I really hate exercising. I hate it so much that I try extremely hard to avoid it and I am relatively successful at doing just that.
A good friend feels exactly the same way and two months ago persuaded me to take up….yup, you’ve guessed it, pole dancing. To the uninitiated, it probably sounds both slutty and easy (easy meant in a literal sense) but before we go any further, let me assure you that it is neither.
It is in fact surprisingly hard to do; hurts like hell (my pea-sized arm muscles – now at least the size of a broad bean – are sore for days afterwards) but is a massive giggle and, here’s the key, really doesn’t feel like you are exercising.
There are three of us in our class and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We have mastered all sorts of ‘tricks’ as they are called: there’s ‘Kate Moss’, ‘Vanessa’, ‘Jamilla’, and who knows who else.
Here’s the Vanessa in action:
I particularly hate Jamilla but love the knee spin which I have almost mastered:
I am easily the worst out of the three of us. Lesson one began with me clinging hopelessly to the pole, koala-style, unable to swing on it or event let go. I have now progressed to beginner level (turns out they don’t have classes for koalas) so I’m thrilled to belong in a category, no matter how lowly.
Our teacher is the amazing graceful Elena who also teaches classical ballet and is a seemingly weightless person who can wrap herself effortlessly around the pole. I still land as heavily as a rhino (see video clip below) but I am working on it. She also has the flattest stomach I think I have ever seen.
Anyone as hopeless at exercising as me? This is an extremely good workout for your upper body and really doesn’t feel like torture (until the day after).
My pole dancing is a Bobbi’s Pole Studio, 222 Queen Street, opposite Food for Thought.
Here’s a video or two for any disbelievers out there. *Spoiler Alert* I can desexualise and unglamourise pole dancing in 6 seconds flat!