Could I possibly run away and join the circus?

One of the first things on my newly single adventure was sign up for a Trapeze class. It seemed fitting after all. The past year couldn’t have been filled with anymore ups and downs and my grandmother used to tell me about her cousin that had run away and joined the circus, so maybe it was in my genes right?

I signed up for the class not knowing what to expect. When I called in and registered, I asked how old the average participant was. I was told the average age was 20’s to 30’s. I was sold. I was excited for my first class. I already had visions of outfits I’d wear and planning ahead to a future as a trapeze artist on the Cirque de Soleil circuit.

The class was in an old school gym. It was a circus school. Prior to googling trapeze classes, I had no idea such a place existed. But there it was. A high school gym full of unicycles, trampolines, silks and a trapeze set up. In my mind, a trapeze was where you swung from one trapeze to another and did it all with elegance and grace. There were 4 people in my class. 3 13 year old girls and I. Needless to say, I already felt out of my element and I hadn’t even climbed onto the trapeze yet. The 3 girls were BFF’s and had been taking trapeze lessons for over a year. I’m not lying when I say they were about one step away from auditioning from Cirque de Soleil. The first girl gets hoisted up onto the trapeze. She starts swinging. She does these amazing graceful swings, let her hands go, dangles upside down, pulls herself back up and proceeds to gracefully climb 8 feet up the ropes of the trapeze. Yeah. Definitely out of my element. I’m about as old as their mother, weigh about 60lbs more and I can barely touch my toes. I break out in a cold sweat. Finally it’s my turn to climb the trapeze. I’m aware of the absurdity of the situation. I’m easily the oldest and clumsiest person in the gym. I start swinging with the guidance of the coach. I do as I’m told and let go of the ropes being held by nothing but my ankles wrapped around the ropes. It is an amazing and exhilarating feeling. I get down high from adrenaline and told to practice on the low trapeze. The 3 13 year olds are giving me pointers on how to pull yourself up, how to do a “bridge” on the ropes and how to climb 6 feet up the ropes. It’s clear I shouldn’t give up my day job anytime soon.

As I’m resting my bleeding toe and blistered hands, one of the coaches comes up and talks to me. He happens to be hot and about ten years younger than me. He starts chatting me up (I have no illusions this is a flirtation but rather a curiosity since I’m by far the oldest person here) He asks me what brought me here. It took all I had not to deadpan to him and say “Well, my husband left me so I thought it would be great idea to take trapeze lessons so I could run away and join the circus” I’m pretty sure he would have thought I was nuts. So I just smiled and said “it’s just something I’ve always wanted to do” Clearly I was never meant to be a trapeze artist. But my love of heights and speed made me try it and I’m glad I did. I’m sure those 3 13 year old girls will do amazing in the Cirque De Soleil, but I think I’ll stick to my day job…