The room was much larger than imagined. So much space for so much learning and fun. What better place than a gymnastic gym, to host an up and coming gymnasts’ 13th birthday party.
It has been a pleasure to watch her skill sharpen over the last couple of years. She has traversed the stiff rigid movements and sailed into a sea of fluid gracefulness. One performance even brought tears and thoughts of where in the heck did she get those legs?!
The festivities began on the large floor routine mat. Birthday guests of all sizes. Meaning short and tall, there is little width on the body of a gymnast. All are gathered on the mat. Some are spinning. Some flying through the air. Another does backflips, so many it’s dizzying.
One thing is certain. They are all girls and they are all talking, laughing and squealing, at the same time. Plus, they are inching ever closer to that magical door that enters the teenage years. The magical door that slams shut with a thud.
Tiring of the floor routines, they made their way to a long, raised apparatus that nearly stretched the length of the building. Imagine, a long taut trampoline about six feet in width. First, they hopped the length. Each hop propelling them higher and higher into the air. Scurrying back to the starting line, the front flips, back flips, twists and turns commenced again. All done with grace and such confidence rarely seen in this age group.
Their focus began to change as they all gathered at the far end of the long, taut trampoline. It was here something marvelous was about to take place. In single file, each one began to run the width of the building. Faster and faster until they would leap into the air and as they made their descent, they disappeared into oblivion. What malfeasance was taking place!?
Leaving the viewing section, walking across the bouncy floor routine mat, the answer became crystal clear. They were landing in a huge pit. A huge pit filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of large squares of foam rubber.
This is where the attire chosen for this event came into play. A favorite pair of jeans topped with a red silky sleeveless tank. Watching these events, it is really difficult, regardless of age, not to want to try out the equipment. A memory, long buried, had been a reminder of another pair of favorite jeans. Jeans that were destroyed trying to show young daughters how to do a round-up. The seat had ripped from waistband to inseam….beyond repair, never to be worn again.
Sitting at the edge of the pit, watching all this, a thought entered. Surely, this could not be fatal, especially to the jeans.
The adults, who wished to participate, had to sign a waiver. This was to assure that any stupidity performed, that resulted in injury, lied solely on the individual. Upon questioning the young lady in charge of the gym, a pass was given for a leap into the pit.
It was magnificent! Running, though not very fast. Jumping, though not very high. Landing into that sea of foam rubber and hearing all the cheers of a job well done! Then, the real fun began…..for the spectators.
Trying to get out of a sea of foam rubber blocks is far more difficult than getting in. An old movie began to play in the memory banks. People on safari, falling into a pit of quicksand. Sinking, sinking until only their pith helmet floated empty on top of the muck.
Small movements proved fruitless. Floundering and wallowing were given new meaning, as they were the only tools that seemed to work. Finally, a rescue plank was sent into the sea. A gym mat folded, like an accordion.
It proved to be a life saver. Even if it did require much more floundering and wallowing to get on top of it.
The red underwire bra, chosen to be worn under the red silky sleeveless tank, that was now in much disarray, turned out not to be a wise choice for gymnastic antics. The jeans, chosen for not trying gymnastic antics in the first place, proved to be as useful as Velcro when connecting with foam rubber blocks. But, the leap? It was worth every millisecond.
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