2 Years Ago, My Life's Direction Changed

Today, May 24^th, is a bittersweet day.

The former location of The Controlled Burn Fitness Studio
www.ControlledBurnFitness.com

Today marks the day that 2 Years Ago, the direction of my life changed.

May 24th, 2011

Within hours of waking up on the morning of May 24^th, 2011, I went from being a proud business owner and successful health and fitness professional, to making the decision to become a full time student.

On May 24^th, 2011, I woke up at 5:15am, excited that I'd slept in past 4am on my day off. I had planned on spending the day enjoying an early morning hike along the Morro Ridge Trail in Crystal Cove State Park followed by some quality time with my kayak in Newport Bay.

I checked my phone to see what time it was, and noticed I had missed a couple of phone calls and messages. Turns out, these calls and messages were from the Glendale Police Department and Glendale Fire Department, informing me “about an incident at my business…”  (Feel free to read the entire story HERE).

Fast forward a few hours, around noon. Sitting in the remnants of my fire-stinking, charred fitness studio, I had made the decision to go back to college, thanks to Joanne DiVito from Career Transition for Dancers.

In the two years since the fire, I have completed all but one of the required Core Curriculum Classes in the Saint Mary’s College of California LEAP Program, along with writing papers on American Sub Cultures, The Care and Prevention of Athletic Injuries, and Small Business management; each of which earned 3 Upper Division Units that I didn’t have to pay for!!! J

This past Monday was the first day of my last in-person Core Curriculum Classes, World Traditions. I now only have to complete an internship and senior project in the fall along with a Dance Teaching Methodology Course at Glendale Community College to earn my AA/Dance Teaching Certificate along with my BA from Saint Mary’s!

Whew, cramming 4 years worth of work in 2 years and one more semester has been hard, but very rewarding work.

I couldn’t have done any of this without the emotional and financial support of my amazing husband, the encouragement from Miss Tina Heinz, and the guidance and incredible mentorship of Dora Krannig. I also must thank Mister Lynn McMurrey for planting the seeds over 20 years ago, that dancers are far more capable than we are aware of, of achieving amazing things.

As much as I sometimes wish my beautiful little fitness studio was still standing, and that I was taking care of my amazing clients, I wouldn’t trade this 2 year detour for anything.

Happy 2 Year Anniversary of the Goodbye to The Controlled Burn Fitness Studio.

One more semester and I’ll be back to taking care athletes, dancers, and fitness enthusiasts who want to attain and maintain healthy, balanced, and functional bodies!
J

Wishing Ya’ll a Happy and Healthy Day!

-Melissa Adylia Calasanz

Of
Controlled Burn Fitness

J

A Reflection on My Journey Back to Dance

A Reflection on My Journey Back to Dance

Hard work, a little discomfort, humbling realizations of weakness...Must remember it will all be worth it. Move your body, exercise your mind, challenge yourself and thank the people who support you.

-Melissa Adylia Calasanz

of
Controlled Burn Fitness

A 20 Year Old Melissa Adylia Gutierrez (now Calasanz)
taking a dance break on the 5 freeway on the way to Sea World

The Following was written on Tuesday, March 12, 2013, as an assignment for a Jazz Class I am currently enrolled in at Orange Coast College. Jazz was my thing...ballet was never my strong point.  However, it is fascinating for me to observe how uncomfortable I feel in this Jazz class compared to how I feel while taking an Advanced Ballet Class, two days a week at Glendale Community College.  

OCC Jazz Dance Class Self Critique

It could be easy for a non-dancer to assume that a former professional dancer would have no problem participating in a college level Jazz dance class. However, I would be happy to assure anyone who held such an assumption that, for some former professional dancers, returning to a college dance class can prove to be challenging, not just physically, but also emotionally. Since enrolling in this class, in order to fulfill a requirement for my degree, I have had to face many unwelcomed insecurities, and I’ve also had to learn how to accept where I am today. Having the assignment to give myself a self-critique for my performance in our skills test on Tuesday, as well as critiquing myself for attempting to execute the choreographed material, has afforded the opportunity for me to reflect on my physical and emotional journey back to dance.

