I started dancing late last April—it was planned, like everything else I do, with certain goals in mind. When I hired my personal fitness guru 6 years ago, he asked me what I wanted. “Arms like Linda Hamilton. . .” I replied without hesitation. We laughed, but it has become our battle cry, “To Arms!!” (Like Hooha!) When my college roommate and I started skiing (many, many years ago), we made a pact. Our goal was to beat the mountain and ski for free when we are 70. So whether it’s hiking 200 miles across France, jumping out of an airplane or crossing Mongolia with the herdsmen, I guess the common denominator for me has always been the adrenaline rush. And it’s gotta be fun!
I’ve never been into sports-voyeurism; I just can’t sit still long enough to watch someone else produce all the action.
I first contacted my dance instructor, David Therrell, last spring with a challenge-- Latin dancer by July 7th 2001, the date of my daughter’s wedding to a young man from Madrid. We had a contract with an incredible Latin band, and I wanted to participate in the kinetics of the reception. The wedding turned into a huge fun party that lasted almost a week.
Afterward, when I was experiencing withdrawal symptoms, I realized that I was missing the music, the wiggle and the endorphin release I had had for months from my dance lessons. When I decided to continue, my goal had changed. David jokingly calls it my “dance therapy”. It truly is! In early fall, after a few more lessons, my “therapist” casually suggested that I start learning smooth dances as well as Latin. I wasn’t too excited. But, I was starting to realize something about myself. . . It has been extremely difficult to give up control and learn to “follow”. It requires a huge amount of energy and athleticism to stay balanced and focused on your partner’s lead. And staying a nanosecond behind him requires a lot of trust. Then just when I started to feel good about what I was doing, something as simple as changing my heel size threw the whole balance thing off and required more muscle training. There was certainly a lot more to this dancing than I ever could have imagined. The challenge was there, and when he started talking about the adrenaline rush of competing, my curiosity was piqued. Not that competition was ever on my list of goals. But this is a partnership, and maybe that is how “pro-am” differs. My partner is also my mentor. He needs to push me, and as well as trusting him, I need to respect his experience in the field. I knew from experience that he had been right about the other positive aspects of dance.
David came back from the Yankee Classic (after talking with Tommy Shaughnessy) really jazzed about going to Ireland and of course, since the inside of me is O’Halloran, that sounded like a great place to start. I especially liked the Party aspect. My only concern was the conflict with my annual two week ski trip (remember beating the mountain?). I asked if there wasn’t another month that we could do the competition. I was so new to this that I had no idea that “pro-am” was a foreign concept to the rest of the world. This competition would introduce the American form of dance partnering in Europe. Somehow, the Celtic Classic beat the mountain, and we started to prepare for my first competition. (Somewhere in this timeline, I remembered when I was defining my personal goals about 5 years ago playfully listing “dancing on my toes.” Now we’d added heel leads and chasse and Voila! La Caliente Cha-Cha was off to a competition. What was I thinking?!!)
Because I am such a novice, I was probably too ignorant to be in awe of all the major name competitors and adjudicators. I really just wanted to get the “pro-am” over so we could party and enjoy the rest of the dancers. I was still learning the dances the week before—Matter of fact, we had a seven-hour layover at JFK, and David used part of the time to practice. We found an open area in the terminal outside the security gate and started to dance. We collected an audience of about thirty people at one point and in retrospect should have opened one of our carry-ons for contributions. It was actually fun to be an exhibitionist!
Competition: Brandon Hotel, Tralee, Ireland
Okay, I gave up the exhilaration of the adrenaline as you push off the top of a downhill run; knowing that rush as the icy mountain air whips your face and the feeling of muscles strained to exhaustion after 7 hours on the slopes.
But I discovered the terror of stepping into the unknown on the ballroom floor of a shared warm-up brought its own flavor of adrenaline, just as David had predicted. The strain of muscle memory over primal memory as you try to cha-cha in practice to samba music, (through the gale force breeze on your face left by two 8 year olds rolling by you at 90 miles per hour) left an imprint in my subconscious not unlike the ski run.
The
day of my actual competition arrived with its own share of challenges. Are there any other competitors out there
that feel like those false eyelashes stick out further than ski tips?—I should
have practiced with those things before the competition, too.
The
aura of the competition was awesome. I
did quite well, which surprised me. But
my awards were really secondary to the feeling of accomplishment. I completed the first layer of my goal. I had a hard time knocking the smile off my
face for the serious side of the Tango . . . I just had so much fun!
One
of the nicest perks of the competition was meeting the other pro-am competitors
there. I’m sure that the adventures and
stories we shared have forged a bond of friendship, and we will continue to
cheer for each other.
Once
the pro-am was over we were free to enjoy the rest of the program. I was overwhelmed with the beauty and grace
of the amateur and professional dancing.
The kids were incredible (and enviable). We were sitting right next to the adjudicators, and I was able to
talk with them and absorb some of their insight. Shirley Ballas, Margaret Redmond, Gorin Nordin, Alan Winter,
John Kimmins et.al. became real people through out the competition. That is what made this competition so
special. This is how I was assimilated
into the dance collective. Speaking,
eating, working, and partying with all levels of the dance world were a very
special treat for this newcomer. Their
lectures were inspiring and informative.
Special thanks to Sammy Stopford for his insight and encouragement.
And
the parties were EXTREME!! My kids could not believe I did not go to bed
before 3 am the whole trip!
So
don’t tell Dee, but metaphorically, I did ski the mountain this year and I
loved it! And yes, Tommy, I will be back next year. I don’t know how anything can top Ireland, but I’ve added
Barcelona in 2003, as well as Hong Kong, to my dance calendar.
I’d
like to tell the organizers, Tommy and Ann (another kindred spirit without an
“e”) that you thought of everything.
You made our stay so enjoyable, that I cannot think of a single detail
you missed!! Ann, please remember to
stay off the floor during Riverdance next year. Seriously, I hope your foot healed before we left the
country. We love you!
A
big thank you to Cathy and Gary Jaspersohn for encouragement and friendship—See
you this summer!
Fiona:
Come join us Stateside!
Esther:
I’m sending glow sticks. Be careful not
to swallow them when you dance.
And
John: The souvenir bruises on my left
arm are almost faded. That was a
lead!! Better stick to Riverdance.
Finally,
I’d like to sign off with a “yummy little W.B. Yeats.”
‘I
am of Ireland,
And
the Holy Land of Ireland,
And
time runs on,’ cried she.
‘Come
out of charity,
Come
DANCE with me in Ireland.’
Ann
Banes March 2002