But for the most part, the summer was pure magic for us — and I’ve never been happier or more in love.
And as much as I love work, and love him, there’s a special kind of love I hold for this place — my pole studio — where I can get out of my head and fully into my body, where I can challenge myself and continually be humbled and find a way to rise again.
“That combo is fucking sick,” Leona says when both my feet are on the hardwood floor again. She’s a younger student, a perky, curvy little thing with pixie short hair and more tattoos on her pale skin than anyone I’ve ever known in my life.
I bend over and grab my knees, panting, chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. “Thanks,” I say with a smile.
“Seriously, how the hell do you bend like that? And the Iron X… I’ll never be able to do that.” She shakes her head, wrapping both hands around her own pole and staring up at it like it’s both the only thing she’s ever loved, and her biggest enemy.
It kind of fits, to be honest.
“You will,” I assure her. “Trust me. I’ve been doing this for four years now, off and on, and everything I can do now felt impossible to me at one point or another. Just keep working,” I say. “I promise, you’re stronger than you realize.”
Leona smiles and nods at me in thanks, and then she’s climbing up the pole again, working a layback combo I remember being a bitch to conquer myself when I was in my intermediate stage.
Leona is just one of the students I’ve come to love at the studio. From taking classes and attending almost every open pole practice, the girls here have become like family. Now that I’ve started to compete again, I’ve even roomed with some of them at competitions and conventions, and I’ve been both challenged and inspired by every single woman here.
“Has Karen convinced you to come on as a teacher yet?” one of the other girls chimes in from the back. “Because I’m dying to take a class with you.”
I smirk, grabbing my water bottle from the cubbies on the far wall and taking a big swig. “Not yet, but she’s getting close.”
That earns a few gasps and excited claps from the room.
“Oh, my God, please, Lei!”
“I NEED to learn from you.”
“Can you do a dance class? Your flow is insane!”
I laugh and hold up my hands to calm them all. “I’m still thinking on it. My big girl job is pretty demanding, and this is where I come to release. I don’t want to lose that.”
Silence falls over them before Leona says, “That’s fair. But if you ever do decide to teach, I’ll be the first one to sign up.”
There’s a chorus of agreement that makes me flush, and then the girls are all back to climbing and practicing their tricks.
I grab the bottle of Dry Hands out of my bag and squeeze a small amount in one palm, rubbing my hands together with my eyes on the pole as I debate what I want to work next. I’m nice and warm, and after nailing that last combo, all I can think about is that I’m ready to work my nemesis.
Bird of Paradise.
The twisty move is an absolute freak of nature, and one that my body hasn’t particularly loved since I started training it over the summer.
It’s an outside leg hang variation where you wrap your inside arm around the front of your inside leg, that’s extended toward your face, by the way, and wrap your outside arm around the pole to grab that inside hand. Then, when you’ve got that bitch of a back breaking twist achieved, you release the outside leg and extend it back in a split, balancing everything while you hold on in this anatomy-defying pose.
All while upside down.
And spinning.
No big deal…
I first saw the move at a competition back when I competed for Leslie’s studio, and I remember how loud the crowd cheered when the girl did it, how much my jaw dropped, how furious my little voice was in my head.
I have to do that move!
I didn’t realize how much went into it, how flexibility and strength training had to combine for it to be achieved.
But I’ve been working tirelessly at it for almost a year now, and particularly hard over the summer.
Maybe today’s the day…
I clap my hands together one last time, making sure the Dry Hands is sticky and ready to go, and then I launch myself at the pole.
Gripping tight, I power climb up, using only my hands and bicep muscles, legs swinging out behind me. When I’m up three climbs, I hold a pencil pose, body in line with the pole, and then tuck the chrome into my armpit and lift my legs up and over my head.