Can the Circus Save 2018

It’s only the second month of 2018 and already it’s obvious that this year is going to be one of change. From quitting my job to discovering a new sense of self, I feel ready to mix things up, feel uncomfortable, and to grow.

Luckily, it doesn’t take much to make me feel uncomfortable.

All it really takes is an Introduction to Acrobatics class.

Yes, the girl who has never done a cartwheel and who has only made it halfway through a somersault (before rolling backwards and lying there defeated), decided to go to sign up for an acrobatics class. Smart.

Let me paint the full picture of my disdain for “tumbling.” In elementary school, I used to hang out by myself for hours after school. This wasn’t because I had no friends (though this always shocks me when I think back on my obsession with mystical animals at the time). But no, this was by choice.

I was alone because nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, could persuade me to join everyone else in the gymnastics room. The thought of my horizontal, uncoordinated rolling—while everyone else flung their bodies around with ease—was not one that appealed to me.

So why was I subjecting myself to this type of movement now, when I was well past my most-flexible prime?

Maybe it was because another friend of mine is going through changes in her life as well (bigger changes than mine) and asked if I would do this class with her. Or maybe it was the fact that I have decided to challenge myself this year; to push myself.

Most likely, though, it was because I thought we were doing an Introduction to Aerials class and had no idea that I’d just signed up to roll around in front of other people.

Whatever the reason, I ended up at the Circus Center in the Sunset District of San Francisco with two of my best friends. I’m not going to lie. The sight of this classical structure (something that would probably bring joy to the heart of any child) filled me with fear.

“Oh my god,” I thought to myself, “what the hell have I done??”

There was no turning back now, though. Classpass would charge me $15 if I bailed now—and god knows I don’t have an extra $15 lying around.

We entered the building and signed our waivers. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t read a word of it. I know that’s terrible, especially when you’re signing a form that is basically saying you’re okay with getting seriously injured. But I couldn’t bring myself to read about how I was choosing to do this. WHY??

This question was even more potent when the nice man at the desk casually mentioned that we might be doing trampoline flips… yeah, no thank you!

Once inside the class space, we tucked our shoes into a little cubby and sat on the bouncy floor, staring up at a compact bald man with eyeshadow who was juggling bowling pins.

Could he have screamed “CIRCUS CLASS” any more??

We began the class by sitting in a circle. We all shared our previous tumbling experience and the reason we’d decided to take the class. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that others had little-to-no swirling, twirling, flipping experience.

Next, we had to “get our heart rates up.” We started with a jog around the floor. Mind you, this floor wasn’t a football field or anything. It was just your average-sized room. And yet, I was out of breath by the second round. Like sweaty, heavy breathing.

Then, of course, it was time to go backwards, to skip forwards, skip backwards, grapevine, grapevine the other way, run again, hop, and holy shit I couldn’t breathe. I’d had no idea that an acrobatics class would get me gasping for breath. Then again, walking up my stairs everyday always gets my heart racing, so I suppose it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Next, it was time to walk across the room.

Sounds simple, right?

Wrong.

The instructor showed us different “walks” with kicks and swinging legs. He moved quickly and effortlessly, making everything he did seem easy. Of course, when it was our time to give it a try, it felt as though someone had completely removed the connection between my feet and my brain. It was honestly as though I’d never walked before. After fits of laughter as I stumbled my way across the room in a variety of different walks, it was finally that time.

Time to go upside down.

My heart rate once again heightened, but this time from fear. I literally hadn’t done this since I was a child and that had often ended up with me flipped sideways in an awkward tangled ball.

Still, this is what I was here for. It was just a somersault, afterall.

Listening closely to what the instructor said, I tucked my arms close to my body, using them for support. Then, I kicked off and it was happening! I was rolling. It felt easy. Of course, I was still unable to spring to my feet from the tucked position (as so many others are able to do) and instead had to press my hands to the mat and kind of fumble my way up, but still! I had flipped.

It was not over yet. We continued with somersaults followed by cartwheels and then handstands.

Then, the instructor, announced that we were going to do a backwards roll.

A backwards roll??! Was he serious? My body could barely move forward and now he was asking that I blindly trust myself enough to send it in another direction completely? No. No way. Not happening.

But then it was. We all crouched down like little toads and brought our hands up near our ears. Laughing audibly at the fear we felt over this small movement, we let ourselves go.

Phew!

Next, for the crowning moment of class, the instructor brought out a thick soft mat. We were going to try something he called “dive rolls.” This consisted of us running at the mat, flinging ourselves forward, and then tucking into a roll.

Was he serious?

He was.

One by one, we ran at the mat and dove forward tucking into a somersault at the end. It was exhilarating and a rush and we did a couple of rounds. Then, he left for a moment and returned holding a hula-hoop.

What was that for? Why was he holding it in front of the… oh my god. He seriously expected us to dive through a hoop? We had just learned how to somersault!

This was seriously going to take everything we had.

Channeling our inner WWE Divas, we took on the challenge. Running headlong for the raised hoop, we dove through and tumbled and tumbled and tumbled. We continued until it was time to stretch and head home.

Leaving the class, we felt magnificent and amazing and talented and strong; Queens of the World. The incredible weather that had befallen San Francisco only elevated our increased self-worth.

Unfortunately, this feeling was soon to be deflated. Waking up the next day, the three of us creaked and cracked and gasped at the pain in our shoulders, abs, thighs, calves, feet, hands, literally every muscle in our body.

The strong and proud stances we’d supported the previous afternoon had now been transformed into a hobble and limp. We looked like some creature from Lord of the Rings or something, clutching at railings and side-stepping downstairs.

Who knew that an Intro to Acrobatics class could be this much of a workout? We were hurting, but it felt good. The annoyed looks we received from other friends who wanted to walk at a normal pace but were held back by our zombie-speed movements were WORTH IT. Here’s to trying out new things in 2018, to sore muscles, and to circus freaks!