Nine and a half weeks

The first class of the new year was on Tuesday and it’s been nine and a half weeks for me since the last one. Back in the old days, we used to go all summer, if not with U.’s school, then with her classes at the university. I actually love having class in the heat — you don’t have to warm up much and you’re flexible as chewed gum.

But for the last few years, everybody’s gone home to Russia for July and August, and it’s so easy to do nothing. Then it’s torture.

At first classes in September, U. doesn’t work us that hard, really… or it doesn’t feel hard at the time…. but it is very slow, both hands on the barre, four counts for every plié and relevé. U. had slow, dirge-y waltz music for the whole class. It made me miss our Broadway hits / pop classics mix from last year — I wonder if she will have something entirely new for when we’re up to speed.

Me, I was pleased that I wasn’t stiff at all yesterday. I bounced around like an immortal, noting how un-stiff I was. Then the stiffness kicked in last night. Is this long delay between workout and pain a function of age or long-time training? I fear it’s the former but will front the latter.

Noticed once more how delightful GJ’s English is… half of it has a Russian accent but half of it is as North-American-accented as a native. So interesting. U. has a fully Russian accent, Nollia has a Canadian accent, but Middle Bear has a little of each… depending on where she picked up the phrase.

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