The raw skin under my ripped blister glistens next to the red and tingling mounds on my palm, where calluses are beginning to form. Despite the lingering sensitivity, I'm glad I went to trapeze class this evening, and I can't wait to go back as soon as the blister heals.
I'm not there for the pain—who, me? I'm there for the thrill I get when I set myself a challenge and make progress towards it. I'm there because I love seeing the other two students try, fail, try again, learn, and perform, and I want to be able to that too. I'm there because the things I imagine myself doing once I have more experience (and thicker calluses!) make it easier for me to get through my daily exercise routines. I'm there because trapeze scares me, but in a way that I can overcome that fear.
Today I managed to get my knees over the bar entirely on my own. It took me one and a half sessions to learn how to do that with plenty of help from Mark, the ever-so-patient instructor. I learned to swing my knees up, contract my abdomen, and extend my knees. I learned to engage my shoulders by tensing them, but not too much. I learned how to trust myself to hang on while I allowed my legs to swing back, pendulum-like, around my center. I learned how to bend into the swing on the way forward, pulling my legs as high as they could go. I learned to flex my toes in order to clear the bar. And I learned to stop thinking so much and just do it... <laugh>
I know I'm probably going to forget many of these things and re-learn them during the next lesson and the next lessons after that, but that's okay—learning is part of the fun of it all.
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