The Jump Thing

     Jumping has quite literally elevated my life to a new level.  First of all it's crazy for a larger, 53 year old woman to consider box jumping.  I could hurt myself outlandishly and in public.  Secondly, it scares the crap out of me.  Not so literal but you get the picture.  Each and every time I attempt this, all other plans, ideas and thoughts must be put aside.  

     It is a moment container.

Thinking about random stupid things while elevating 14 inches is dangerous. If I spend seconds on how I must look, my toe will ever so slightly brush the edge of the step, reminding me that I'm not doing this for anyone else.  I've gotten to 14 inches in slow stages over the last 8 weeks, each new riser ramping up the endorphin rush.  Which was an unexpected side benefit.  The high lasts an entire day after the exercise because I have conquered fear...until the next time.
     It has unintentionally become a spectator sport, mainly because my body is larger and older.  In the middle of the work out other gym members will stand in awe, rather obviously I might add, that I'm besting gravity. Routinely one or more will tell me their feelings about my activity.  Which brings me to the reason for this post.

     "You are so brave."

     "I don't think I could do that."

     "I'm terrified for you."

As children we jump from chair to chair, rock to rock, bed to dresser.  I remember a little goose nip of tension, but nothing close to what I experience in front of the step.  I've concluded it's because I'm grossly out of practice.  It is a skill scaring oneself.  Haunted houses, sneezing and walking down dark alleys don't count.  The real tremblers are the things requiring skin in the game, in this case my shins and dignity.  I don't do it to prove I'm not too old or too large, though that has turned out to be the case.  I do it to challenge myself in an attempt to stop the incessant need to make things easy.  For some reason, which will require further research, I bought into the idea life should get easier as we go along.  Which is probably why my ass is the size that it is.
     Easy isn't the point.  For me, it is to experience all there is to experience, whether emotionally, mentally, spiritually or physically.  To actively engage in taking myself to the next step, rather than letting the movement of life shove me down the road.  Jumping is my training ground.
     
     I gather myself tightly and spring with no assurance I can or will make the hurdle.  It is thrilling and overwhelming and insane.  Which for me is the reason to do it in the first place.