Dead Legs

I've been in constant pain for about thirteen years, courtesy of my years spent kneeling in airplane bellies loading luggage for Air Canada.  The pain started in my neck, spent a few years exploring my back, and eventually migrated to my left hip.  It's not crippling pain, but if I spend more than fifteen minutes sitting down on a hard surface, it's hard to concentrate on anything else.  I've gone through four physiotherapists, two acupuncturists, a neurologist, and two chiropractors.  About six years ago, I gave up and decided to just live with it.  The only thing that seems to help is doing yoga.  I ordered a couple of yoga DVDs about a year ago, and whenever I do the beginner one, I'm almost pain free for hours at a time.  Two days ago, I decided it was time to graduate to the intermediate DVD.  This one involves far less gentle stretching with deep breathing, and a lot more flopping around gasping for breath as I try to keep an eye on the demonstration while strangling myself with my ankles.  My legs have been so sore for the past two days that I haven't even noticed any hip pain.  Probably not the best time to take a tango lesson.

Our instructor was Enriqueta Kleinman, who had taught my Special Lady Friend a few months ago when she was in Calgary.  Jen really wants to tango when she gets here in February, so we figured it would be best to take lessons from the same teacher.  Enriqueta ushered Steph, Johnny, and I into the studio and told us we should put on our tango shoes so the lesson could start.  Uh . . . . tango shoes?  "You mean, you've never tangoed before?"  The lesson plan was revised, and we spent the first part of the hour practicing walking in time to the music.  It's not so easy to move your feet to the beat of music with NO PERCUSSION, especially for those of us with dead ears and screaming hamstrings.  After several laps around the studio, we paired off for some basic steps.  I tried to ignore Enriqueta's body crushed against mine, her eyes boring into my soul, and just focused on not breaking her toes or driving into a wall.  She tried to throw me off my game with double entendres ("Not such long steps!  You are too big for a woman to take!"), but I managed to make it through the hour without drawing blood.  I even signed up for a second lesson.