Gold Medal Glitches-Part I

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, so did platform shoes.

The girls in my gym class took turns attempting to mount the balance beam in a Chinese split, a form of torture perfected in the Far East many years ago to punish women for attempting outlandish and dangerous feats like voting, or cooking meals that didn’t involve rice.

Nobody made it. Too timid, I thought, gauging the distance and velocity ratio with as much accuracy as I now figure my daily calorie intake; an amazing display of mental dexterity that explains why I wear tent dresses and stretchy pants today.

Two hops and a judicious lack of common sense later, my priorities underwent a drastic change as I reconsidered my strategy and position, both of which suddenly seemed to have tiny flaws I overlooked in my original calculations.

Hanging upside down from a balance beam isn’t much different from hanging upside down from the roof of a cave, except the bat hanging in the cave probably doesn’t have much to fear in the way of peer pressure. As my personal dignity trickled out my ear, and just before I hit the floor, I gave some thought to trying to figure out how to dismount gracefully without introducing wandering dust bunnies into my hairdo.

That was the moment when I realized that the closest I would come to Olympic gold would be to hang a Wheaties box on a ribbon around my neck.

Luckily the whole thing took place before the onset of teeming hordes of paparazzi or Funniest Home Videos. But the whole memory stirs my competitive spirit and inspires me to excel. Perhaps tonight I’ll try and find my toes.

I’ll need a large pile of safety mats, six rolls of gauze bandages, and a map.