10 More Foot Muscles You Didn't Know You Had

Walking to the dance store I had a feeling like today was going to be great. The sun was shining, the cold had retreated just enough that I was comfortable with my jacket unzipped (still wearing my écharpe though, we must remain civilized).

I stopped at the bank along the way to pick up my new bank card. After 1.5 years in Switzerland I still hadn't succeeded in opening a bank account. I was laughed at, lied to, given paperwork and false hope. In France it took one try. I went into the bank, I got an account. That easy.

The dance store was filled with experts. Four of them for one of me. They got me all set up for my first class and showed me how to stitch the élastique on my chaussons. The woman who rang me up (with a 10% discount, might I add) walked me to the door and wished me luck. Smiling like a fool, I walked on to the dance school. While crossing a bridge by the Louvre I was passed by two policemen on rollerblades (the first of at least 10 people I saw on rollerblades today, I can not get enough of this city). I walked down by the Seine as long as I could before turning toward the school.

Once at the front desk, signing up for the class was straightforward. The school was in a cute little courtyard in an exciting district. Afterwards I walked by the Centre Pompidou and even listened to a few people from Greenpeace asking for monthly donations (I normally run away from those people as fast as I possibly can). I had a latte in a Costa while getting a bit of work done, then took the métro to the climbing gym.

After climbing I picked up some avocados (I am all about avocados these days, they are freaking tasty) and headed back toward the métro to go home. My ticket wasn't working and before I could figure out what was wrong, the woman entering the turnstile next to me had pushed one of her tickets into my hand, "tiens!"

1st position? I would soon learn, no

At home I made some dinner and got excited for my dance class. Maybe I took a few selfies with my chaussons, maybe I didn't. That's for me (and the NSA) to know. When it was time to leave I put my dance stuff in a bag and headed for the Vélib station outside my apartment. I biked leisurely about 20 minutes to the studio, where I easily found a free Vélib station to park the bike.

I went to reception to ask where the class would be held. The man there directed me where to go and told me that the locations are normally posted in the vestiaire. As I was walking out he yelled, "attends!" and gave me a coupon for a free spa day (what?!?? I've never been to a spa) "because I have a nice face" (naturellement en français).

Throughout the class we all played musical Evian bottles and were verbally abused by an impressively flexible aging woman. At one point she pretended to hang herself with a sweatshirt when one of the men in the class got the choreography wrong. It was marketed as a class for "débutants" but either I'm naturally horrible at dancing or the other students had been doing it for a while. As with most things, the truth probably lies somewhere between the two.

I can lift my leg about a foot off the ground at most when it and my body stay straight. I can stand on my toes for about 15 seconds until my calves start seizing. 3 moves in a row is already way too many for me to remember.

At several points during the class I remember thinking, I am so bad at this it's an insult to the art for me to continue. Just as I would finally start to get the hang of one exercise we would move on to something equally difficult and confusing. By the end of class my legs felt like they had been run through a meat grinder. Just standing was painful, not to mention prancing around on my toes.

On the bike ride home I laughed about how terrible I was. Normally if I'm not good at something naturally I give up and try something else. But lately I've been realizing that even though this makes me really good at the things I'm good at, it also makes me really bad at the things I'm bad at. So I've been seeking out activities that push me out of my comfort zone, like learning to play the guitar. Anyway I'm determined to stick with this ballet thing until the teacher asks me to stop. And then I'll find another teacher.

I hope you guys are living your dreams because I certainly am and let me just tell you it is amazing. The world is so huge and diverse there's no reason you can't find something that makes you happy.

au bord de la Seine