This blog title works best if know of the Crowded House song “Four Seasons in One Day” written about Melbourne’s weather, which is so changeable, the saying goes, ‘Don’t like the weather? Wait five minutes!’ (As an aside, hasn’t Neil Finn got the most beautiful voice?) The weather this week however has been mostly persisting down; although not as bad as last week where we had inches of hail, flooded gutters and brown sludge pouring over my white load of washing which would have been nearly dry as it hangs under a deck. No, I wasn’t happy. I dropped the f-bomb so vociferously I could hear Peanut saying ‘Ooh, Mama’s grumpy’ upstairs.
Anyhoo, yesterday (Tuesday) I had a shower in the morning, went for a run 3.5km on the treadmill at lunchtime, (slowly getting quicker and I felt really strong). I think the polite term is ‘glowing’, in reality, any time I do any exercise, I’ve always gone beet-red and sweaty, so I have to have a shower afterwards. I do run for longer at the weekends, but there is only a finite amount of time I can spend at the gym on my lunch break without taking the Michael. Then after work, I whizzed off to a Bikram class, which was lovely, but hard, hard work yesterday. When I got home, Hubs had Peanut in the shower, as soon as he’d finished, I hopped in the shower and was in my PJs before Peanut, who was busy charging round the house doing rudey-nudey runs.
We had a leaving lunch for an out-to-here pregnant colleague today (Wednesday) so I knew I wouldn’t get a run in, hence me doubling up on my exercise again. Not sure if it’s sustainable if I do Bikram in the evening, I’m just spent, although I did hold my balance better. I’ve not had a chance to do a class before work yet though, although as it finishes at 7:30 and I’m supposed to be at my desk at 8:15, it would be a close squeak just to get to work on time. Let alone showering too.
Last night in Shavasana before class, out of nowhere the trampoline classes I used to take wandered into my head. This must be over 25 years ago that I took them; called Horizon 2000, the senior (high) schools in my home town used to organise extra-curricular classes on anything from chess, to photography (which I also took), to various sports at their campuses, spreading the costs I guess. I loved trampolining, loved the feeling of freedom bouncing about. I wasn’t worried about doing all the tricks and jumps. I did an assisted somersault once, whizzed over so quickly (all those years of tumble turns in swimming) they weren’t ready to catch me, so I grazed most of the skin off my chin. Most attractive.
One girl walked up to me after class one day and said that the class was fed up with my just bouncing up and down, they wanted me to do more in the lesson, like seat drops and so on. I was mortified. I just liked the feeling, after the somersault incident, I didn’t particularly want to do any tricks. I just wanted to do something for pleasure. Swimming was a chore, training in particular, up and down, up and down. Anything up to 4km a night, then three mornings a week, plus land training, plus a special diet – it had gone from being something I loved to something I did.
I honestly don’t remember if I ever went back to trampolining.
Last night while I was trying to still my mind and get ready for practice, I realised why I was excited to learn about the Bikram studio nearby. I was able to do something I loved again. No matter how blooming hard it is. Like running, it’s addictive. Three classes back and I can’t imagine it not being part of my life again. Confronting as it is staring at your hot and sweaty self in the mirror, breathing hard through your nose, feeling nauseous, grunting with effort, I really enjoy it.
The past two to three months of my life I’ve made a concerted effort to prioritise exercise, my diet, me. I don’t ever want to feel shame or mortification for doing something I want to do. No matter how trivial other people think it is.
If you want to bounce, just bounce, go ahead. I’ll spot you.