The motivation to write
this blog came earlier today while I was running on the treadmill. Whenever I use the treadmill (which is often
these days as I am usually fitting a run in between conference calls or in the
30-minutes of overlapping naptime), I turn on every possible electronic device I have in an attempt to distract from the fact that I am killing myself and not
actually going anywhere. For those of
you that have run on a treadmill, you can understand this need to distract. Anyway, today there happened to be a cheer
and dance competition on ESPN. It ended
being a great motivator (I ran my butt off and didn’t even realize it since I
was so focused on the tv) but it was also a really awesome reminder of the
many, many years I spent dancing and cheering.
As I was watching the teams
today, I was affected in a couple of ways. First, I actually got adrenaline rushes
thinking about all of the times that I competed or performed in front of an
audience or judges. And, second, I got
emotional thinking about all of the amazing memories that I had with each of
the teams that I was part of. It really
hit me hard when the teams were done performing and the camera panned to the team
crying and hugging, proud of what they had just accomplished (cue, tear).
Some people enjoy the art
of performance, while others dread it. I
am definitely the former. For me, there
is nothing more thrilling than getting up in front of an audience and
performing. I love everything from the
pre-performance jitters to the rush that comes when a routine is completed
flawlessly. I love the dramatic makeup
and dressing up in a costume. I love
catching a judges eye during a performance and feeling the pride when they give
you a little nod and a smile to say “good job”.
I love the acting that comes along with performing and all of the
changing facial expressions (if you have ever seen the range of facial
expressions that my kids have, you could guess who now gets to be the audience
to my “performances”). And, for all
those cheerleaders out there, I LOVE SPIRIT FINGERS. How can anyone not smile at even just the
thought of spirit fingers? (Jazz hands are ok too, but they are no spirit fingers.)
But seriously, to be competitive and to
be part of something physical is such a great experience. A team forces people to bond and work
together. Watching those dance teams
today hug and cry together brought me back in time (circa 1992-2000). When, for at least the few minutes that you
were performing, you forgot about drama and fights or jealousy and competitiveness
and you just did your best to work together.
And, when the team thrived or failed, at least it was as a team. You were never on your own. You were part of something.
Sadly, it has been a long
time since I have performed anything that didn’t involve a power point
presentation and since I have been a part of a team that wasn’t paid to work
together. And, until this morning, I didn’t
realize how much I miss it. I did some
combination of dancing, cheering, and gymnastics from the age of about three to
the age of twenty-one, when I graduated from college. So, I have to wonder, why does it have to
end? Why is it that when we grow up and
go in to the adult world, when we need the confidence and pride of a good
performance and the support and camaraderie of a team more than any other time
in our lives, the opportunity is no longer there? I recognize that a 33-year old mom of 2 might
look pretty ridiculous in a cheerleading uniform with lollipop pants, but maybe
I secretly wish it were possible (and maybe Steve does too, just sayin’). Maybe I wish that there was still a reason to
toilet paper houses the night before Thanksgiving, or to wear a track suit on
the day of big games, or to do toe-touches and hurkies for
every free-throw, or to wear hooker-like eyeliner (aka “stage makeup”) and
sanda-soles. Unfortunately, I can wish all I want,
those days are over. But I will thank
God and all of the awesome people that I have come to know over the years for
every single memory that I have.
So, as I move on to the
next phase in my life where it is now my job to bring my own children to their
practices, competitions, and games, I am excited but sad. And slightly worried about becoming the next mom on Dance Moms (if you haven't watched it yet, you must). But, I guess the answer to my question really
is it ends so it can begin all over again…for someone elseJ Here’s to hoping that my kids have the same
great experiences that I did!
Until next time…
I don’t normally have a
p.s., but I do want to say thank you to my Holy Cross and
Matignon girls and especially my Scalzi family. I know that over the years, I
probably put you all through a lot, so thank you for putting up with me and for
allowing me to look back at some pretty rough years of my life and have such
great memories. Love you all. XOXOXO
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