It’s so easy to get discouraged.

Too easy.

Way too easy.

After all, I’m old. (Yes, I’m “only” twenty-three. And I know most of you are rolling your eyes at me right now.) Seriously… for someone just trying to break into the world of professional ballet, I am relatively old. Supposedly past my prime. I’ll be well past twenty-four years old, perhaps even twenty-five by the time I’m at a level where I could realistically audition for companies or shows. And in a world where most of the people who are any good break into the business as a teen – where most professional dancers were obviously talented as children, if not actually child prodigies… some days, I wonder why I even bother trying.

Yeah, I was never one of those dance prodigies as a child. I was never anything particularly special.

And it’s hard. So hard. When I look at photos of friends I knew from dance who are amazing, and making it in the world of ballet, even though they’re years younger than me. I’m nowhere near as great or as beautiful as a dancer as they are. Maybe I never will be… so what makes me think I even have a chance at truly achieving this dream in the way I hope to?

Or when I go to ballets, or watch videos of professional ballerinas. These women are incredible. They dance as naturally as they breathe. How can I think I’ll ever be even a fraction of what they are? That lofty dream is so far out of my reach right now. In my world, that’s the equivalent of aiming for the Nobel Prize. Really? Who am I to think I even have a chance?

Yeah. Right.

But at the same time, I want this. So badly. And there is that part of me that hopes, believes, that if I work hard enough at this… who’s to say I can’t make it? Who’s to say I can’t be world-class amazing… if I work my rear off for this.

Realistically? I’m not the best. I’m nowhere close. And I probably never will be. But I like to think I’m smart enough to know what I need to improve and how to improve it. Not to mention determined enough – I’m already seeing results, and finding I’m able to do things I’ve never been able to do. Ever. Like full-split jetés, and almost-triple pirouettes on my right side.

I’m getting there. Slowly but surely…

Yeah, there are some days where this seems like way too much, days where I don’t believe I have any sort of chance whatsoever. But as hard as it is, I’ll never know whether I can get there or not unless I really truly try…

****

One step forward, one step back.

That’s how this feels, sometimes. I have to push myself, but not so far that I injure myself. I have to pay attention to my body, and hold back sometimes even though I so badly just want to go for it.

My arch… it’s better. Completely. No pain, any more; no sense of weakness. But I’m feeling the shin splints, especially in my left leg. And now my asthma is acting up… I was having the worst time breathing during class today. In fact, I was actually wheezing. And, of course, I forgot to bring my inhaler to class.

Ugh.

One step forward, one step back.

But I can jump now. I mean, really, truly jump. Even with the asthma, although I’m gasping for breath afterward. And not just clomping around like a flightless penguin. I’m actually getting up in the air in both petite and grande allegro, I’m hitting my jumps with precision instead of flailing and flopping around… it’s a good feeling. I’ve always loved jumps.

However, on the topic of balance, I ended up skipping the cycling class today. After this morning’s ballet class, I was so exhausted and so incredibly sore from yesterday’s yoga and ballet classes, I could hardly move. And while a big part of me wanted to go… if I’m to succeed with this dream, I need to pay attention, and know my body. In all likelihood, I would have injured myself if I’d tried to go to the cycling class. But I’ll be back to it tomorrow – ballet in the morning, and definitely going to power yoga in the evening.

Two steps forward, one step back…