I can see Lake Michigan perfectly from way up here. I’m three stories above ground, and the only self-respecting way down is to jump.
It was all my idea, this trapeze class. I was at work one day this summer and saw a Gilt City deal pop up. The girl in the photo looked at once happy and bad ass as she soared in the air. Two minutes of Facebooking and 5 of my girlfriends and I were signed up and ready to fly.
But standing here now, I don’t feel bad ass at all. I’m terrified. Climbing up the ladder was a feat in of itself. I’ve been instructed to lean out as far as I can, grab the bar, and then just jump. Sounds easy in theory, but my body just doesn’t. want. to. jump.
Pretty reasonable, my instincts here. I congratulate my brain on working so hard to keep my safe, but now I need to override the self preservation mode. 1, 2, 3, JUMP!
Once off the platform, there’s nothing to be scared of. Flying through the air is delightful, and the fall from the bar controlled enough. We’re encouraged to do some tricks, and over the course of four attempts, a few of us manage a few somersaults and dangling from our knees. There are no tricks in store for me, but I’m happy enough with just that leap of faith. Bad ass.