When I get to modern class early, which is always, I stretch and warm up a bit in the changing room. The door to the studio is open and there’s a ballet class going on inside. I usually get there in time to watch the allegro.
There’s a girl in that ballet class, or a woman, since I suspect she looks younger than she is, who also takes modern with us afterwards. I always make a point of watching her jump. The reason for this is simple: her power level is over 9000. Her midichlorians are off the charts. All your base are belong to her. Her theme song is Defying Gravity. Her patronus is a rubber ball. The sound she should be making is sproing. Her jumping is out of this world, and out of this world is where she would end up if she jumped any higher.
This is still an adult beginner class and I’m sure a professional dancer would outjump this girl, whose name I don’t know. But in that class, the difference between her and the others is staggering. Her jumps are not only high, they look effortless and her technique is superb. During echappés and assemblés, her legs snap out and in with incredible speed and precision. She also appears weightless on top of the jump. This, to the extent of my knowledge, is called ballon in the ballet lingo (i.e. le français).
Credit where credit is due: she takes several classes a week and has been doing it for a while now. Still, her superiority in other steps is not quite as obvious. What is obvious is another factor that influences her jumps: her build. She is quite small and curvy and she has enormous thighs. Her quadriceps bulges off her legs in a way that I couldn’t achieve on steroids. Her glutes (ahem) are magnificent (and I’m ever so sorry for creeping). I find many kinds of bodies beautiful and well-muscled ones are always a feast for the eyes, especially in motion. I’m sure it must be near impossible to find fitting jeans for those legs. She was probably self-conscious about those thighs at some point. But damn, her jumps are just amazing.
Having been endowed with a figure that morphs seamlessly from slim to shapeless without going through true curviness at any point at all, I have to say I envy her a little. I’m all for body acceptance and I quite like mine but watching her jump makes me sigh every time.
All of this, of course, would be an incredibly creepy thing to say to a classmate you don’t know at all. I had already complimented her jumps a couple of months ago, but I was so amazed again that I decided to risk creeping her the hell out and told her again, and in some detail, just how good her jumps looked.
And she wasn’t creeped out – she was very flattered and smiled a lot and said that she might be a good jumper but she can’t do pirouettes. To which I answered, «Well, who can, really?»
(Well, technically, I can. But only when the blue moon falls on a month of Sundays, all the planets are aligned and the underworld of your choice is experiencing a particularly bad blizzard. Flying pigs also help.)