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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