A Somersault Summer

So, you will need the back story for this post to make any sense, so bear with me while I explain. 

Last year I was invited to a friend’s house on the evening that her daughter attended prom. We took some photos and then sent the formally clad teens off for their evening of dinner and dance. After they left, we just talked in the living room and sipped wine. As we reminisced about our teen years conversations went to how we “used to do this” and we “used to do that.” I was the oldest individual in the room by 1 – 2 decades so I easily admitted that I used to be able to do a cartwheel, but I now have conceded that those days are behind me. I vividly remembered the last time I did one when the reality that my arms can no longer support the weight of my body made me declare that it was my last one. While sharing my story, I could see the wheels turning (while the wine was draining from her cup) in a friend’s mind. She is about 12 years younger than me and she was certain she could still lead with her arms and follow with her feet in a cartwheel. She did, indeed, prove to us that she could and she pulled a hamstring in the process. We got a good laugh out of the evening’s stunts and conversation and said we’d practice before the next prom rolled around.

Eleven Months Later: Knowing prom would be coming up and while reading Aging with Grace for book club, I decided that I should probably try to train for a stunt for prom night. I knew a Cartwheel would never happen, but maybe I could do a front roll, aka Somersault, with flare. In my mind, I was going to make this roll crisp, clean, and worthy of an Olympic score of at least a 9.4. I had hopes of performing this stunt while these younger moms sat on the couch holding up their dry erase boards with their scores of 9.2, 8.7, and maybe even a generous 9.8! However, I knew to accomplish these scores, I would need to practice at home. 

With a great attitude, I headed to my carpeted living room floor. I crouched down and put my body in a tight ball. I pondered. I paused. I was surprised that I was apprehensive about actually putting my head to the floor and rolling. I had not considered that my body would stop and seriously consider how this would go. Head down, a kick-off the couch and I flopped to my back. The room spun, I felt nauseous and I started sweating. Wow. I hadn’t expected that! Apparently, the heart medication I had taken lowered my blood pressure enough to make me feel as dizzy as if I had been hung by my feet on one of those flying swing rides at an amusement park and swung around and around. UGH! “I can’t do a front roll?!?! When did this happen?” Being too old to do a front roll did not sit well with me. BUT, I had to accept the fact that that day was not the day to prove it. I waited and a few days later (without heart medication) I did my second attempt. Back to the living room, crouched down, ready to roll. Head to the floor, push off the couch, crack, crack, crack. The neck cracking sounds were audible to my 15-year-old daughter even above her laughter. Flat on my back, I lay wondering if I had done any permanent damage or if I indeed might still be able to walk after this attempt. Slowly, I arose and went about my day doing what people my age are supposed to do with their day. (Apparently not a front roll.) The following day, my chiropractor assured me that a front roll is not a life skill that I need and that I should probably not do it again. I lamented that I was certain that women older than me could still perform this fete and while shaking his head, he just said he didn’t think it was something I needed. Keep in mind he’s interested in my physical health more than my mental health! There is a part of me that still feels I need to do this.

At the time of this writing, I have stuck with only the two attempts. My friend’s daughter didn’t go to prom this year, so we didn’t gather at her house and I didn’t have to feel old or left out when they tried their stunts. We’ve joked about training for next year and I shared the story of my failed attempts and we laughed and laughed.

Each time I’ve shared the story, though, I’ve posed the question, “Do you think you can still do a front roll?” Everyone believes they can and maybe they can. I have received two videos of friends proving they can. However, I also think many people think they can and then they are as surprised as I was to realize that at some point in our adult lives, we’ve lost the muscle memory of how to do that simple gymnastic stunt. We don’t know when it happened, but it did. This experience has made me curious about what else I might not be able to do. What have I forgotten or what am I incapable of doing simply because at some point I stopped doing it? Can I still hula hoop? What about playing Jacks? Can I recite the alphabet backward? How long can I freeze during freeze tag?

I’m declaring this a somersault summer. I am going to try to do some things that I’ve forgotten even existed and I challenge you to do the same. What would you like to see if you could still do? I have a sneaky suspicion that like my book club attendees, you will now quietly sneak into your empty living room, crouch down, and roll. Feel free to send me pictures or let me know how it goes. As for me, I may heed my chiropractor’s advice and not attempt a roll again. Thank goodness my kids got me a flaming baton for my birthday a couple of years ago, so I will have something safer to attempt!