The fusion belly dance classes I take on Wednesday nights appear to be an acquired taste. There are only five or six of us that are regulars, and any new participants usually have about a twenty-percent chance of actually sticking around. I attribute this to one very simple factor:
My fusion instructor is a sadist. She enjoys causing us pain.
I’m serious. I am constantly convinced that she’s trying to kill me via strength training. Her latest muscle group du jour is the gluts and upper thigh. So she has us doing leg lifts.
For those of you that just went, pfft, that doesn’t sound so bad, try lying on the floor on your side and lifting one leg into the air…THIRTY TIMES. Then circle that leg ten times forward, and ten times backward. Then lift BOTH legs off the floor ten times. Then hold them both up off the floor, and lift the top leg higher ten times. Then hold it higher and lift the bottom leg to meet it ten times.
And then, just when you start to think about curling into a ball and dying, roll over onto the other side and do all that again on the other leg. You’re welcome.
And THEN do lots of hip-opener stretches and core work, and you have our usual Wednesday night warm up.
The funny thing is, us regulars keep coming back. While newbies show up all bright eyed and bushy tailed and then leave never ever to return, the six of us keep showing up for class week after week.
I’ve always thought our friendship and dance camaraderie has a lot to do with the fact that we all share the same absurd, lewd, irreverent sense of humor and a tendency toward oversharing, innuendo, and misplaced familiarity (I got butt-grabbed and air-fondled within the same half hour last night; it was the most action I’ve seen in quite some time). Or just that we’re all completely insane. But I think last night my instructor hit the nail right on the head:
We’re not only allowing our good friend and dance instructor to torture us, we’re PAYING HER to do it. Last night we even ASKED to do the stupid leg exercises when she was thinking of skipping them. We are paying her to cause us non-injurious pain and asking for more.
We’re all a bunch of masochists. And she is our dom.