Though I have only taken about fifteen dance classes in the past five years, I have found that returning to dance class has been more of an emotional challenge than a physical one. For instance, it has been difficult to come to terms with the reflection I see in the mirror. Though my rational mind knows I have a relatively wonderful body for a woman my age, the former professional dancer in me has a minor emotional breakdown each day I have to put on the required dance clothes for class. At a weight of over twenty pounds more than what I weighed while I was dancing professionally, I no longer recognize myself in the mirror, and when I do realize that the reflection I see in the mirror is Me, there is a moment where my heart sinks and I yearn for the days when I was young, lean, and talented. 

I not only look so different from when I was a dancer, my body moves much less gracefully, and it takes my body a lot longer to become in synch with my mental intention. I no longer have a flair for picking up or retaining choreography. This contributes to the fact that I no longer move with the confidence and skill I did while I was a professional dancer.  However, though my ability to carry out choreography in a competent manner still eludes me, I have been pleasantly surprised to see that I am still capable of executing technical drills/exercises, in both the warm up and across the floor, efficiently and with clarity. I am thrilled to see that years of great technique is still ingrained in my muscle memory.

The idiosyncrasies in regards to my muscle memory were highlighted while engaging in the across the floor skills test/improvisation on Tuesday. The moment we were instructed to add “personal flair” to our walks across the floor, I “had to” take my hair down in order to move with confidence. I had already committed to challenge myself,  the second week of this semester when I decided to no longer wear my heels across the floor, but without the security-blanket my heels represented, I felt completely naked and incapable of “really dancing” with my hair up. I was amused by how obvious my insecurities could be dealt with just by adjusting my hair.  Once I took my hair down, the improvisation passes across the floor become easier. I made a conscious effort to put my hair back up as I relaxed and regained my confidence.

Unfortunately, my confidence didn’t last.  When it was my time to dance in a group, with all the young dancers, my emotions took over once again and I was an internal mess-as I always happen to be during this class. I do not remember even doing the routine. I find myself checking out each time I’ve had to do it. I was not looking forward to viewing my “performance” video later that evening. Thankfully, when I had the opportunity to watch the video, I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t the worst thing I had ever seen.

I chose to look at the video with kindness, and critique myself for what I really am: I am no longer a professional dancer! I have not been a professional dancer since 2005, and I have barely taken any dance classes in years! I have suffered a non-dance/sport-related injury which has left my left femur missing quite a bit of articular cartilage, and I have many other physical obligations I have to attend to in my personal and professional life which do not lend my body enough time to recover in order to go “full-out” in a dance class!

Realizing I can objectively view myself, not as an old and overweight “has-been” dancer, but as a student, is liberating. Yes, I was not on the music, yes, there were times when it was obvious I had lost direction and even forgot the choreography, and yes, the young dancers around me looked beautiful and full of potential and remind me of what I once was. Fortunately, I can now see what I still have, and what I will always have, and that is my experience, and a new found respect for how I am facing this.

I intend to continue to challenge my comfort level as I continue through this class, yet respect my physical limitations. My legs may no longer get as high as they used to, but my placement is still good, and my intention is respectful. I just need to give myself permission to stop comparing myself to who I used to be as a woman and a dancer and celebrate who I am today: I am an amazingly active fitness professional that loves participating in numerous half and full marathons and trail races throughout the year; I love that I kayak, trail run, hike, and bike weekly while taking jazz and ballet classes-each twice a week-for the first time in years; I love that the degree I am completing will continue helping me to keep dancers and athletes injury-free; and I love that being a participant and an observer in this class is providing me rich and valuable information that will enrich me just as much personally as it will enrich me professionally.

-Melissa Adylia Calasanz

of

Controlled Burn Fitness
Chez Calasanz
and
Disciplined Indulgence

Her Last Breath Happened to Me

Her Last Breath



L: Gloria C Lastra
R: Melissa Adylia Gutierrez

The last warm breath to leave her body left me cold. In all its sadness, and grizzly frailty, the last warm breath to leave her body was powerful. Her last warm breath changed me.

Her name was Gloria C. Lastra. The year she was born still escapes me. I don’t want to do the math. I refuse to do the math. It was hard enough, last year, when I finally forced myself to do the math. I’ve deliberately chosen to forget again. So, if I need to tell you, I’ll have to look it up, but I prefer not to. However, I can tell you, she was born on January 9^th, just after 5am.  

She was born 45 years prior to the day, the date, and the hour when the last warm breath left her body. Unlike the day she was born, when she took her last breath, her mother was not there. Her brother chose to spare their mother from the event, or perhaps he was trying to spare himself.  I can’t blame him. Who would want to deal with waking their mother, in the middle of the night, only to explain that her youngest child was about to die? It was bad enough he had to pick up his niece, and take her to watch his sister die.

The day before Gloria’s birthday, I had gone to dinner with my uncle. We had just visited her in the hospital. I told him “she’s not gonna wanna be in the hospital on her birthday.” He assured me “I know. We’ll take her for a walk when we see her tomorrow.” What he didn’t understand is that I knew she was going to die.

I had known Gloria all my life. As much as I knew how weak and unpredictable she could be, I also knew how much she loved me and my brother. I had a feeling she would choose to leave us on her birthday to spare us from having to remember her life and death on two separate days each year.

At 4am on January 9^th, my uncle finally called to tell me he was on his way. I was right. My mother was about to die.

No one is really prepared to watch someone they love die. Once I hung up, it was as if everything in me unraveled. I exploded into convulsive whaling, and then, just as quickly, I collapsed. By the time my uncle arrived, I was so still, so quiet, and so frightened. I was not as scared of witnessing her death, as I was frightened of how I was going to react, so I didn’t. I become numb for the entire ride to the hospital. I have no memory of what went through my mind while we drove to watch my Mom die.

Though her last warm breath belonged to her, it happened to me. I vividly remember everything that happened once we arrived at the hospital. The attending physician pulled me and my brother aside. He informed us how my mother had changed her mind that morning about the DNR, but wanted to leave the final decision up to us.

Our mother had raised us to respect the process of life and death, and had always said she would never want to be put on life support. We chose to let her go. I remember when we were children, her saying “A parent never leaves their child until the child can handle it.”

I was holding one of her hands and my brother was holding the other one. My uncle had his arms around me. Everything was so quiet and still, until the breathing started. Sporadic, gasping, and unforgiving breathes, with very long pauses between each inhale and exhalation.  She had always told us about the “death rattle.”

There is nothing graceful or beautiful about death when I call upon my memories of this moment, until I really step back. As she got closer to her final breaths, my Mom began contorting her body into strange positions while she slowly and laboriously gasped for air. Near the end, she had gotten into a position similar to a birthing position. Halfway reclined, knees high, pulled in close to the chest with her feet resting on the bed and fists clutching the sheets.

It was at this time, during each long moment of silence I had the most vivid memories of my mom telling me about the day I was born. She used to tell me how different it was on the day she was born, compared to what it was like on the day I was born. I looked at the clock. It was almost 5am. I knew when she was born. I knew she would leave soon. It was storming out. It was storming when she was born. She used to tell me how sunny and hot it was when I was born. I knew I would never hear her tell me these stories again.

She looked as if she was about to give birth. She took her last breath.

It has taken over 15 year for me to begin to thaw from that moment and begin to embrace that memory. I have kept it frozen within me for so long. Now I am finally able to see the beauty and the grace of her death. I am so fortunate to have been able to witness such in intensely intimate moment. It was as if I witnessed my Mother give birth to herself.

