this move is, I will straight up go Cartman on you and kick you in the NUTS! It could be easy though, I just haven’t really tried it out yet. So maybe your nuts are safe. Likely that if you’re reading this you don’t even have any (except Bob, Conrad, and Joe).

I cannot show you Michelle’s floor swipe thingy, or at least I can’t link to it currently. She actually calls it a Hand Press Leap. If you know anything of pole dance and/or anything of Michelle, then you know it’s fantastic. Period.

And sooner in January would be better than later in January as I would really like to have both of these moves in my routine for the February showcase. Goals? I haz them.

So, right now, my pole move list has 16 moves on it. Plenty to get me through the year at one a month and obviously a few extra for those months that I’m working extra hard.

That is actually the part of “goal setting” and achieving that will likely be easy. The remainder, not so much, mainly due to time constraints. I’m still going to try to make it happen.

2013 is the year of the book. I’ve been sitting on this chick lit story forever and since Ms. Mattas said it’s book writing year, then let’s get on it.

2013 is the year of front splits. I really am close enough that if I put in serious work on it, I’d be on the floor by my 40th birthday. Let’s get on it.

2013 will hold a couple other things, I’m sure, but surprises are fun. And without further ado, for me more than for you, I present the Monday Musings, or Sh!t I Wanna Do This Week:

2 cardio sessions (1 down, 1 to go)
2 weight sessions
3 stretching sessions
1 foam rolling session
2 pole sessions
2 1 hour writing sessions
3 blog sessions

Not bad. I think I can do this. Who needs sleep, right?

I’ve put these things out into the universe. May they not come back and sucker punch me.

Have a wonderful (AND SAFE!!!) New Year’s Eve folks! See you next year and be ready to rock and roll!

Aerial Awareness. Or, I Am A Cat

Many moons ago, after my first step off the board, I became addicted to flying trapeze. As my addiction grew, of course, I wanted to learn more and more. And involved in that more and more was flying without safety lines.

In order to reach my goal, there were tests that I needed to pass. Honestly, at the time, it felt like the powers that be were just stalling me for time, but looking back at it now, I know that it was all for good reason. I spent a LOT of time on the trampoline working on those seat drops (easy), swivel hips (easy), back drop (awkward but easy), stomach drop (scorpioned one or two, but got it), a few other moves that include the word drop, and the dreaded back drop to back drop. (Check this site if you want to learn more trampoline stuff.)

What all of this trampolining was teaching me was aerial awareness. Or, in layman’s terms, the ability to know where my body is in the air in relation to the super hard ground. After I finally reached my goal and was given the green light to take my first swing without safety lines, I knew one of the most amazing feelings on earth. There is almost nothing as freeing as sailing through the air, feeling and hearing the wind rush past your face and ears. LOVE! Now add a little flip, twist, or boost into the air and life has gotten even better.

I was able to continue my journey without safety lines for quite some time before that trampoline training actually came into play. You see, I’m a creature of habit and I get distracted when things are outside of the norm. So, on that fateful day, when there were about 5 people on the board rather than our usual 2 or 3, yes, I was distracted.

Let me preface the next part of this story with this: I have issues with pointing my toes. I know 1000% full well how awful flexed feet look in a performance (when it isn’t intentional). I work on it, I really do, but sometimes, my feet just want to be flexed.

I took off the board, throwing my uprise shoot (click to see video…not of me). Distracted. Not thinking of every detail of the trick. Down to my feet. My damnned flexed feet. My damnned flexed feet that caught on the bar and took me from uprise shoot to downward dive in a millisecond. A full trapeze trick from board to catcher and back to the board lasts about about 15 seconds. Practicing that trick to the net about half that time. In that about 8 seconds of trick time, about 1.5 of those are spent going to the net. 1.5 seconds is not a long time. Except if you’re falling head first towards the net. Time slows down when you just might break your neck.

Aerial Awareness training, ACTIVATE! Form of, a trampoline! Shape of, the person practicing on that nice, safe trampoline!

So here’s what’s going through my head in those 1.5 seconds: Tuck? Take it to my back? Tuck? Take it to my back? OSHITHERECOMESTHENETJUSTUCKANDSAVEYOURLIFE!!!! And so I tucked it in and landed nice and safely. I think I scared a person or two. But I made it. All that trampoline work was not for naught. Thank you.

Fast forward twelve years. Geez….twelve years. I’m in the studio and I’m trying a new move. Not odd to be trying a new move. Not smart to be trying a new move when I don’t have an out. When I’m head to the floor. When I don’t have a crash mat. And for whatever reason, however it happened, because I honestly couldn’t tell you, in that split second, I was not on the pole. Not with my hands, not with my legs, or feet, or with anything. And you know what? Aerial awareness training kicked in. I don’t think that I “thought”. I simply reacted. I don’t know how it happened, but with my head barely four feet off the floor, I somehow managed to get my feet to the floor first. I am a cat.

