I spent late yesterday afternoon with some of my great-nieces and nephews. They were gathered for a spring break fun day at one cousin house where a trampoline is a fun activity.
I have not jumped on a trampoline since I was a teen. You don't get many chances as you get older.
But I assumed, like bike riding, it would come back.
So I crawled on the trampoline with Sam, 11, and Mia, 7, and Rocco, 3. It was hard to get in a standing position as they all bounced. I asked for a moment of non-bounce as I stood and then, I froze.
“How do I do this?”
“Just jump!” Sam said, as he did back flips.
I did and screamed. It was so unnerving. It didn't come back. It felt a little dangerous (and not the worry of flying off and cracking my head open, as was the worry in the 1960s trampolines; new ones are safer.) So I bounced for just a few minutes and then I worried. Would I wreck my back? My knees? My niece and nephew couldn't believe my inability and my worry.
I kept saying: “I should be able to do this. I work out everyday!”
They looked at me like sure you do, Aunt Becky. I really do. But trampoline jumping, like some other younger year activities, do not remain an option for most of us. It's another loss, but it's not one I will miss too much.
Finally, I convinced the kids to lie back on the trampoline and look for faces in the clouds, which I also loved to do as a kid. We did this for a half hour. No knees required.
(S-R archive photo)