For years I’ve lived under a delusion.
Namely, that I was good at jumping rope.
(Honestly, I seemed perfectly competent during a 45-second HIIT class segment.)
The quarantine, however, exposed how bad I was.
Under lockdown, as with everyone, my entire physical regime changed completely.
When I felt myself deeply missing the super-sweaty gym classes I used to enjoy, I turned to seriously jumping rope.
It seemed like a great idea.
Jumping rope is perhaps the most intensely efficient workout, burning more calories a minute than swimming or rowing, and still being relatively low-impact.
And…I could do it on my roof.
After some research, I decided to splurge and order a “serious” set of weighted ropes.
I got the set that was right for my height but when I tried them, quite frankly, it was a disaster.
Especially with the weighted ropes, the flaws in my jump rope technique were immediately exposed.
(Meaning, I was constantly tripping over myself.)
Fortunately, jump rope basics are something that’s particularly easy to learn on YouTube.
I immediately had an intellectual understanding of what I was doing wrong.
And yet, while an intellectual understanding is all well and good when it comes to exercise, obviously you have to get it into your body on an organic level.
In other words, the only way you can learn to jump rope (as with most things), is by actually doing it.
Unfortunately, since there’s no way to jump rope in my apartment, and the gyms are still closed, I had a large and captive audience for my learning curve.
Any even remotely sunny moment meant it was time for all my neighbors to socially distance on the roof, blithely enjoying themselves as I tripped over myself again and again and again.
(In case you’re wondering, I live in a Hipster Utopia where there’s a dog walk, a barbecue area, an organic garden, and even miniature golf on the roof––I swear I’m not making any of this up.)
Anyway, even though my neighbors seemed utterly disinterested, it still felt like an awkward series of public failures, in fact, a new one every 30 seconds.
And while you learn faster because a weighted rope “corrects” you more strongly, each mistake is like tripping over a garden hose.
(You know that feeling when you stumble and you’re more embarrassed than hurt, and just hope the conversation moves forward without addressing your mishap––that was pretty much my April exercise experience.)
But here’s the thing: it took only about 3, maybe 4, sessions before I “got it.”
The kinesthetics revealed themselves.
The stumbles became increasingly rare.
Soon, there were actually Zen-like moments where I became “One with the Rope.”
So…what’s the point of all this…?
It’s definitely not about your exercise regime.
My point is that I want to encourage you to be OK with your own learning curves.
To remind you that:
• It’s OK to be awkward and stumble.
• It’s OK to be embarrassed, especially about not knowing what to say right now with the difficult conversations we all need to have.
That’s why, to fully employ my jump rope metaphor, most importantly:
It’s OK to make mistakes, trip, get tangled up, and start over and over again.
Trust me: The rewards are worth it.
After two or three or four attempts, you might even find a sense of flow as I did.
(Just FYI: I’ve even mastered the Boxer’s Skip and Criss Cross.)
Most importantly, these conversations are really necessary.
No matter how awkward it is, it’s time to start listening and learning from each other.
Namaste for Now,
P.S. Free Meditations Always HERE.
(Almost Free) Yoga HERE.
And…if you just want to listen to my Jumprope Playlist…you can skip along with me metaphorically or literally, for Free HERE on Spotify.
