I Rock

I'm feeling pleasantly buzzed right now. And I haven't even had one of David's famous lemonade martinis!

I just taught my Nia class, which I do every Friday. But today was a real high because I taught my first two Nia teachers, neither of whom had ever taken a class with me before.

I had been tipped off that Marguerite, the black belt who used to teach every single day of the week at the place I teach now (including my class) would be there, and it made sense because she's in town to do a workshop (she lives in Yosemite now.) It was flattering to contemplate, and also nerve-wracking. What would it be like to switch places with her in the same room she's taught me hundreds of times?

When I rounded the corner to the YMCA entrance this afternoon, I had a heady sensation of celebrity. I saw Marguerite, and another teacher, and then I spotted Claudine, who taught the very first class I ever took, in 2002. I remember the routine (I now teach it) and I remember swallowing a very big lump in my throat and blinking back tears because I'd gone over 30 years not knowing that what I did in front of my sliding glass door to Foreigner records as a teenager was legitimate exercise, with a name and everything.

If Claudine was my Nia ambassador, Marguerite was my coach. One time, after a "jam" in which I'd been invited to the front of the room to perform spontaneous choreography to Barry Manilow's "Her Name is Lola," she left me a message on my home phone: "Sam, you are a DANCER." I felt like she gave me permission to think so, for the first time in my life. I have no training, after all. I wasn't one of those little girls picking the wedgie of my black leotard and pink tights, or swinging a velvet bag of beribboned tap shoes from my shoulder. More's the pity, but don't look homeward, angel. It's all about the now.

Claudine moved to Prescott, AZ several years ago. I hadn't seen her in years, and hadn't seen Marguerite in over a year. And here they were, at my class. I was scared, but mostly I was giddy with excitement. I wanted to make them proud. I introduced them with my voice all high and twittery. Hopefully, it was charming instead of creepy.

It didn't hurt that I had a big class today. Students who are MY regulars. I decided to do a routine I know really, really well, and I think that paid off. I don't think I made a single significant mistake. I was on fire (I felt like I had what Shaw calls "superabundant vitality") even though I hardly slept last night and spent the morning entertaining three toddlers in my house. I could not be stopped. And everyone was smiling. And woo-hooing. I love the woo-hooing.

After the relaxation, Marguerite said, "You rock, Sam." And Claudine came up and gave me a big, sweaty hug, and said "I'm all verklempt." Now there's a statement that really means something to my people.

I thought I would be falling-over tired tonight. But I feel so good. Like I'm covered in a cashmere blanket and someone is slipping hot stones under my shoulders. Mmmmm. I hope it will last.