The gruelling triumph of Swan Lake: A ballerina’s ultimate test

It is one of the most coveted and punishing roles in ballet. The dual part of Odette and Odile in Swan Lake demands not just exquisite technique but extraordinary stamina—an endurance test that leaves even the most seasoned dancers utterly depleted.

For Unity Phelan, Mira Nadon, and Miriam Miller, three principal dancers at New York City Ballet, debuting the role this past season was both a dream come true and an unrelenting battle against physical and mental limits.

In the final moments before taking the stage, every muscle already bracing for two and a half hours of near-continuous movement, the dancers found themselves at the edge of exhaustion before the performance had even begun.

The physical toll: “You’re so exhausted, but you have to keep going”

Rehearsing in a sweltering studio just hours before showtime, Phelan made a calculated decision—she would save her energy and skip practicing the infamous 32 fouettés. The relentless one-legged turns, performed in quick succession during the Black Swan’s climactic solo, are as much a display of endurance as they are of skill.

At 30, Phelan had spent years dreaming of this moment. The debut had come just days earlier, and she was now preparing for her second performance, this time with a full house, including friends, family, and a significant portion of her home state of New Jersey.

“The hardest part is the pacing,” she explained. “By the time you get to Odile’s entrance, you’re already out of breath, and then you have to pull off some of the toughest choreography in ballet.”

Nadon, at just 23, felt the weight of expectation. As NYCB’s first Asian American female principal, she was making history with every step. She had anticipated dancing this role eventually—but not this soon.

“You can’t give up on yourself,” she said. “It’s as much mental as it is physical. Your body wants to stop, but you have to push through.”

Miller, meanwhile, never imagined she would be cast as Odette-Odile at all. At 28, she had just been promoted to principal when she learned she would be performing the role.

“I didn’t think I had the right technique for it,” she admitted. “But it’s one of those roles where you just have to throw yourself into it.”

Between acts, dancers had a mere 25 minutes to recover before launching into the final act’s emotional and technical climax. It was barely enough time to change costumes, switch pointe shoes, and quickly refuel with snacks and electrolytes.

The mental battle: “Your mind is telling you to stop”

For Miller, one of the most daunting aspects wasn’t the physical exhaustion—it was fighting her own self-doubt.

“Our minds are inherently lazy,” she said, laughing. “They tell us to stop, to take the easy way out. But you have to override that voice.”

Even as the audience gasped at their performances, the dancers themselves were locked in a mental struggle to maintain focus. The challenge wasn’t just executing the steps flawlessly—it was maintaining an emotional connection to the music and character, even when their bodies screamed for rest.

Fueling the performance: “Carrots and almonds wouldn’t cut it”

Portrayals of ballet dancers in pop culture often highlight the discipline and sacrifices required for the art. But the reality of sustaining a role like Odette-Odile is far from the restrictive diets often depicted on screen.

Miller laughed at the idea that actor Natalie Portman survived on a handful of almonds and carrots while preparing for Black Swan.

“She would have been dead on the floor,” Miller quipped.

In reality, these ballerinas had to fuel themselves like endurance athletes. Carbohydrates, protein, and hydration were essential. Phelan prepped for the marathon performance with protein-packed meals the day before, while Nadon kept energy levels up with yogurt, bananas, and sandwiches. Miller swore by electrolytes, energy supplements, and peanut butter protein bars.

The aftermath: “I’ve never been this exhausted”

The adrenaline carried them through the performance, but when the final curtain fell, reality hit.

As Phelan took her bows, she looked out into the theatre for the first time and fully registered the scale of what had just happened.

“The lights went up, and suddenly I could see all the faces. It was completely full—people were standing. And I just thought, ‘Oh my God, 2,500 people just watched this. And they liked it.’”

Miller, still processing the feat the next morning, admitted she had never felt so physically drained.

“I’ve definitely never been this exhausted after a show,” she said. “But somehow, I’d do it all over again.”