I took my children to their private tumbling/parkour class tonight. It’s private because my daughter needs to be in the gym with an instructor who can give her more personal attention. My son goes with her and has a fantastic time doing all sorts of practicing on the skills he’s learning in his other classes.
On the way there I was on the phone and both children played games together happily in the car. I didn’t pay much attention because I was talking, but voices weren’t raised and they seemed to be doing creative imaginative play in the back. I wasn’t sure what it was until we got in the car to go back home.
While they were in their class tonight I joined an adult class on the other side of the gym. The class was specifically a handstand class. It seemed pretty specific but from watching the students the week before I thought I’d give it a try. We did some stretching to warm up—which I needed. I think I could do with some stretching most days. I don’t stretch before or after running or really any other time unless I’m trying to get some muscles in my shoulders or back to release.
Stretching complete and we move into conditioning. Five stations, consisting largely of strength work related to doing and holding handstands in various positions. Let’s be clear that I haven’t done any upper body work in close to two years. I can run for hours, but this wasn’t easy. But it was fun hard.
We moved into handstands, which I can do without a problem. But handstands with pushups against the wall and piked handstands and cartwheeling out of handstands and balancing handstands. It was good stuff, but I have this “old” thing going on that made it difficult. In this case, the “old” thing consists of damage-based injuries.
My right thumb has something torn or worn and when my hands are holding up my entire body it’s less than comfortable. Then there is the thing that happened when I fell the day I ran eight miles for the first time. I fell and rolled on my right elbow and damaged something. Things move in ways they shouldn’t move—scary ways. It’s not so worrisome when it happens while I move clothes from the washer to the dryer, but when I’m holding up my body and I’m afraid to lock out the elbow because of what might happen, it becomes more scary.
The class was fun and it was exercise, something which I haven’t had any of since I ran the last marathon in November. I’m not sure if I’ll join the class again, but since it happens at the same time as my children’s lesson, I just might.
On the ride home my children told me I was going to have to play with them this time because I wasn’t on the phone. The game turned out to be Simon Says. They have played enough to know there are certain things the driver can and can’t do. For instance I can scratch my nose, but I can’t close my eyes.
I did a few things and then when requested, I raised my hands and immediately heard my daughter shout, “you’re out!” And I was, because there wasn’t a “Simon says” preceding the hands up request. What surprised me was that my daughter could see me put my hands up in the twilight light from the back seat.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Red Pepper Advice: My husband made dinner tonight including some red peppers. My daughter was initially very upset because she said they were spicy. We explained that it wasn’t the spicy part, but the red flesh part that she liked a lot. She wasn’t happy at all and used some words not allowed like “disgusting” and “yucky”. That, coupled with an overall cranky attitude and she got herself sent to her room for an attitude adjustment. Once she’d calmed down and was back she still said she didn’t like the red pepper taste. My son said, “let me give you a tip, don’t pay any attention to the taste.”
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