Not me. Well…truthfully I would love to be able to bust out a fox trot or a waltz. Who doesn’t aspire to be graceful? Sadly my days where I could’ve danced, danced, danced (all night) never were.
Sorry, I don’t dance (don’t ask me). More specifically, I’m not good at dancing. With the exception of the signature family (gopher inspired) dance move (Dad)…that one I can rock out.
I know, I know, if I just dance (gonna be okay), practiced, stopped over-thinking it, let yourself go (relax), etc. etc. etc. I’ve heard it all and I’ve come up with my own arsenal of retorts.
I’m not alone. Some of us, just lack that grace gene, and now science has given us the ultimate excuse…I mean explanation:
My brain won’t let me. To put it more technically (chemically speaking)–an excess of GABA (gamma-aminobutyric acid) in my brain inhibits my ability to shake my groove thing (yeah, yeah).
Think of all the years and breath we’ve wasted with sad (and probably slightly sexist and/or racist) excuses for our two left feet.
What can I say? It’s science.
True, there are still plenty of people out there who can dance if they want to (they can leave their friends behind)…but every group needs that beautifully awkward dancer…right?
“Can’t Dance? Brain Chemical Throws Off Your Groove”: MSNBC
…can’t, won’t, shouldn’t…but I do love watching the talented ones.
Please leave lots of patronizing “You can dance Stephanie” comments below…I appreciate the kind white lies
Every other Wednesday I develop a terrible habit. In its simplest form it can be described as clock watching.
I can’t help it, I have to watch almost every second pass, make sure I didn’t miss any. It’s ridiculous.
It’s also not what you think. Unless of course you too have “tempo” runs every other Wednesday.
Let me explain. In my running schedule Wednesdays are on a rotating schedule. This week it’s “tempo,” next week it will be (insert # here) repetitions of 400 meter pace running. Sounds exciting, I know.
Anyways, a tempo run is pretty much what it sounds like. You vary your pace for given time intervals during the run. Today I chose to divide my 40 minute tempo run into 15-10-15.
In theory this would mean I’d go my standard pace for the first and last 15 minutes of the run, and push myself during the middle ten.
In reality I have one speed and it’s forward. Yes, I can push myself to go faster, but my control of my pace cannot be controlled.
Therefore, I become a clock watcher. You know those runners who look down at their wrist as you pass them.
That’s me, just praying that somehow ten minutes have passed in the last ten feet (I have my slow days).
This right here is the answer to that question that I’ve been asked many times, “Why don’t you wear a watch when you run?” It’s for the health of my neck.
Coincidentally, that’s also one of the reasons why I don’t run with an Ipod…but that’s another story for another day and another blog.
a couple of lessons in rhythm…and the lack thereof