I like keeping all of my parts in their full and working capacities, so I likely won’t be making that mistake again. I hope that if you are on the pole trying something new that you won’t do what I do. That you’ll always know your out. That you’ll always have a spot. That you’ll always have a crash mat. Please. I want you around to hear my next rambling post. 🙂

On Teaching

The other night, one of my students, Vivienne, (who is also a fellow instructor) complimented me on my teaching ability. You see, we were in our spin class and I try to encourage all students to search the internet and if they see something that they like or want to learn, bring it to class (or show me ahead of time) and if I can figure it out and I feel that it’s safe for the class, then we’ll try it. This was the case this past week. Fortunately, due to the move being accessible to those of us who aren’t pros, I was able to decipher the movement after a couple times of trying it myself. Afterwards, I gave an explanation and the majority of the class was able to get the move or at the very least, understand the concept. I’m not one to stand still…or right-side up, and so I do a lot of explaining whilst in motion..or upside-down. I guess this isn’t the norm. But then again, what do I do that IS in the norm? 🙂

Until Vivienne mentioned it, I really never thought about teaching and being good at it. I just do what I do. When I actually did start thinking about it, though, I’ve been “teaching” for quite some time. Let’s get in the way back machine, shall we?

A couple of full-time jobs back, I trained my replacement. Office stuff. Snooze.

Summertimes for the last couple of years – let’s teach people the flying trapeze!

Zumba, yo! (Ok, I’m certified to teach it, but I don’t currently.)

Oh, the Club Med years….taught some folks how to bartend, how to rollerblade, do all kinds of circus stuff. Even trained a fellow GO to be a circus GO. (I’m pretty proud of that one and you’ll really only get it if I either tell you the whole story or you understand the inner workings of Club Med.) Pretty sure I taught some chicks how to get loose too, lol. (PLUS PLUS, a Francais)

Restaurant work – I was a corporate trainer for a restaurant once. Taught my girls how to sling those drinks and make that money.

In my free time, back then, I tried to teach a person or two how to go out safely with $5 in your pocket, have the drinks that you want, and still come home with that $5 in your pocket.

Without even realizing it, I’ve been “teaching” in one way or another for quite some time now. I would have to say that teaching pole is up there in intensity with teaching circus stuff. I would also say that teaching circus really helps me in my pole teaching. They share that body awareness factor that allows me to say, “Move your <insert body part> in this way,” and most of the time, it works.

I think what I’m noticing is that teaching could very well be my life force. I feel empty when I don’t get to ~~boss people around~~ do a little teaching. Every life-sucking moment that I am sitting in an office, I am thinking about how I should be teaching. Gotta make that happen.

Also realizing that I don’t have an ending for this post……

Shower Dog? Yoga Around The House

Down Shower? Down Shower Dog? Drown Dog? (No, that one sounds pretty bad.) OK, Shower Dog.

What the hell am I talking about? An adapted downward facing dog in the shower. Obviously, regular down dog in the shower isn’t gonna cut it…unless you shower in a snorkel and mask. Personally, I leave those items for the ocean, so being in a position trying to stretch where water can run up my nose (yeah) doesn’t really interest me. Realize that I’m no yogi; I’m a recreational yoga class attendee. When I say class, I mean P90X in the basement. So, I’m sure it’s understandable that perhaps Down Dog isn’t even the most appropriate way to describe this. Perhaps a shower dolphin is better. Let’s just talk about it and you can decide for yourself.

The other day, I ate like an absolute pig. Way too much. As punishment, I was the recipient of a gas bubble that was as hard as a rock, sitting beneath my ample bosom. Ha! I tried to get rid of it by massaging it down, but this sucker was stubborn. It’s like it was just giving me the finger and saying, “Why’d you eat that if you weren’t even hungry?!?!” I decided to take me and my new gas bubble friend to the shower. After just enjoying the hot water for a little bit, I thought that I would try elongating the bubble thinking that maybe it just couldn’t move because it was too big.

Enter Shower Dog. This would be a lot easier if I just took a picture, but I’m not getting in the shower fully clothed and I can’t see the hubby being thrilled about taking that photo. Anywho, here’s the position: I place my hands on the back wall of the shower, fully extending my arms over my head. Now, I arch pretty hard and move my face and ample bosom (Ha!) towards the back wall as well so that I am getting a lovely shoulder stretch. To take full advantage of the space, I also engage my quads and hammies and think about getting my hammies up against the wall that the shower head is on. Hopefully you can picture this. I held the “pose” for a little bit, released, did it again without the leg engagement, released, did it again with the legs engaged.

You know what’s crazy? It worked. The gas bubble of death moved along its merry way. Bonus that I got some nice stretching in as well. I think I’ll keep doing random, adapted yoga all over the house. Makes it kinda fun. Of course I’ll share all of my fun with you! Thanks for asking, lol.

Killer Instinct – Happy Halloween!

