Pointes and Perspective #41 Beauty And The Beast

Beauty And The Beast

Back in 2023, I was in the running for Ms. Health & Fitness. I didn’t take home the crown, but I walked away with something far more meaningful. I was given a platform to say out loud what I’ve believed my entire career - that dancers are athletes. Period. Not “kind of” athletes, not “almost” athletes - athletes! We are artists, but there is no denying our athleticism. Every lift, every leap, every pirouette requires strength, endurance, and precision on par with any sport.

My students and I have this ongoing conversation about how their “civilian” friends think we are frail or weak because ballet looks so easy. We laugh because it’s the complete opposite. The only reason it looks effortless is because of the extreme strength required to pull it off. Behind every airy leap and delicate port de bras is the grit of an athlete who has trained, conditioned, and pushed their body to the limit.

While working on a research paper this summer, I dug even deeper into the question, are dancers athletes? The evidence was everywhere. Science shows dancers hit lactic acid thresholds just like sprinters. Orthopedic surgeons, including Dr. William Hamilton of New York City Ballet, compare overuse injuries in dancers to those of football players, citing repetitive jumps, turns, and landings that put incredible stress on bones, tendons, and joints. Strength training? It doesn’t ruin a dancer’s lines, but rather, it prevents injuries, boosts performance, and extends careers. Studies by researchers like clinical kinesiologist Karen Clippinger show dancers who train like athletes, incorporating core work, plyometrics, and resistance training, have fewer injuries and longer, healthier careers. Experts including physiotherapist, Dr. Lisa Howell and sports medicine physician, Dr. Scott Weiss, all emphasize the athletic demands of dance. As Dr. Hamilton has said outright, dancers are athletes, and not simply artists.

Even the numbers back it up. Peak heart rates in professional dancers during rehearsals can hit 85–90% of maximum, similar to competitive soccer players. Assessments of maximal oxygen uptake show that elite dancers have cardiovascular capacity comparable to endurance athletes. And yet, despite the data and decades of expert testimony, dancers are still too often sidelined in conversations about athleticism.

This isn’t a new debate in our field. It resurfaces constantly. I’ve been teaching for over 35 years, and the question “Are dancers athletes?” comes up again and again. The conversation flared during the last Summer Olympics when breakdancing was added as an event, and then again when it was left out of the next Games. People have strong feelings on both sides, and I get it. Dance doesn’t neatly fit into the categories that usually define sport. You can’t “win” at dance, and artistry is central in a way that isn’t always true for athletics. But the unfortunate part is the lack of resources available to dancers compared to athletes in other sports.

At Eastern University, where I teach ballet, football and baseball players have access to sports therapists, strength coaches, and injury prevention programs. My dancers, who train just as intensely, don’t get the same support. Every day, they push their bodies to the limit, yet the systems around them often fall short. That needs to change.

Just recently, Lululemon made headlines by dropping dancers from their Sweat Collective program. This surely felt like a punch to the gut for anyone who knows what it takes to dance en pointe, or jump across a stage. And yet, it only proves why we must keep speaking up. Dancers are powerful. Dancers are disciplined. Dancers are athletes.

I understand and agree with the other side. Dance isn’t always scored or measured in points. You can’t “win” Swan Lake. And reducing it to sport alone misses the soul of the art - the storytelling, the emotion, and the connection. But that’s the beauty of it I suppose. We live in the overlap. We are both.

Do I care if dance makes it into the Olympics? I am not sure. What I do care about is that dancers have access to the same resources other athletes do! Sports therapy, nutrition guidance, and trainers who understand the demands on our bodies. Because whether you’re a thirteen-year-old sweating through pliés or a professional pushing through a grueling season, you deserve the tools to thrive.

We’ve been graceful under pressure, strong when no one’s watching, and bold enough to demand recognition. We embody elegance in every line, power in every muscle, and a force that refuses to be underestimated. Strength and grace aren’t opposites—they’re dance partners. And together, they make us unstoppable.

We are the Beauty and the Beast.