CIRQUE DU SCREAMING LADY
Today I swung on a
trapeze…why, didn’t you?
It’s something
I’ve been dying to do for a long time, in fact, before I had the King I signed up
for a class in Regent’s Park, in London, and it was rained out (surprise
surprise). So, two years on, I finally managed to rebook the class and go
and attempt to carry out my cirque du soleil fantasy. Fantasies are fun aren’t they,
but oh so far from reality.
Firstly, need I remind you, actually forget that…need I remind myself
that I am afraid of heights. Yes, you heard me. I bet you’re wondering why the
hell I decided to climb up a very tall ladder and let some man push me out onto
the trapeze without a second thought. Who are we kidding, there were OH SO many
thoughts going through my head; mainly, am I going to die? Who last died on this
thing, why is this ladder so damn rickety, and did I remember to leave a will
and explicit instructions on how the King likes his pasta?
So it went like this, six eager trapeze wannabees (or
scared sh*tless morons) met in a section of the park where they had set up a
giant trapeze, netting contraption. Two out of the six of us were apparently
pros and had been coming for weeks. The rest of us looked slightly ill as we
realized how high the trapeze actually hung above the ground. After some warm up
stretches (in which I almost pulled a muscle, NOT a good sign when you’re about
to go flying through the air) and a few trial runs on a small bar hanging about
seven feet off the ground, we were told that it was now time to climb the
ladder and try out what they just taught us.
WAIT, whoa…yeah, that was my first thought too. They ran through
a bunch of directions once that I was barely comprehending; we hung upside down with
a person on either side of us, and then got down. That was it. I certainly did not think
that was grounds to go climbing up I don't know how many feet above the ground and pretend I was a professional acrobat.
Needless to say, the first time up there was a bit of a blur. The mere ascent up the
ladder almost made me puke, the only thing saving me was the fact that I was
heavily harnessed and had a wire attached to the side of my belt and I was too scared to climb back down the ladder.
When I got to the top that’s when it really hit me: I HATE
HEIGHTS, what the hell was I thinking!! The second thing that hit me was this
man standing behind me holding my belt and telling me to lean forward and grab the bar
cause he’s ‘got me,’ well, he better be telling me the truth or I’m going to
find him and kill him (that’s after they peel me of the ground). After a few
deep breaths and a rallying of my pride (the instructors were those hardcore
annoying, ‘we don’t say can’t’ types) I jumped out, let out a large scream and
went flying through the air. The instructors on the ground were apparently
yelling directions at me (lift your knees, lock them onto the bar, now let go of your hands, blab la bla)
but to be frank, I just heard my heart beating and the sound of death rushing towards me.
When I got down on the ground after the first time – and kissed it –
the annoyingly pushy instructor told me that I did fine, but next time maybe I
could listen to the directions and not scream so much. Oh, step ASIDE, instructor lady! I was just happy all my
limbs were still attached to my body. Needless to say, after watching the rest
of the group go – and one girl get the hell out of there, fast – I climbed up
that rickety old ladder several more times and kicked that trapeze's ass. Not
only did I hang upside down (you hear that King, your Mamma ain’t no sissy!)
but I did the catch and release with the instructor shouting commands at me and
managed not to have a complete coronary in the process.
And the best part, I have proof for the King (in video form) that his mom
rocks and still managed to come home alive and make him his pasta the way he
likes it. Ah, the small successes in life.
Happy Friday.
T