When the last warm breath left my Mother’s body, she became the powerful, influential, and respected woman she had always wanted to be. I was not able to see that until the day I began to warm to her memory. Her life, as much as her death, has made me the woman I am today.

Gloria C. Lastra
Melissa Adylia Gutierrez
1972



Gloria C Lastra
Melissa Adylia Gutierez
December 1972



Gloria C Lastra
Melissa Adylia Gutierrez
Glendale, CA
1980s

Gloria Lastra
Melissa Adylia Gutierez
1980s

Melissa Adylia Gutierrez
NaPali Coast
8 mile Plateau

Melissa Adylia Gutierrez
Newport Bay
Newport Beach, CA
2010

Melissa Adylia Gutierrez
Glendale, CA
NYE 2011

Melissa Adylia Gutierrez and Andrew Calasanz
NYE 2011

Mr. & Mrs. Calasanz



L: Gloria C Lastra
R: Melissa Adylia Gutierrez



Written for LEAP WFLA
LPP4: Personal and Public
Prompt:
Read Seilsopour essay. His life was affected by the revolution in Iran, but not in the expected way. What historical event affected you in some way: a social movement, civil unrest or economic conditions, a natural disaster, politics, etc. Choose something that affected your family, way of life, or way of thinking, even if in some oblique way. What was the historical event and how did you experience it? What followed? How has your life been affected by that event? What meaning do you make of it?

Life Lessons from My Kayak

Overall, I can easily say that my life is pretty wonderful.

J
But I am human. Even I have my sad days, or moments of helplessness.

There will always be challenges and life is not always puppies and rainbows, but I am always so happy each day when I wake up and know that I still have the ability to breathe, move, laugh, smile, and make decisions for myself and care for the ones I love.

I can give much thanks to all the time I spend on the water, with my kayak, for giving me a positive outlook on life.

I can rely on the ocean to help soothe my sorrows…and to teach me a lesson, or two.

I go kayaking to make my life better, to gain perspective, and to renew my will to move forward regardless of what obstacles may be waiting for me along the way.

When the going gets tough, I go kayaking.

The moment I’m out on the water I’m reminded of how lucky I am to be able to move. Without fail, if I’ve hit the water to work out some demons, a moment of calm can override my volatility, within moments of my paddle hitting the water.

While kayaking, I am easily reminded that I cannot fight the tide. I have to go with the flow, relax, enjoy the journey...all the good, the bad, and unexpected that comes with it.

Life is very much like ocean kayaking; one cannot truly be happy when fighting the ebbs and flows of life.

When I go kayaking, I ride a fine line between control and surrender. I find this balancing act to be wonderfully invigorating and very therapeutic. While kayaking, the water is my master and I’m always aware that Mother Nature is really the one in control.

As in life, while on the water, things can turn ugly without warning and I must not fight them. If I try to fight the tide, I will exhaust myself and, in a truly challenging situation, there is a chance I may die.

I have learned many lessons about life while being challenged on the water.

I’ve learned that proper planning, my ability to be alert and connected with body & mind is essential to keeping me safe and happy while on my adventures. Knowing better not to throw myself into harm’s way by putting myself into situations that are beyond my ability is essential to my safety, longevity, well being. I also choose my kayaking companions wisely. I choose to surround myself with kind, considerate, and productive people on the water (and in life)…if they have respect for their well-being it is pretty easy to assume they will respect others.

Kayaking has taught me that if I do not take inventory of all my gear and make sure that my kayak is in great condition, I cannot expect it to keep me safe. I take care of my body the way I take care of my kayak…as if my life depends on it…my life does depend on how I take care of it.

I’m not saying everyone should go kayaking (most people are freaked out by the water) but I do encourage everyone to start moving, start taking inventory of the people they surround themselves with, take inventory of what they have been doing to and with their body.

I encourage people to get to know their body and their mind. Respect it. Stop ignoring it. There is so much we can learn when we stop trying to turn things off.

I encourage everyone find their “kayaking.”

Life is as difficult as we want to make it. J

Enjoy the ride!
J