Last Wednesday, my Groupon addiction brought me and Mike to a trapeze class. I was pumped, Mike was indifferent, and neither of us knew what to expect. It turns out that it is a tough thing to trapeze – tough physically, and tough emotionally. I was terrified every time I had to climb the long wobbly later to the platform – the platform that always has three people on it (the jumper, the next jumper in line, and the dude who tells you when to go) is only a few feet square, and is very high up.
The worst part was right before the jump – even though you’re harnessed in and above a net, the process of leaning out OVER the abyss while holding onto a wobbly trapeze bar is counterintuitive and scary. The upside was that it made the actual jump seem just fine – I’ve spent enough time on rope swings and cliff jumps to be comfortable with the sensation of falling. The bar itself tore up my hands and the backs of my knees, my shoulders felt like they might get ripped off, and the fear made me grit my teeth down to nubbins. And yet: it was fun! Here is my highly accurate rendering of what I was able to do by the end of class.
And here is Mike in flying trapeze mode:
Not too shabby, right? I’m not sure I’d do it again, but I am glad we gave it a go.