LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

Category: Pole Dancing

Pole Update – Doubles

Alternative title: The only thing more terrifying than me putting my faith in my thighs to stop me flying down a pole and cracking my chin off my arse (because I’m sure that’s what happens when you manage to concertina your body) is putting my faith in my thighs to stop me flying down a pole and cracking my arse off my Pole partner’s chin (and subsequently managing to concertina both bodies in a random smush of H&M sportswear and Nike short-shorts). 

In the words of Placebo* (any excuse for a Brian moment): “someone call the ambulance, there’s gonna be an accident!”

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Pole Update – Skater Pose

**For the squeamish types – I’ll be talking (briefly) about Periods and botty troubles**

Alternative title: Mother Nature has blessed me with a period cramp of such epic proportions that I fear even trusting a fart would be a disaster (please tell me I am not the only one who deals with potential botty blow outs when it’s that time of the month? I’m sure period squits is a thing), so what the devil was I thinking walking into the Pole Studio?!

Well …

“Screw you Mother Nature” is pretty darned close.

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Rise of the Pole Dancer

Alternative title: New Instructor, New Moves, Same Ole Ruebi? … Judging by the amount of times I’ve shrieked “I have a flapjack wedgie” and “well, I don’t need to shave there anytime soon” I can safely say that yes, I’m the same ole Ruebi … And yes, front wedgies are as painful as they sound!  

My hands are blistering, my thighs are burning and I feel dizzy from the spins but the anger I felt pre-class has dissipated and what remains is a mixture of contentment and respect. Pole Dancing isn’t just a sport for me, it’s part of my therapy – It pushes me outside of my comfort zone in a manner that gives me control over the Anxiety and Depression, it allows me to vent frustration/anger in positive ways, it shows me how strong my body and mind are and it allows me to interact with an amazing group of supportive and body positive women.

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Pole Dancing

Alternative Title: The last time I tried pole dancing I was in a dodgy little nightclub that was decorated in a cheap beach theme (imagine if Blue Peter were given an unlimited supply of bog rolls, paint and glitter …and were then asked to recreate a canal scene complete with shopping trollies and bags of floating dog turds – really focus on that image, got it? That’s the club!)… I was also pissed as a fart…


The week leading up to Pole Dancing I had a “wonderful” gurgling mix of excitement and anxiety which when combined with period cramp (because everyone wants to know the ins and outs of my body right!) resulted in one very unhappy stomach come the day of the class. As a result I forfeited shorts for capris (sacrificing a bit of grip) to stop the panic about my flapjack being on show…And to hope that should I end up with a bottom burp I don’t trust, there would be a bit of extra time to make a dash to the bathroom!

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