Not sure if this is inspiring… or just proof I’m not 25 anymore.

Hey there, awesome readers!

Hold on. I need to catch my breath…

Phew

Okay, thanks for waiting.

What. A. Week.

As some of you may know, I’m a competitive hip hop dancer.

EXCEPT…

I couldn’t dance last season due to a sciatica flare-up.

Couldn’t dance? Who am I kidding? I could barely vacuum.

If you’ve never suffered the hell that is sciatica, let me paint you a picture…

The pain starts somewhere at the bottom of your spine and goes down your leg. For me it started in my left ass cheek and went down to the bottom of my calf. There were days where if I was alone and didn’t have help putting on my shoes, it would take me close to 20 minutes if not longer. And then I had to somehow find a way to fold my body into my car.

There were a few days where after sweating and swearing through the pain of getting my clothes on, it was simply impossible for me to get in my car. Feeling defeated, I had to give up on my plans for the day and hobble my way back into my house.

In case you’re wondering, the answer is, “yes, I spent those days in bed, contemplating my life. Chronic pain makes you question EVERYTHING.

And now here we are. I’m finally on the healing side of this journey. I still feel it to an extent but NOTHING like it was four… six… nine months ago. It’s been a long and slow recovery but I’m back to dancing. Along with my regular team classes and practices, this year I decided to take two extra dance classes. The problem is the classes are all clumped together.

So, this is my dance calendar this season:

Mondays

Team Class/Practice: 6 p.m. – 8 p.m.

Tuesdays

Skills N’ Drills Class: 6 p.m. – 7:30 p.m.Hip Hop – 17+ years old: 7:30 p.m. – 8:30 p.m.

In case your math is as broken as mine, that’s four and half hours of intense dancing within a 24-hour period. And then there’s all the at-home practice that’s required because, as one of my dance teachers said last night, practice is evolution. (Totally love that. It’s my new motto and I may even get it tattooed on my body. Forehead probably.)

Fun fact: I’m 60 years old (until my next birthday).

SIXTY.

And the Tuesday Hip Hop class is 17+. Well, you don’t need a calculator to figure out that there’s a problem here. And it’s not a math problem.

When I walked out of the dance studio last night there were voices screaming at me from all parts of my body.

Left Knee:

YO! Do you even own a calendar! This is 2025, not 1995!!! What the hell are you doing to me???

Lower Back:

Ummm… Excuse me, but I think your birth certificate is laughing at you. Also, don’t bend down anymore today. If you have to pee, do it standing up. Begging over here.

Neck:

Why do I hear popcorn? Is someone making popcorn???

Thighs:

Who am I? Where are we? Has someone been chewing on me? I feel numb.

When I got home last night, I did what any sensible sixty-year-old would do: I went to bed.

My point is this: If you want to dance, go ahead. I encourage it at any age. Just remember that if you’re close to my age, you’ll soon discover that your body has some serious opinions.

Meanwhile, if you need any more inspiration, I’ll just be over here… lying down.

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