In my never-ending quest to bring sexy back, I’ve been trying to incorporate some oldies but goodies in my workout routine. I still haven’t mastered the jumping jack, but to be honest, after my last humiliating attempt and fail at that childhood standard, I haven’t put much effort into it.
And recently, my fellow blogger, Elizabetcetera at da Vinci Total Hysterectomy 2014, encouraged me to try jumping rope. She assured me the experience would not be at all similar to my experiences using the jump rope as a child. And she was absolutely correct.
I was able to jump rope, but half the time I couldn’t get both feet up off the ground fast enough and I ended up tripping on the rope with one foot while the other cleared it. And forget the continuous jump-bouncing of the past. Now I remember why teenage girls typically lose interest in jumping rope after going through puberty. Even with a sports bra on, my boobs kept trying to spring up and slap me in the face. Not cool, girls. Not cool at all.
I’d like to be all ‘I’m not a quitter,’ and tell you that I won’t stop until I master the beast, but the truth is that I am totally quitting this. I have no interest in doing that again, ever.