I used to be the most clumsy clod on the planet. I have hypermobility syndrome, which tends to bork your kinesthetic awareness (translation: I tend to have no clue where my arms/legs are, and thus they constantly get smashed into things and trip over themselves). I used to tragically (or epically, depending on your viewpoint) faceplant all the time. Heck, once I banged my shin into my bedframe and managed to somehow fracture my shin without noticing… until it occurred to me that I had a bruise for over a year with a raised lump underneath. Whoops.
So, am I about to tell you how ballet has transformed me into a graceful princess? HAH! *snort* No, instead I’ll give you an example of how becoming a ballerina has marginally improved my ability to avoid being injured.
Today I was walking back to the dog groomer to pick up my super adorbs corgi, when suddenly, an uneven portion of pavement at the juncture of a curb LEAPT out and attacked me! My foot tipped, my ankle gave, and the curb was sailing toward my face! It was certain doom! Then, miraculously, my ankle righted itself, my core tightened, and my knees pliéd like a smooth, well-oiled machine! My arms flew out to a shoddy, half-arsed first position, and my palms just barely kissed the concrete. I then stretched out of what looked exceptionally like a grand plié, standing straight and tall. The two shocked men chatting at the newsstand actually clapped.
And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why I do ballet.
… ok, one of the many reasons.