A week or so before my first competition, I was having lunch with an old friend who also happens to be a ballroom dancer. As we parted ways and headed to our respective cars, she hollered, “merde!” from across the parking lot. I immediately stopped short of my next step and scanned the ground in front of me. When I realized the coast was clear, I lifted my foot behind me and craned my neck over my shoulder to see if I had already inadvertently sullied the sole of my shoe. Loosely translated