Man, this hardwood dance floor project kicked my butt. I’ll tell ya straight up – if you wanna do this yourself, you better really want it. Here’s how my whole mess went down.
The “What Was I Thinking” Phase
I decided hardwood because that studio video went viral, right? Real dancers sliding around smooth as butter. Saw the price tag for pro installation? Forget that. My wallet said “do it yourself, genius.” Bad move.
First, I dragged my sad self to the lumber yard. Felt like a kid in a candy store. Grabbed these oak boards – 8 feet long, real heavy. Owner guy smirks like “Good luck, pal.” Paid up. Then came the first stupid mistake: I drove my old hatchback. Boards hanging out the back like dead bodies. Tried taking a corner too tight – crunch. Scratched the bumper and dented the board ends. Already starting strong.
The “Why Is Nothing Square?” Part
Got the boards home, cleared the spare room. Measured the space ten times. Cut the first board with my circular saw. Straight as a banana. Cursed loud enough my neighbor texted “You ok?” Cut another. Still off. Took three tries just for row one. Sweat pouring down my neck.
Now the fun part: laying ’em down. Each plank needed these little nails hammered sideways into the tongue. Sounds easy. Was not. My hammer kept slipping. Nails bent faster than cheap spoons. Smashed my thumb twice. Gave up, bought one of those crazy expensive nail guns. Felt like cheating. Worth every cent.
Sanding: Pure Misery
Okay, boards down, looks terrible. Nail holes showing, gaps everywhere, surfaces uneven. Enter the floor sander rental. This beast weighed a ton. Plugged it in. First pass? Kicked like a mule, ripped a giant gouge. Sawdust exploded like a volcano. Couldn’t breathe. Had to tape up goggles and wear one of those stupid respirator masks. Sweating buckets under it. Sanded for hours. Back screamed. Arms felt like noodles.
- Rented the big sander? Check.
- Created a dust cloud visible from orbit? Check.
- Made the entire upstairs look like a snow globe? Absolutely.
Finishing Touches and That One Gap
Finally sanded mostly smooth. Time for the juice: floor finish. Picked this water-based stuff – smelled bad but dried fast. Brushed it on. Looked good at first. Then it dried all streaky. Put on another coat. Little bumps everywhere. Sanded lightly by hand – terrible idea, flaked in spots. Third coat? Just gave up. Learned the hard way: bubbles are your enemy. Pop ’em fast or live with them.
And yeah, there’s this one gap near the corner. Two boards warped overnight before I nailed ’em down. Didn’t notice. Too late now. Sweating over every plank warping kept me up nights after.
The Final “Eh, Good Enough”
Project took two solid weekends and half my sanity. Is it perfect? Hell no. That gap bugs me. Near the wall it’s kinda rough. But… it’s wood. You slide on it. Feels solid under your feet. Sweat? Tears? Maybe a little blood? All sealed in there under that not-quite-perfect finish.
Would I do it again? Probably not. But next time someone mentions hardwood dance floor? I just nod real slow. Yeah. I know about that.
