Moving, Keep on Moving

(Why yes, I do intend to keep using song lyrics to give you earworms* with my posts...)

The last two weeks have been among the most continuously and vigorously mobile of my life since putting down the stick (yes, even including Edinburgh, and all the hills).

1. Cycling (nearly) every day
   
   This is going curiously well. Ever since I just said to myself "it’s the quickest way to get anywhere in Cambridge" I’ve been back on the old pedals with a vengeance. It’s now just how I get to work, go see friends, go to (Cambridge) gigs (that I’m not running), and I may just put some time aside a do a Proper Bike Ride out to somewhere like Grantchester or to wherever people do Proper Bike Rides round these parts. With a picnic. Or a pub at one or other end of the journey.
   
   Why it currently feels great:
   1. I’ve built up the leg strength/ lung capacity/ sheer stubbornness to the point where it’s not just a struggle in the name of fitness - I can move fast and (reasonably) confidently, and it’s closer to second nature now.
      
      (In other words: I don’t notice I’m cycling so much.)
   
   
   
   2. My legs feel stronger, and my lungs feel bigger - I’m enjoying that sensation of pulling great gulps of air into me and not choking on them.
   
   
   
   3. My asthma is curiously good for this time of year, considering that all the trees are currently mating like fury...
   
   
   
   4. I’m feeling more comfortable in my body, taking it increasingly for granted that I’ll be able to lift the bike, that my arms are competent, my sense of balance good, my timing efficient. I’m enjoying more time in the top gear...! :D
   
   
   Moving fast around Cambridge is a real boon, especially this time of year! :)
   
   Things I need to improve on:
   
   
   1. I’m still carrying too much stuff. This has long been a Problem of Fay - when I was four years old, I used to insist on taking my little canvas bag with my wellies in it, and my little umbrella, “just in case”. Growing up in Cardiff, you learn to take both sunglasses and umbrella/ waterproofs with you every day (or, presumably, get good at not caring about squinting/ personal dampness).
      
      So yeah: smaller amounts of/ lighter stuff in the saddlebags. I’m working on it, and it appears to be getting slowly better, as habits go... :)
   
   
   
   2. Confidence at speed - I’m improving, but I do still brake far more for corners/ downhill than other people around me. I lose too much momentum and then have to work harder to get back up to speed. Maybe that’s good for fitness/ strength, but it feels a bit rubbish.
   
   
   
   3. Standing up to it - I am really static on the seat. I currently lack the confidence to stand and push gravity to my advantage on kick-off/ annoying hills (yes, there are inclines in Cambridge (not many - let’s face it, I’m only using 3-4 gears in most journeys).
   
   
   
   4. Choosing to cycle - I’m not sure what I can do about this. I’m still fairly reliant on cars. I keep having to stop (mostly at the weekend) and say: no, you don’t need the car/ a taxi - you’re not carrying gig gear; behold the two-wheeled chariot...!
   
   
   
2. Dancing some

I appear to have found a bit of a spiritual home in Q Club. It may have been the final thing that was needed to make this place the home of my whole heart. While I was there Milton Keynes never had a Clwb Ifor Bach or Metro’s (at least not for long - I heard a lot of stories about how Bar Central was the business, but only got to go the twice, just before it closed - I breathed other people’s second-hand nostalgia, which wasn’t quite enough...). With Q Club, however, everyone I’ve gone to with it so far hasn’t been there in years (except to goth it up, occasionally) to pogo their socks off, and so we’ve strolled onto a relatively empty but very friendly dancefloor with camo netting, distorted mirrors, excellent tracklists and room to breathe (and flail, and jump, and shimmy).

We’ve all liked it so much so far that we’re talking about making it a Regular Thing.

Why it currently feels great:


1. I CAN FUCKING DANCE!



2. Okay, look - if you’ve never lost something, you don’t know just how brain-, heart-, and soul-breakingly amazing it is to get it back.



3. I can keep going for hours. Put me on a treadmill and I’m all "Oh God, is it only 6 minutes already, kill me now," play some bouncy music and dim the lights and KAZAMMM! for hours. Literally.



4. I’ve worked out how to do it without breaking myself like last time.



5. It’s social and exercise and creative, and there are only a few things you can say that about.



6. I have proved to myself that I am neither too old nor too unfit to go clubbing (given the right club and the right music and the right preparation.
Things I need to improve on:


1. Eating the right food the right amount of time beforehand. Too little/ too far beforehand - flagging. Too much/ too soon beforehand - indigestion.



2. Stretching afterwards and drinking all the water - it made such a difference this last time. Slightly achey calves and a slightly sore neck - compared with the previous time’s "dear deities, there is not one single muscle that doesn’t burn like the pit of hell", that’s nothing.



3. Resting sitting down, not standing up - purely a question of assertion or pushing through with the dancing...

And that’s it, really!

*

Terpsichor - The Reckoning

So I made a resolution way back at the beginning of this blog to aim for a proper night out dancing. And managed to avoid it. You know the kind of chatter: oh, I need to be ready, there needs to be preparation and planning and a whole big thing before I could possibly...

Tedious.

Yesterday I took part in a really great gig and left early, having performed already and supported my friends, in order to enjoy more energy and a reasonably early finish to the day after a fair amount of low sleep levels.

And yet. I found myself full of a certain confidence and up-ness renowned among performers and people who hang around performers. Basically: I wanted this party in my bloodstream to keep going, so texted a couple of people to ask if they wanted to go out dancing. One said yes, and so we found ourselves on the sweaty, sticky, unsprung floor of the Q Club in Cambridge (and later watching exquisite performance art at The Junction, but that's a different story) a little after midnight.

When other people say "I dance like me dad" they probably mean something different to what I mean. My parents used to talk about how they were renowned for tearing up dancefloors in their youth. Even allowing for nostalgia's magnifying glass, I've seen my dad dancing at weddings, and he and my mother must have ben terrifying in their prime.

"No wonder you buggered your knees," said my dancing partner, "you dance like a maniac."

This was the first time since putting down the stick that I'd danced properly and at length, and it was to a string of 90s hits, so my body was remembering when it didn't hurt, and when strangers used to come up to me in clubs and call me a legend. Only one person last night, a total stranger trading compliments, knew what was really happening: I was actually holding back, if anything...

I managed to dance for about 90% of our time there, so a good 90 minutes, at least (we set out late, what can I say?). I overheated, did my equivalent of sweating profusely, and nearly elbowed several people in the face, apparently. My hair became a fuzzball of unstoppable magnitude. And I felt fantastic.

Yes, my Particularly Borked Knee buckled and stabbed me towards the end. Yes, there is not a single muscle group in my body that doesn't ache vengefully right now. Yes, my neck and knees are making nasty noises, both literal and mental, but I regret NOTHING except, perhaps, waiting until now. I've had the best (if the latest) night's sleep in a long time.

So it turns out that I can still dance (I don't know if it's any good, but I know I enjoy it), have more aerobic stamina than I thought I did, and can hold my own at a club (they don't stink of smoke anymore - isn't that brilliant?!).

Oh, and I still know all the words to Parklife.