The Work: Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight

In the spirit of Present Moment Living, I promise not to spend too long moaning, “Holy crap, what happened to my fitness and dance life?” In the past are the months in which I did not do much of anything or performed this-n-that in disorganized spurts. There is only Now… and the gleam of the Future. I can’t seem to stick tightly enough to the N-O-W  to avoid setting goals that brightly feature WHEN and THEN. As I described my personality in a Facebook status, I’m not a person who can swim about in the middle of the ocean just for fun. There has to be an island I’m heading toward — one with stickers and shiny medals. And, bare-chested men in Latin pants! Not having a dance competition on the horizon makes me feel aimless, not freed. Not having a race set up and a running calendar established means runs become fewer and farther between, ’til I am seriously into endorphin deficit. And, my clothes don’t exactly fit, mostly around my middle-aged middle. Vanity rears its head, for sure, but so does Budget, which opines that we sure can’t afford to replace all that stuff so better get moving ’til it does fit! Including those overpriced and exquisite competition gowns that have been hanging in my closet for over 18 months.

Back to work! Happy work! The kind of work that makes me feel most like myself.

Thursday, March 19:

Belly dance, 3 hours. Yep, three. Over two and a half hours of practicing to present a 20-minute mini-class at a Women’s Night Out at a Jewish community center. The roar of over a hundred chit-chatting women drowned out my voice, even with a mic. Ended up teaching the small but enthusiastic group that came onto the dance floor mostly via mime.

Prepping to teach a mini-class in belly dance fitness. This is to belly dance what rumba is to Latin dance. Pulls out discrete elements to build fitness, rather than teaching a strict form of dance as performance art.

Prepping to teach a mini-class in belly dance fitness. This is to belly dance what Zumba  is to Latin dance. Pulls out discrete elements to build fitness, rather than teaching a strict form of dance as art.

Friday, March 20:

Latin dance: 30 minutes. Reviewing the student-teacher syllabus for International Rumba & Cha Cha Cha with an ISTD DVD. It features an elderly Miriam Ellis reading from the syllabus in her chair, interspersed with blurry footage of two dancers. The twinkle in Miriam’s voice indicates she has been around more than a few men in Latin pants and it did her a lifetime worth of good!

Running: 20 minutes. High-intensity intervals on the treadmill. In eight interval sets, covered 1.85 miles. The pace averaged one minute of walking at a 15:25 pace + 30 seconds of jogging at a 10:32 pace + 1 minute of running at an 8:20 pace.

Belly dance: 20 minutes.

Saturday, March 21:

Belly dance: 1 hour. Upper body isolations.

Weight-training: 1 hour, 15 minutes. Legs & back + Ab Ripper. My old friend P90X to jumpstart things. Yes, I’m a trainer and can well make up my own workout, but this feels like I have my own charming, somewhat cheesy but very built coach urging me on. Just until the habit is nailed back down, anyway.

Sunday, March 22:

Weight-training: 1 hour. Shoulders & Arms. Still hanging with Tony Horton. I owe him some loyalty for how sore my legs are from yesterday’s workout. Gosh, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to have something sore Every Day. Feels like home!

Yoga: 30 minutes.

Belly dance: 30 minutes. Upper body isolations.


Back to practicing competition routines in the studio and to using a firm calendar of run training.


  1. Jonathan Caswell · March 23, 2015


    Liked by 1 person

  2. Jonathan Caswell · March 30, 2015

    Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:


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