a feis! the third episode

Today was my third feis (Irish dance competition, for those of you who don't know they ways of the Irish). And like always, it was nerve-racking, emotionally trying, scary, somewhat painful (hi shin splints!), and exhausting. Oh, and did I mention really really fun?

Every feis I've been to is the same (can I say "every" if I've only been to 3?); there's a ton of excitement and build-up beforehand and I can't wait. And then the day of the feis arrives, and I start to wonder why I thought a dance competition was a good idea. And then I get there and watch the other dancers and I KNOW it wasn't a good idea. Suddenly everyone looks better than me. Their toes are more pointed, their legs more crossed, and their steps more precise. How I can I possibly compete with such perfection?!

When it's finally time for me to hop on the stage and dance, I'm pumping full of adrenaline, my legs are shaking, and I'm desperately trying to remember my steps. The first dance is terrifying and usually includes at least 1 sketchy moment. After that, my nerves come and go in waves. For a few moments, I don't care how I do, then I'm mortified that I messed up, then I start panicking about the next dance. And then I remember that more than anything else, Irish dance is fun. I dance because I love it. Sure, getting medals and advancing is nice, but if it isn't fun, why do it?

And once I remember that, everything is better. The nerves are still there, of course (I hope the judge didn't notice the trembling in my calves), but I no longer have the desire to sit in a heap and cry (it's funny how such spectrum of emotions can do that to you). Medals don't matter- having fun does.

But incidentally, I did quite well. I medalled in 5 of my 6 dances and only really messed up once. Hurrah! Next feis: June 2010.