In my late teens/early twenties (my somewhat out of control years), I was one of those whirling around in there - though I was so tiny I was often lifted off my feet by the momentum (always kept safe though and never trampled under foot, as you say). It's a unique ecstasy., a group whirling dervish. As a classical dancer (always a study in contradiction), movement brought a sense of freedom with it that I always adored, but a descent into the pit was an entirely more primal version of that, which was completely exhilarating.

Thank you Mike, a wonderful essay which I read with a grin spreading across my face.