A few weeks ago a friend somehow talked me into taking a trapeze class at the Santa Monica pier.
I had seen this particular school before when I had taken my kids to the pier play the carnival games or go on the rides and I always thought to myself, "Who on earth would be crazy enough to take this class?"
Apparently, I am.
In case I hadn't shared this with you, I have a lovely fear of heights. This includes, but is not limited to: airplanes, bridges, tall buildings and now....trapezery. Yes, that's my own made up word.
I was excited to take the class because I hadn't really challenged myself in this way in a long time. Sure, kid rearing has plenty of challenges as do relationships and jobs, but this sort of physical challenge hadn't come my way since I did a ropes course in high school or perhaps rock climbing in college.
Climbing up the ladder was really scary, but the hardest part was taking that leap of faith off of the platform. Logic told me I was harnessed and safe, but my body was yelling the opposite.
For what it's worth, I went up three times, leaped off and hung by my legs. My kids were cheering me on below.
While I didn't become "addicted" to trapeze school as one woman in the class admitted she had become, I was glad I stepped out of my comfort zone, even if only for a few hours.
And hey! Who knew your armpits could be so sore!!