I WANT to get something out into the open. A long time ago, my 7-year-old self had an accident involving a trampoline.
What actually happened? Let’s just say I learnt the meaning of the term ‘face plant’ the hard way that fateful day. Ever since then I’ve strived to avoid trampolines, keeping my distance at all times. So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I entered the dance studio this week to begin two hours of introductory trampolining. I left wondering why I’d taken so long to get back on the trampoline; this was great.
When I entered the dance studio I was confronted by three of the largest trampolines I’d ever seen. Alice Collins, the trampolining society’s bubbly head coach, later revealed that just one of these monsters costs in excess of £4000. With the more experienced trampoliners easily reaching heights of fifteen feet, hanging for seconds in the air, I could see why.
Once the trampolines had been set up, Alice started to take me through the basics. Pointing to an ‘X’ in the centre of the trampoline, Alice instructed me to position myself there to jump and land, whilst focusing my eyes forwards at the wall in front of me at all times. “That way you won’t go flying off,” she happily informed me. As I laughed uneasily memories of the young Josh vs. trampoline wipe-out came flooding unwelcomingly back to me, and I realised landing on the ‘X’ was easier said than done.
Once I’d learnt that staring at my feet wasn’t working, I managed to achieve some level of control over where I was landing. Next up was practicing what is known as the ‘seat landing’. This involved me landing in a sitting position with back straight, hands facing palms down, and springing back into the air in one crisp movement. Flowing my seat landing was not however, and it was only on the tenth crack that I managed to avoid collapsing on my backside like a deflated balloon every time I attempted the manoeuvre. After this, inspired by my newfound ability to correctly angle the position of my bum when performing the seat landing, I managed to complete 180 and 360 degree rotations in the air. After twenty minutes of trampolining, and a rapidly inflated ego, I felt like somersaults were the next logical step. This ambition turned out to be slightly optimistic however. According to Alice, there’s “normally a year’s worth of training involved before someone attempts a somersault.”
“Oh,” I replied, “I guess I’ll save the somersaults for another time then.”
“Probably a wise idea.”
Exhaustion suddenly hitting me like a ton of bricks, I stepped down and turned my eyes to the other trampoliners. I was left stunned by what I saw: twisting and rotating gracefully through the air, their bodies unflimichingly composed as they were flung up to great heights time and time again, I struggled to look away. Using any and every part of their bodies to engineer a landing and bounce back up, it was impossible not to be impressed by this show of gravity-defying pyrotechnics.
With training three times a week at £1.50 a session, or just £15 a year, trampolining represents great value for money. Many of the members I met during my session have been trampolining for years, and have the instructor qualifications to boot. Trampolining involves a combination of incredible skill, coordination and athleticism. If you’re looking for a sport that is different and challenging, but above all else fun, trampolining is for you.