She’d fly through the air with the greatest unease. Trapeze!

I’m not entirely sure why I sign up for blog activities like this, Jarrod. Because I’m not a daredevil by nature. Honestly, my spirit animal is a barnacle. I like being stationary, safe, and having as much of my body in contact with a supporting surface as is socially acceptable at any given time.

But…. I also love me a bargain, and when I see on Groupon that I can get two trapeze experiences for the price of one, I descend into some sort of Value For Money Trance and before I know it, I’ve logged in, added to cart, been directed to Paypal and re-emerged, blinking at a receipt and asking myself what the hell I’ve just done.

Now at this point I need to insert a disclaimer: this blog is about a trapeze experience but it will contain NO, I repeat NO references to the Sex And The City episode where Carrie does trapeze. Anyone hoping for metaphors where trapeze = how you conduct yourself in relationships/love should just go and watch the bloody episode. (This is either an apology or a selling point, depending on your view of the show).

The Trapeze experience is at Fly Factory in Blackburn, Melbourne and you can get all the information you need from their website: http://www.flyfactory.com.au/

My partner in crime this week is my darling sister Cait. I shoot her a message asking if wants to join me and maybe she’s having a day where the kids are being particularly feral, because she pings back within seconds saying she’s keen as anything to run away and join the circus, and this is her big chance to see if she can apply for a position other than Bearded Lady.

The big day approaches and we get an email reminding us to sign on and complete an on line waiver form. I ignore the quavery wailings of Super Cautious Megan as I tick boxes authorizing transport via ambulance to the nearest hospital should I be in a position where I can’t give consent.

I need to stop signing up for activities that involve waivers. Waivers and carabiners.

Cait’s husband and two daughters accompany us on the day, along with our mum (and chief photographer) Collie. Any illusions I’m harbouring that they’re going to function as a cheersquad are immediately quashed when one of the girls watches an instructor flying 10m overhead, turns to us, looks us both up and down and says sagely “This is going to be hilarious!”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

We mill about waiting for the rest of the group and my sense of panic increases. The other participants all arrive in Active Wear, looking very much like they’ve just come from a photo shoot for the latest Rebel Sport catalogue. Whereas Cait and I have the relatively soft, non-muscular form of those individuals who wear our Active Wear for particularly gruelling brunches.

The instructors don our safety belts and pull them so tight that I actually experience a past life regression to being an 1800’s woman in a corset, with all my internal organs welded into a single homogenous lump. But if said belt is going to save my life, having my lungs fused permanently to my lower intestines is a small price to pay.

One new hourglass figure, complimented by a dead eyed, anxious smile

We are taken through some warm up stretches and the basics as to how we’re going to leap forward off the platform on the word HUP. Collie observes that I’m already looking utterly terrified. Just jumping forward about half a metre. At ground zero

Then it’s time for a trial run on the training bar, where I confront my first hurdle. I had forgotten how utterly abysmal my upper body strength is. The effort of maintaining a grip to just HANG is a challenge, but I manage it. Now, if only all I had to conquer was just dangling there, inert. No. Got to hook ones legs over the bar. I practice swinging my legs back and forward, the goal being to tuck my legs neatly under the bar, to finish hanging upside down with my arms swinging freely.

If this picture had a sound file, it would be frustrated grunting

Fail. Apparently all my anticipatory curling into the fetal position and whimpering in the lead up to the day has NOT afforded me the hip flexibility I’d expected. I have to do a special adaptive legs up whereby I kick my legs out to the side, around my hands and over the bar. I’m already the special needs trapeze girl and I haven’t even set foot on the ladder yet.

Ungainly is my middle name…

First go on from the actual platform which is about 7m high. I attach my safety belt to the little carabiner and begin ascending the ladder. Literally one rung at a time with deep breaths in between each step. The intro experience only lasts a little over two hours and I’m sure the people behind me are wondering if I’m going to eat up the entire session time just getting to the platform.

Really, really, really bloody scared.

I finally reach the top and the lovely instructor Lisa is up there to meet me, delivering some much needed reassuring words. She hands me a chalk block for my sweaty hands and tells me I can use as much as I want, and I virtually whittle it down to a mere needle. She clips me into the safety lines, all the while encouraging and calming and keeping my wildly escalating adrenaline in check. (Honestly, if she ever stops doing this line of work she would be a fabulous hostage negotiator….) I’m coaxed to the edge of the platform when I reach for the bar with one hand, then two. I lean forward with her holding the safety belt and wait for the call.

She calls HUP.

My brain responds NUP.

I remain frozen atop the platform. My brain is racing with sequelae. I can’t jump forward, my puny arms won’t support my body weight. But eventually I do it. It’s less of a jump and more an ungainly lurch off the platform but here it is. Do I triumph? Here’s the video: you be the judge.

No. I don’t even come close to getting my legs up and then having failed, I can’t bear to let go and drop down to the net either. Frankly, had I the strength to do so I would have hung there till I fused to the bar like a stalactite. Cait has her first go and doesn’t fare much better.

Fortunately our shambolic first attempts aren’t the end of proceedings because we get five goes in total, incorporating something new/more complex each time. I cannot speak highly enough of the instructors at Fly Factory. They’re unfailingly patient, incredibly encouraging, and really adapt beautifully to the abilities and stress levels of each participant. Which is no mean feat when you are dealing with a group of twelve people with very different levels of strength, flexibility, agility and confidence.

Second go, I still don’t get my legs up and neither does Cait.

Third go, yet again I don’t get my legs up and over the bar but I do manage to accomplish the somersault in the air on release to land down on the mat. I can’t get out of my head, I know I’m overthinking things, rushing and not doing what was advised which is to just stop thinking and listen for the instructions. I’m frustrated and annoyed at myself and flop sulkily onto the bench.

At which point, Cait has her third attempt, and reveals some genuine true grit.

My little sister, the steeliest I’ve ever seen her x

On the cry of “LEGS UP!” she kicks her legs up and forward, and manages to snag just her right big toe on the bar. One toe.

Don’t. Give. Up!

And rather than going “damn, almost got it” she doesn’t let go. She’s like the T-1000 in Terminator in that chase scene when he gets one hook into the car and gradually *chink*….works….. *chink*….his way…. *chink* up onto the back of the car. She swings back and forth, back and forth, gradually clawing another toe on, then another, then over the bar, finally threading over her lower legs. And our entire group lets out a cheer as she hangs upside down with her arms swinging freely. I couldn’t be prouder 🙂

Thus inspired, on the fourth go I finally, finally get my legs over the bar and manage a hang upside down.

It’s not pretty- but…..

FINALLY!!!!!

Then it’s time for the fifth and final jump where we’re going for a catch. One of the instructors on an opposite trapeze will be calling the jump, and we absolutely won’t be able to hesitate because it’s a one shot only affair. We have to jump on the HUP, get our legs over on the first back swing, and have our arms out reaching for the catch.

And this, my friends, is the result:

Let’s relive a couple of stills from that because quite honestly, I just want to bask in it!

The stretch

The Catch!

The Absolute Shock

Face of sheer glee

All in all Jarrod, Cait and I had an unforgettable morning, one of those days that we’ve been talking about all week. I simply cannot recommend this experience highly enough. Book it, go with a friend, go with a group of friends. You’ll definitely extend yourself but you’ll feel absolutely unbelievable having done so.

I’m well and truly sold on it, but as always, Jarrod, I’m throwing to you and any readers for a verdict. The Trapeze experience at Fly Factory – Jarrod, would you go there?