I cast my eyes around the class to see if I am the only one with screaming arches, and feel oddly relieved by other students’ winces. When our teacher Kristina tells us that with practice and massage this pain will pass, I do not believe her. But she is right. By week five my foot cramps have stopped. This minor miracle was aided by the acquisition of correctly sized ballet shoes, a ritual one classmate likened to being fitted for your very first bra. By week seven, I have started to notice how uncomfortable some of my non-ballet shoes are. By week 12, I realise I have gone up a shoe size.