4.7.11

Every Thursday night, I morph into my former 21-year-old bar hopping self.

I put on all black, form-fitting clothing, and my most comfortable pair of shoes to dance in. 

I walk into the club, which is a little bright to start. I say hello to familiar faces. I see a group of male regulars, already in place for the night, getting out of their daily grind. And then the music starts pumping through the speakers. The lights get low. I am immediately moving to electronic bass, faster and faster. The song changes. I reach for my drink. I love this one! I start mouthing the words, close my eyes, and get lost in this 21-year-old world. 

Yep, I'm at Thursday night spinning class.

I can't properly express how much I love this particular class. It's partially the instructor, but it's mostly her music. 

I have always been moved more when a song is attached to an event. I would never cry during certain movies if it weren't for a sappy violin in the background. And funerals wouldn't be nearly as overwhelmingly depressing if they would just leave out "On Eagles' Wings." 

I have never felt as spiritually alive as I am when I am in the presence of the music of sweet Luna. 

And my adrenaline never pumps as fast as it does when there's a Britney song pounding in my ears and my legs are moving at speeds I didn't think possible, with resistance I didn't know they could take. 

Aside from the fact that I love the 21-year-old-in-a-nightclub-atmosphere, I sweat it out, pound it out, dig deep and grind away.

I am leaving those classes feeling balanced in a way that yoga hasn't given me yet...in a way that running never did...my experience with it as a novice is that I'm not competing, I'm not training, I'm not doing it because it's what I know and it's easy. 

I'm just 21 again, dancing til I sweat, having the time of my life. 

What a way to end a day.