The one or two people who actually read this blog will probably not know/remember the video game Killer Instinct. You can read the wiki here. So either you remember the game or you read the wiki (or you just kept reading because you don’t care and you think that the rest of this post will be just my usual blather) and maybe you even remember some of the characters. If you do remember, you can just call me Sabrewulf. When my godsister and I used to it the arcade, usually after getting our nails done, lol, Killer Instinct was usually on tap, and Sabrewulf was my character of choice. Not really the toughest of characters, Sabrewulf typically took an ass beating before going bonkers with his attack. This was then and continues to be now, a bit like me. I will put up with the most shit possible before I just snap out and tell you about yourself. See me (Sabrewulf) in action here because I can’t embed this m-f-ing video.

Yeah, that’s how I roll. And over the last few months, I’ve felt myself slipping deeper and deeper into some girly, crying at bubble gum commercials, oh my god my feelings, sort of madness. Seriously. I’ve been tearing up at COMMERCIALS! Who the hell am I and where did regular, tough me go?!?! I still don’t know where she went, but I sure as shit know where I found her.

You see, this past Saturday, I attended a women’s self-defense workshop held by the Krav Maga gym fairly close to my house. I spent a good amount of time feeling sorry for my partner(s) as I released all sorts of pent up everything into those little rectangular pads. We learned quite a bit of useful information in those two hours. Of course, I would never go purposely putting myself into danger because “I took a self-defense class”, but I do feel better about my overall ability to keep myself safe outside of the house. You know, cuz inside my house, it’s the Make My Day law.

At the end of the class, we all had the “opportunity” to be “attacked” by big blue, otherwise known as one of the instructors in a lot of padding. There were three rules:

(As we all stood in a circle around the attackee and attacker) When the attack begins, scream and yell to encourage the attackee. (Look, I know that probably isn’t a word, just go with the flow, ok? No? Elbow, elbow, elbow, groin kick, 10 hammer punches to the back of your head.)
Do not retaliate until actually attacked.
When the attacker is on all fours on the floor, stop.

As we stood around the circle, I really did great at number 1. So well, in fact, that I was nearly without voice on Sunday. When it was my turn inside the circle, I was able to follow the second instruction. (I was going to say I did number 2, but, you know, lol.) For a moment, let’s recap what happened in step 2.

I stood in the center of the circle, eyes closed. Now, a man in a padded suit is not necessarily quiet and due to the previous 90 minutes of punching and kicking, let’s just say I was amped up higher than the top of the highest 14-er. Spring loaded might be a good term there. As Mr. Pads walked around me, saying things that probably would either scare or disgust most people, my inner Sabrewulf started prepping for the fight. Mr. Pads caressed the side of my face. He played with my hair. It’s so cliche, but seriously, the tension in that room? Palpable. Even with my eyes closed, I knew exactly where he was every second. And just when I thought that this would just go on forever, he came in for the attack.

Perhaps once or twice before, I have had this level of focus. My hair trigger didn’t even allow him to fully get me into the bear hug before Sabrewulf showed up all claws out, elbows, fists, knees, and legs in full force. Remember the first rule? Yeah, I’m sure that was happening, but from the moment I threw the first elbow, there was no sound other than me breathing and pads being pummeled. I couldn’t hear my classmates cheering me on, only the voice inside my head that said “Fight like you mean it”.

All of this pent-up rage released on this poor man. Blinded by rage. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase. I experienced it. Somewhere in my brain, I could recognize that he was on the floor on all fours, but he was also still moving which meant I was still punching. I didn’t hear them say “Time!”. Or “Ok!”. I felt someone pull me off of him. It wasn’t until that point that I came back to the room.

Such a strange sensation to be pretty much lost in yourself. I guess that’s the fight or flight response. And you know my stubborn ass will likely always pick fight. Much like a teacup pup, I don’t realize my size and think I can take on the Dobies. I’m probably crazy, but I’m ok with that. I keep that crazy bottled up and on a shelf, and every now and again, I dust off the bottle, but it stays neatly intact on the shelf. I think it might even say, “Break in case of emergency”, and in that emergency, Sabrewulf doesn’t just pick the bottle up and open it, Sabrewulf smashes it with a hammer punch and releases the beast. Funny how we work like that, isn’t it?

I’ve returned to normal. No more crying at commercials, or anything else silly for that matter. Back to my normal. Thank goodness. I don’t think I could have taken much more of the over-emotions.

Now, for the PSA. Ladies, go find yourself a self-defense class. You just never know what might happen. There are some scary statistics out there that we women are raped and/or killed on the regular. Please, learn to protect yourself. Don’t become a statistic!!

Ramblings

See ya, 2012!

Aerial Awareness. Or, I Am A Cat

On Teaching

Shower Dog? Yoga Around The House

Killer Instinct – Happy Halloween!

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Too Damn Slow

Ghosts (of Days Gone By)

Raunchy Activated