Work Text:
Race loved to dance. Dance was their entire life, the only consistency when they were being thrown around the system. Dance helped them through every difficult moment, every time Race felt like giving up, they could turn their pain into movement. But recently they were finding the movement was causing more pain.
Dance classes were always tiring, but the pain was unusual. A constant ache in their bones that no amount of resting could cure. Even spending too long lying down too long could make the aching even worse.
Not wanting to tell anyone, Race pushed through, unable to do anything but accept the pain, welcome it into his life without complaint. They were eighteen, between taking dance lessons at school, teaching the younger kids at their dance school, and the classes they attended at said dance school, there wasn't a single part Race's life that wasn't about dance. In every mapped out future they were either performing or teaching dance. There wasn't anything else.
Eventually the what ifs got too much. The pain wasn’t getting any better, and their concentration was getting even worse. So Race went to Jack, as they always did.
It began with a doctor telling Race for about the hundredth time that they were hypermobile, and eight weeks of physio. It was a referral that focused only on their hip pain. The exercises were helpful, but Race was already strong from the years of dance. And there was still a niggling pain in their back, and their shoulders, and knees, and wrists, and elbows, and ankles, and… It was never ending. The physio would only work on their hips for the referral. It was exhausting.
At some point the pain flipped from being a constant overwhelming thing, to just being in the background. It had just been there for so long Race could barely see the point in focusing on it anymore. It wasn't like thinking about it made any difference to the pain.
They taught the younger ones with a smile, ignoring the way every step felt like hell. School was nearly over, and then they could spend more time teaching, and less time dancing. Try and get more exercise that wasn't dancing, work on building the right muscles back up, hopefully that would help ease the pain. Because Race couldn't stop dancing, they wouldn't have a life without dance.
The thought brought them to tears one sleepless night, as the pain was too intense to sleep. Each position put pressure on one of their joints, making it too uncomfortable to lie still for long enough to fall asleep. Was this really going to be the rest of their life?
Still, Race persisted. They finished school, began to pick up more classes with the younger ones. Leading more pre school classes that were so cute it was easy to forget the pain. The dance school was beginning to train them, looking at different courses to put them on. It was exciting, this was the future Race had always dreamt of.
They went for a gentle walk every day, tried to swim three to four times a week, and even joined in with the aquafit class they offered at the pool, which was filled with middle aged women. They ate all of the right foods, were taking the best vitamins and supplements that were supposed to help. Race was doing everything right, they didn't know what else to do.
Race was clinging onto a future that used to be so certain and so sure, and all of a sudden their life had been ripped away from them. But Race wasn't ready to let go.
Their dance teacher gave them stretches to do that were gentle, and stopped them from overstretching. Along with a load of exercises that would build strength in those smaller muscles that had been neglected for years while their larger muscles were overcompensating, desperately holding them together. They learnt to dance in a way that didn’t compromise their wellbeing.
It felt like healing. It wasn't perfect, it was never going to be, but for the first time, Race felt like dance and the pain could coexist.
Race completed various dance teacher courses. Became qualified to teach ballet, tap, jazz, and contemporary. They got to be in charge, plan their own lessons, and teach all by themselves. Race even got one of the senior students as an assistant to train up. Even with the pain Race was enjoying life so much it felt even more worth it to push through.
And then one morning Race woke up in so much pain they could barely get out of bed. Jack helped them downstairs to the sofa, called out of work for them. Race had been running at one hundred miles per hour for too long, their body had simply given up.
It started a long process of blood tests, and scans, and tests trying to work out what was wrong. Race danced on days they could, but they were assisting more than teaching as the good days were so inconsistent.
The results took forever to come back, and they ultimately told them nothing. Race was going to be in pain for the rest of their life and no one could tell them why. Chronic pain they called it, there was no getting better.
Race was referred to a specialist, who referred them to a different specialist, who gave them more questions than answers. They were prescribed a walking stick and crutches to help on the bad days. Shown how to tape everything to help stabilise their joints, and were recommended various splints and supports that would help.
With Race already doing so many of the right things, there weren't a lot of changes to make. Just a long conversation about how much dancing they were doing, and whether it was worth the impact on their body to keep going.
Race kept dancing. They knew the impact on their mental wellbeing would be big enough to sacrifice their physical wellbeing just a little.
It took a lot of convincing, but eventually they did use the mobility aids almost everyday, which was especially helpful on their daily walks. They also had a chair while teaching, allowing them to rest if needed. It meant they were able to work like normal, no longer needing days off. They used supports and tape whenever needed, trying to protect their body for the future as much as possible.
They got their classes back full time, accepted that some days would be better, some worse, but that they could work with it, rather than pushing through it. The kids thought that the crutches were really cool. Race had picked out some colourful ones specifically for while they were teaching.
The acceptance didn't last quite as long as Race wanted. They were fine at work, not wanting any of the kids to know. But they were angry. Started snapping at Jack, having stupid rows with their siblings. All of it just felt so unfair.
All they'd ever wanted was to dance, and at only twenty years old that was being taken away. They had to take so many precautions just to make sure they would be able to move the following morning. Race was trying to inspire the next generation, and yet nothing felt worth it anymore. What was the point of trying to hold onto dance, when dance obviously didn't want Race.
It wasn't fair. It wasn’t. Fair.
‘are my legs gonna last
is it too much to ask
is it too much to ask
is it too much to ask
is it too’
Race's dance teacher told them about a new class they were putting on, told them they should come along and assist. It was a class for dancers with disabilities, and over the weeks they assisted, Race learnt what dancing really was.
They watched dancers with crutches, just like Race, and yet they moved so effortlessly. There were dancers in wheelchairs, and with limbs missing, dancers who were deaf, and blind. All these amazing dancers who hadn't given up just because their life wasn't entirely as expected. They'd learnt to adapt and overcome challenges, and despite everything, they were still dancing.
So Race got involved, they learnt more than they taught, but became a better teacher because of it. They were still a dancer, still lucky enough to spend all their time doing something they loved so much. It may not have been exactly as they planned, and being in pain all of the time was not something that was ever going to be easy, but they were still dancing.
They stopped snapping at Jack, stopped having rows with their siblings. And while the anger still remained some nights, especially on those painful sleepless nights, Race found more than acceptance. They found their love of dance again, it sat with them like a warm blanket, just like it had as a child.
Race thanked their dance teacher at the end of a lesson, one where Race had used their crutches throughout. And with an understanding smile, they replied ‘you're welcome.’ Race loved to dance.
Dance was their entire life, and through every difficult moment, dance was still there for them. Half an hour in the studio alone and they were able to express everything they were feeling without saying anything. And like Race's dance teachers had helped them over the years, they were able to do the same for the next generation. Dance was truly magical, and Race was so glad dance was always going to be in their life.