Those of you poor souls who know me in real life will know that I don’t have the physique normally associated with a pole dancer. In fact, I am a bit of a heifer. (In many ways I am happy with that. I must be, or else I’d stop eating so much, wouldn’t I? That’s a whole other entry and now I want to get back to the topic of pole dancing, thankyouverymuch).

The reasons why I decided to write a book with a pole dancer as the main character, therefore, are a little bit hazy. I suspect at the time it was the wonderful spectacle of Alesia Vazmitsel on Britain’s Got Talent and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, at some point the tricky question of research comes into it. The web is wonderful, particularly on the subject of pole dancing – who knew? – but if I’m going to bring any sort of authenticity to this book, then I will need to actually see this art for myself.

My friend and fellow writer Cat sent me a link to Poles Anonymous, a pole fitness specialist who just happened to be setting up a new beginners’ class not far at all from me. I contacted Jane, who runs the classes, and an email conversation fluttered back and forth. We were clearly thinking along quite separate lines. My thoughts included going along to the class with a notebook and possibly a latte and a bar of chocolate, watching in comfort from some chair and occasionally asking questions like “does it hurt when you do that?” Jane’s thoughts were more along the lines of try it, it’s fun, lots of big girls do it, you might like it and besides, what’s the point of researching something and not actually trying it? My next thought was, there are big girls and there are BIG girls. And I’m the next level above that.

Nevertheless, I went along. I took a notebook when I should have taken a water bottle.

So we are now heading towards week three and I haven’t actually touched the pole (so to speak). I have been doing the warm up with the other ladies, which has half killed me, but I’ve done it which is the important thing.

(I should stress at this point, because I can hear some of you laughing, that it’s quite a long warm up (minutes, not seconds!!) and I’ve not done any land-based exercise for some years, so this is quite impressive. Are you impressed?)

After the warm up, I stand around and watch while the other ladies partake of the pole. I know I should try it, but I know for a FACT that I would look ridiculous, it would spoil the lovely elegance of the class and turn it into a comedy hour, and besides which although those poles are secure I doubt they’ve ever been tested to quite that extreme. And I can get a sense of what it’s like from watching and from listening to the comments from the ladies who are learning. Things like, if you grip too hard it’s like getting a Chinese Burn on the palms of your hands and the insides of your thighs. And if you hurl yourself at the pole too hard you might hurt your foof.

All things considered, I am definitely enjoying my pole fitness sessions and I am very grateful to the ladies who don’t seem to mind me standing there in my black jogging bottoms and black T shirt looking like some kind of pervy giant ninja. I have sworn to attend every one of the beginners’ classes (with the exception of 1st February, since I have somewhere Very Important to be on that particular evening) and if nothing else it might get me a tiny weeny bit fitter, thanks to all the warm ups.