I nod my head and pick up my phone to flick through my setlist of music tracks. “Yeah, it’s all sorted. Don’t worry.”
“Who was he?”
“He—”
“Whoever he was…” pipes up a young woman in the second row, wearing a cute athletic, tennis-like skirt and matching coloured sports bra. “He can peer throughmywindow and watch me anytime he wants.”
A titter flies up from the women around her.
I say nothing more on the matter, pushing him out of my mind while smiling politely with a fake huff of laughter coming from my nose to let her know I heard.
“Great job today, ladies,” I praise, turning the volume down on the speaker until the catchy music track disappears, replaced with the audible sound of laboured breathing. “Are we all ready for a cool down?”
A chorus of nods and “yes, please” answers my question. The heels which are worn in my dance class are kicked off, groans slipping past lips as the girls flatten the soles of their aching feet to the pleasurably cold floor.
“God, that feels good,” sighs Melinda, a woman whose been attending my classes for the past year and a half.
I laugh, sliding my feet out of my own pair of shiny black stilettos and peering down to watch the wiggle of my toes. I could really do with a fresh pedicure – the red gel polish I picked out last time almost fully grown out – but I think my bank account would vehemently disagree.
“If your feet are still sore and aching when you get home, I’d recommend soaking them in warm water, not too hot, not too cold, maybe with a sprinkle of Epsom salts in the water if you have some on hand and then giving yourself a nice foot massage before bed.” I explain my usual go-to routine for the handful of sweaty new faces who’ve only just joined my dance class. “Getting the blood flowing should help with the constant ache and over time you’ll come to feel less pain as you build up the tender muscle.”
Bending my knees, I get myself comfortable sitting on the studio floor, the soles of my feet pressing together to allow my thighs to fall open.
“Come on down to the floor and I’ll show you how to work out the knots in your feet. Don’t forget to drink some water too; your hydration is super important! Plus, I don’t want any fainters on my hands.”
A woman in the back chokes with nervous laughter on her mouthful of water.
With the pleasurable sense of adrenaline and achievement running through me, which I always get after I’ve finished teaching. It’s not just the dancing part of my classes that work out your body, mind, and get a fresh rush of blood flowing through your veins. It’s also the series of cool down stretches, pushing the girls to their limits with just the simplest of floor work moves.
When I stand tall and direct the group of women in front of me to do the same, hands down by their sides, relaxed, I see a few of them stand taller than they had before they’d set foot inside my dance studio.
I can’t hold back my grin.
“How are we feeling after that? Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle?”
“Good,” chirps one woman.
“Way better than I did this morning,” says another.
My smile only grows, my heart swelling with pride.
“Brilliant, ladies! That’s exactly what I like to hear!” I clasp my hands together and rest them beneath my chin. “So, I have another class next week, Tuesday, 6 p.m., if you’d like to get involved. I hope to see you there. All you have to do is book through the gym website and that will secure your spot! If you’re new, I’d also like to mention the other class I offer. It’s a meditation class, focusing on bringing your body and breath together and we dabble in a bit of chakra work too, so if that’s something you’d be interested in attending, the sign-up sheet is also under the ‘classes’ portion of the gym website.”
I cross the floor to throw open the windows and allow in a flow of fresh January air while my class packs up for the day, zipping up their gym bags and shrugging on their thick winter coats.
A quick flick of my wrist to check the time on my watch lets me know I have about thirty minutes before my next dance classis set to arrive. I’ve got just enough time to pop downstairs for a smoothie and a protein bar to nibble on to hopefully quell the sounds of my rumbling stomach.
Dragging a pair of tracksuit bottoms over my skin-tight dance shorts, I slip my own feet into a pair of fluffy sliders, shove my phone into my pocket and grab the key to lock up the studio. I follow the crowd of women frothing out into the corridor, heading towards the main area of the gym.
“Thanks for today’s class, Giselle.” A busty blonde around my age smiles softly at me. “I’ve really noticed a difference in my body confidence since I started attending your classes. It’s changed my life for the better.”
I give the blonde’s arm a squeeze as my heart soars.
“It’s Calla, isn’t it?”
She nods.
“I’m so glad my classes have helped boost your self-esteem, Calla. That’s exactly why I created them and why I’m so passionate about my job and the people I meet along the way. Thank you for being on that journey with me.”
