I started taking a hip hop class at the gym. It gets me out of bed on Tuesdays and Thursdays and is usually jam-packed with women of all ages and one tremendously brave guy from time to time. I would call it the highlight of my day but I get to FaceTime with the kids on Tuesdays and Thursdays too. I miss them so much it hurts. I recently rediscovered how therapeutic dance can be.
Hip hop takes me back to my life long love of dance, starting at the Academy and then practices and performances with the Oak Park River Forest high school dance team and Orchesis. The only difference is the OPRF coach Donna would never let us listen to Beyonce or even think about trying to move like her. As far as Beyonce is concerned, “trying” is a critical word here.
The adult hip hop class is totally awesome, all choreographed and taught by the most beautiful, real, fun, talented woman who keeps us thinking, sweating and most importantly smiling for an hour. I have talked with her about my epilepsy, too, so I feel especially comfortable knowing she knows. I can breathe.
On Tuesday we danced to a song that includes high kicks. I didn’t realize how much I loved those kicks until I quit for 25 years and tried to see how high I could kick again at the age of 43. When I went back to class Thursday I could still feel the burn in my hamstrings. I am thinking I’ll do some kicks alone in the basement later today … or maybe I already did?
In the meantime, I’m still crazy obsessed with running. My goal this year, since the kids are now living with their dad back in Wisconsin, is to try some shorter races and see how fast I can run for three miles. I’m also determined to break my personal record at the Chicago marathon so I can run in Boston 2021.
Since my epilepsy is not controlled by medication and seizures are unpredictable, running alone is not an option, doctor’s orders. I have great running friends who help and Super Dad willing to follow me in the car. Despite the burning high kick hamstrings, I asked Super Dad to follow me for an hour instead of 40 minutes when the forecast was 70 degrees and sunny.
I was in a zone thanks to the weather but also the countless butterflies in Elmhurst, IL that came out to celebrate spring on the Prairie Path. I chased them, tried hard to keep up with them, lost them and then found others to out-pace me.
The butterfly is a representation of life, endurance, change, and hope. Hope is the key for me since it can be so hard to understand why my life has been turned upside down as a mom. I look for a sign of hope every day and hope my friends and family – as well as the butterflies and hip hop dancers – know they make a difference.
Seize the Day with Sarah 