Pure Ambition

Sometimes You Just Can’t

My mother has always been supportive of me in whatever activity I attempt, regardless of how ridiculous it looks or ultimately turns out to be.  There have only been two exceptions to this in my entire life – gymnastics and track.  As much as I like dancing, I was apparently born with a body that has a very strong affinity for gravity.  My apparent lack of balance made my headstands more like headtopplestothesideandfallsover, and good Lord, was it embarrassing or what to watch me run my damned fastest when my max was nowhere near the speed pretty much everybody else could obtain.  (Also, nobody taught me how to do the long jump properly, so I jumped the way I knew how – grande jete into the sand pit, baby!)

So you can imagine my feelings when Instructorman had an idea – an idea he seemed completely serious about – to do a cartwheel.  A cartwheel.  My head and shoulders are normally up here, and he wanted me to somehow get them from all the way up here in the air to all the way down there, like almost to the floor, like I was somehow supposed to cartwheel over his knee.  “We’ve got a lot of momentum going into this,” he said, “we could put it to great use!”  He also warned me that with stuff like this, you can’t half-ass it – you gotta go for it each and every time, or it just fails.

I could not wrap my mind around anything other than images of a tragically broken neck or busted collarbone.  “What did she do?” people would whisper.  My poor mother would shake her head sadly and murmur, “she tried to do a cartwheel over somebody’s knee on a hardwood floor.  I told her she was allergic to a sudden inversion of the head and feet, but she always had to learn on her own …”

We ultimately elected to do something a lot easier – basically, Instructorman is behind me, and holding me under the arms, he dips me face down towards the floor.

We managed to do this several times, but I have yet to do it without squealing in terror.  Logically, I know he’s not going to drop me.  Instinctively, it’s more like, holy shit, the floor!  My face!  Oh my God!