I took a pole dancing class and couldn’t straighten my arms for the next three days
Let no one ever say it’s easy
During the cold winter months, with essays and responsibilities looming, I decided a distraction was necessary. I was also aware I was eating more than the average horse, yet I was moving less than the average sloth – so I decided to try a new kind of exercise: pole dancing.
I teamed up with my friend Tiffany who was similarly in the depths of third year boredom, and we booked a taster session at Pole Fitness. I’ll point out now that Tiffany is a beautifully graceful advanced ballroom dancer, and I am not.
We googled what to wear, and apparently you’re supposed to bare as much flesh as you can bear, so that you can stick to the pole (ooer). As a sane person who likes to keep my legs warm in winter, I had no sports shorts at uni, so I resorted to rolling up my sports leggings to mid thigh. The sexiness factor associated with pole dancing had been well and truly met.
As we rocked up to the class, my rolled up leggings made me look a) stupid and b) overambitious about the moves that we would be performing. I quickly discovered that leggings would be fine for a beginner, and immediately rolled down my leggings in order to stop looking like a confused prat.
Our lovely and patient instructor, Maxine, showed us the first move to test whether we could hold our own weight: essentially grab the pole, lift your feet off the ground and drop in a controlled manner. Besides our hands creating the most horrendous squeaky friction sounds on the pole, we managed this move without too much trouble.
Next, we tried a manoeuvre where we essentially swung in a semi-circle from one side of the pole to the other, but with leg flicks at either side. Needless to say, Tiff (the aforementioned ballroom dancer) was better at this.
After this, things got more complicated – we started to do proper air moves. We stretched out our shoulders and went for it.
For our final move, we did a spinning move where we basically spun around the pole and took flight. I harnessed all of my raw sexual energy and went for it. This is how it turned out:
Afterwards, Maxine led a stretching session and warned us that if we didn’t stretch properly we’d be incredibly stiff the next day. We did stretch, and yet as I swung my legs out of bed the next morning for a fun-filled day of lectures, my entire body cried.
Despite the pain, we actually had a cracking time and definitely had a full body work out: we’re now signed up for a six week course of pole dancing.