Living-Room Gymnastics

Tom didn't want me to do it. He was sure I was going to crack my head open on the corner of a table, chair or even the wall. This didn't help the urge because I am competitive and when someone tells me I can't do something, I want to do it even more. The somersault would happen.

Now please understand my current situation, I am out of shape. I am not flexible. Sometimes I have been known to be uncoordinated. When I do nothing at all, I am sore, so doing a somersault alone was a feat.

I don't actually remember the last time I did a somersault, probably elementary school. I mean, I played volleyball so I can barrel-roll out of a dive like a pro, but an actual somersault? Where do I even start? So I squatted down in my living room, ready to own the somersault and realized I didn't remember how to do it.

Tom and I were in tears laughing. How do you explain how to do a somersault? He was coaching me through it, while laughing. I was trying to remember the logistics of how not to hit myself in the face with my knees.  A toddler can do this so I should be able to do this.

About 5-10 minutes later I was still squatting on the living room floor. Are my feet supposed to be together or apart? Should I take out my ponytail? Is this going to hurt my back? Will I get dizzy?

I closed my eyes, counted to 3 and went for it. I am still alive and here to talk about it, so you know it went relatively well. It went so well in fact that I popped right back up onto my feet to stick it like an olympian.

I don't know what you do on your Thursday nights, but we know how to keep it real.  And, I think there is a lesson to be learned here somewhere.

How to do a somersault