Emma Bartholomew learning how to pole dance at the Pole Dancing School, Shoreditch. Sun 27th Jun 2010

By Emma  Bartholomew I approached my first pole dance class with trepidation – although I was attending purely for fitness reasons, I was unable to get its seedier strip-joint connotations out of

By Emma Bartholomew

I approached my first pole dance class with trepidation - although I was attending purely for fitness reasons, I was unable to get its seedier strip-joint connotations out of my head.

The Pole Dancing School, which has two Shoreditch studios in Shoreditch High Street and Fanshaw Street, promotes the dance form as a way to achieving flexibility, strength and endurance.

Run by former ballet dancer turned pole-dancing champ Elena Gibson, she developed a passion for the pole after using it as a way back to fitness following a serious car accident in 2000.

Looking at photos of Elena on The Pole Dancing School's website, I was impressed by the art-form.

But as the first class loomed I could not stop thinking about its sleazy side, and women making suggestive moves for the pleasure of lecherous men.

I was also not happy about having to don a pair of shorts either - but apparently it is necessary for your legs to grip onto the pole.

I imagined the beginners' class would be more a matter of dancing around the pole rather than climbing and spinning around it, but we got stuck straight in.

The first move our Brazilian teacher Maya taught us was the "climbing hold", where you suspend yourself off the ground using only your inner thighs.

Mission impossible I thought - and sure enough I just slipped down the pole the first time I tried.

But after a couple more attempts I did manage to hold myself in the air and stick my arms out parallel to the floor - which must have been beginners luck because I never managed it again throughout the rest of the course.

I felt as though I was clinging on for dear life and had none of Maya's effortless grace and poise.

Maya then said that we were going to do a spin and showed us the "fireman" - where you hold on with your hands and the inside of your bent legs.

After a few failed attempts, I realised that you can get momentum for the spin using your leg to launch yourself off.

I was able to make a turn of nearly 360 degrees - I certainly wasn't spinning round and round like Maya.

But I was having a lot of fun - the kind of fun you can have swinging on the monkey bars in a kids' playground.

I began to realise that although all the moves looked totally unachievable when Maya demonstrated them, it was actually possible to duplicate an elephantesque-version.

This was not all without a lot of effort, and after a while I was laughing manically and feeling dizzy from exhaustion and from having attempted too many spins.

As I returned home after the two-hour class, my limbs had seized up and I could barely move.

I tried to get sympathy from my husband, but he was only concerned with scolding me for having told the kids where I was going that morning.

"What if they go around telling other people you have been pole dancing," he worried, as if I was engaging in a clandestine act.

The next day I woke up covered in bruises and a particularly nasty burn behind my calf from a failed spin attempt.

I could still barely move the next week when I turned up for the second class - and I decided to take future classes at a far more leisurely pace.

Although I would say that you need an incredibly high level of fitness to be able to pole dance well, a weekly class can definitely help as part of a fitness regime.

As the weeks passed, I felt I was making fitness improvements and the moves did become more manageable.

In the sixth and final class I even managed to turn a forward-facing spin into a backward facing spin as I was spinning - it felt like an achievement, even if I didn't carry out with any style.

We were also "treated" - as is customary in the final class - to a demonstration by Maya.

I was totally blown away by her ability as she plunged down the pole with her legs at right angles to the floor, using only her inner thighs to grip on.

I miss pole-dancing on a Saturday morning and hope to enrol on future classes when I have time - and have even thought it would be amusing to install a pole in our lounge (they are £150 on ebay).

I do think it's possible to get past its sleazy connotations because pole-dancing for your own gymnastic enjoyment is really lots and lots of fun.

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