Summer Dancesport Challenge

(That's my body - my one claim to fame - used three years in a row.)

I realized yesterday that I never talk about dance (other than teaching), which is really strange because it's been such a huge part of my life for a good nine years, minus a two year break in between.  Here's a mini dance bio:

Lara Mackenzie Nelson

-19 years old

-On BYU's Back-Up Touring ballroom team

-Four years ballet and five years ballroom experience

-One year dance instructor to a great group of kids

There.

I was going to blog last night after my competition (because I compete), but after raking through my matted/glued hair, taking a shower, washing my hair twice, soaking in a hot bath tub, scrubbing my face raw because of all the caked-on nasty makeup and tanning lotion, coating myself in coconut oil, and rubbing my aching feet... well, I was just too tired (see picture below). 

Really. I was exhausted (but clean at that point).

(I kind of hate how I look better caked in makeup. Gah, whatever.  By the way, I was wearing Ryan's Eduardo Dressler shirt he was going to toss before I rescued it.  I've always loved wearing huge sweaters  - especially stolen from Ryan's closet - and now I'm discovering how much I love men's dress shirts worn with a belt.  Finally, a look on myself that I actually like! My poor future husband is going to hate me someday.)

We competed novice Latin in the afternoon, which went just terribly (I kept messing up).  I even called Matt and told him all about how I don't like competing, which he understood (thus the phone call).  (Poor Matt always gets to hear my whining.)  We only made it to quarter-finals when we hoped to make it to semi-finals or even (crossing our fingers) finals. Honestly, we could have made it to finals if we danced the way we did later.

If you know BYU's campus, you know that the HFAC (not HVAC) is basically always quiet and always empty, except for the piano music which can be heard from just about every room.  So, naturally I left the (then depressing) Wilk and headed over, found myself a leather seat on the second floor right next to a door where some boy was playing some beautiful piano music, and fell asleep.  I am always happier when I sleep.  I just love sleep.  Except for when I wake up and my head is stuck to the leather seat because of the gel and hairspray that is gluing my hair to my head.  That was less than fun (think of ripping a ban-aid off).  But back in the Wilk Ben (sweetheart) chased me down and had his friend give me a back massage which led to an arm, shoulder, hand, and jaw massage for an hour+.  Keep in mind that this girl was a complete stranger.  Yeah, that was really great (except that my back was bruised from going down the free-fall slide at 7 Peaks over and over the day before).  

God bless strangers who love to give massages.

But then we had to compete again, and I really, really, really didn't want to get back onto that floor. I was done.  DONE.  This time Ben and I didn't try to pump ourselves up for the experience.  Actually, we hardly talked and basically didn't warm up at all before going out onto that floor, and we had much stiffer competition.  And you know what happened?  We danced our three dances (samba, rumba, paso doble) really well, and each round after that we got better and better.  And you know what else?  It was fun.  It was just so much more relaxed and we got in the zone, so we didn't care about making it past more rounds, we just cared that we danced to the best of our abilities.  It just worked, which is kind of a big deal after how we danced earlier that day.  We danced three out of the four rounds, making semi-finals.  Okay, that doesn't sound like much, but Ben and I have only been dancing together a month, and we have both only competed Latin once (I only practiced for two hours total the first time) and the only people who beat us practiced at least twice as much as us, and had been competing two to three times longer than us.  It's a good start.  We're not fantastic Latin dancers (standard is more our thing) but given some time we could be. Well, if we choose to.

Moral of the story: stick with it - I'm gad we did.

After the competition (thus the smile).
What a hunk. :)

- - - 

Keri came and watched the novice competition (rumba and samba), that doll.  Unfortunately she caught our worst round, but Mom really wanted to see so I put it up anyway.  Like I said, pre-champ was sooo much better.  No judging, okay?  Someday I'll put up my standard videos, and then you won't think I suck as badly. (Me, not him. Ben's great.)  Oh, but please appreciate the goof in the samba. I give permission to laugh, because I definitely did while on the floor. How I ended up facing him when I wasn't supposed to is still a mystery.  Haha. :)

- - - 

On a related note: Keri and I are moving to different apartments.

We have two more days together.

We have plans to get Awful Waffles before we leave, and when we get back from our home towns.

We also have plans to make a fort in the living room, because we just can't get enough sleep overs.

We're also going to have lunch together every week after we move out.

And sleepovers at my house because I'll have my own room.

And we're going to meet at Awful Waffle a lot.

I'm going to miss all the late-night giggling-jumping-on-the-bed-screaming-even-though-Lexy-is-asleep-in-the-next-room-playing-"real-or-fake"-and-eating-all-the-time stuff. 

I miss you already, Ker Bear.