The big news for the week: I made my triumphant return to dance class. Okay, maybe not so triumphant. It was a jazz class with my favorite-ever teacher... the exact class where I first blew my knee. I was confident going in, and thanks to my faithful yoga practice I actually held my own and felt like I haven't lost too much ability. It felt great, it probably looked okay, and I was able to keep myself fairly low-profile since it was a small class full of people I don't know. Perhaps the biggest triumph of the entire ordeal was that I could walk the next morning!
The euphoria was short-lived and probably almost entirely founded upon adrenaline. Yesterday I went back to class, running into several girls I danced with at school, as well as two girls from the company I danced with. Furthermore, the 'cliquey' nature of dance ensured that those who had seen me in class on Tuesday had done a lot of talking and investigating on their parts, so everyone knew my situation. With the cat out of the bag, I went back to feeling fat, slow, unflexible, and a quitter. All adrenaline gone, I was able to realize during this second class back that my knee probably has a fairly major arthritis problem, and I've been in pain ever since.
Do I chalk this up to a failure? Certainly not. I got over a major fear that has been haunting me; since the initial injury in February 2007, I've been through physical therapy, surgery, more therapy, a return to dance, and a re-injury in August. Since August I've been living in denial about my need to return to class, and I've finally gotten over it! I feel rather elated, and I'm also glad that this is going to give me a sense of routine to my weeks. Two dance classes, three yoga classes, and two big workouts at the gym give me something to write in my planner for every day.
And now, back to the waiting game...