Last Christmas, I bought Paul Trapeze lessons. Now, this was probably a selfish gift seeing as the lesson was for two, but oh well, it was a bounding opportunity.
We finally found time last week to book our lesson which was at Sydney Olympic Park. We arrived a couple of minutes late and walked in to a class of about eight others stretching and learning the art of the Flying Trapeze. I was oddly nervous. Not about the height or the drop, but mostly about not being strong enough. After we put on our harnesses, they asked who wanted to go first. I immediately raised my hand. (I love going first or being in the front of the class. I am a very visual learner.) So, I held my head high and climbed up the massive (and narrow) ladder.
Once you reach the top, you’re asked to step onto a teensy tiny platform. It felt like I was on a floating grass patch in a Mario game. As much as I wished for a *PAUSE* button, it was exhilarating. That is until this platform for ants became home to three people! Feeling claustrophobic and legless, I was anxious to get off. I knew that going back down that ladder from hell wasn’t an option. Nope, grabbing onto the bar and flying through the air was the only way. So that’s what I did.
Now, I don’t want to sound too conceited, but I was absolutely phenomenal at Trapeze. I know, I know, I was surprised myself. Who would have thought that a tiny little asian gymnast was hiding inside of me?
Now the only problem is, I’m addicted. All I can think about is flying through the air on a Disney Cruise or in Cirque Du Soleil. You can see my amazing circus skills below: