A New Definition of "Pole Position"

Today I tried a pole dancing class for the first time. I only did it because my friend Jennifer's birthday is today and her idea of a good time was getting her friends together to try something that she's discovered is a great workout and a lot of fun.

OK, I'll give anything a try...once...

I just have to say, it was really, really fun.

One of our party members putting her rock-climbing skills to work on the pole.

At the beginning of the class the instructor -- a beautiful, petite, lythe dark-haired woman in her 20's -- showed us the dance we would be learning. She looked amazing; so graceful. Sensual. Comfortable in her own skin. She did a spin around the pole where she floated above the earth, legs poised in such a way that she looked like she was hardly touching the pole. She showed us the move and had us try it.

She looked like she was floating. We looked like we were on a fireman's pole, spiraling downwards in a deathgrip.

We laughed at ourselves and tried again. We laughed even harder at the second attempt. And by the third, some of us got it. And the rest of us got it on the fourth.

We twisted. Spun. Swiveled. Sweated. Laughed.

We had such a great time.

After the class we celebrated with red velvet cupcakes and wished Jennifer a happy birthday. We took photos after the class in Jennifer's backyard.

Kristin, Rachel, birthday girl Jennifer, me, and Tina (Jennifer's sister)

It was more physically demanding than  it looks. My shoulders hurt, my neck hurts. I don't even want to know what's going to hurt tomorrow morning.

I can now check pole dancing off of my bucket list. Not that it was on in the first place, but now it doesn't have to be. It was so fun I might have to go back and do a couple more classes with Jennifer.