We trampolined like teenagers.

The Olympics have had a lot of fascinating influence in my life this year.

For example, I now watch television from 7-11pm every night.

Also, I have the television on during the day while I’m “working” and I put “working” in quotes because I did a fraction of the amount of “work” I should have done last week thanks to the Olympics on television all the live-long day.

I’m a sports-lovin’ gal. What can I say.

[Apparently I’m also a poverty-lovin’ gal because if I keep up this lifestyle, I will no longer have income.]

If the Olympics were longer than two weeks, I would have to throw my television in the trash.

Not to mention, I can’t even deal with the spoilers that happen to me EVERY DAY. It breaks my competitive heart every time.

And in all of the Olympic excitement and whoo-haa, a crew of us decided to head to Sky High Sports on Sunday, a super fun trampoline park, to practice our own gymnastics moves. What that means is this: you pay to jump in a room full of trampolines. Oh, and they have dodgeball. And they have a place where you can jump from a trampoline into a foam pit.

I’ll tell you real quick how that foam pit situation went for me. I jumped in the pit, no worries. Getting out, on the other hand, was panic and sweat inducing. I could not, for the life of me, get my feet UNDER my body because it was just all these foam cubes around me. So it took me some extra time and they had to bring in a crane.

[No they didn’t. But I truly wish they had.]

Even writing about it, no kidding, is making my stomach hurt with nerves because I feel panicked about not being about to get out of said foam pit.

Moving on.

We jumped and laughed for a good solid hour, just a handful of 30-somethings playing around like we were 17.

You know what isn’t 17?


We spent Sunday afternoon bouncing from trampoline to trampoline [everything that is blue in the photo below is trampoline and jumpable], back-flipping like nobody’s business, racing, flinging our bodies around like we were bags of flour.

You know what isn’t a bag of flour?


Afterwards, we went to Sonic. Because a diet cherry limeade heals all that ails you. Almost.

Because Monday was still full of text messages like this:

“Man, how sore are you?”

“I think I sprained my ankle.”

“I can’t lift my arms above my head.”

“I think I hurt a muscle I didn’t know existed.”

No kidding. Those are real, y’all. Real comments from people in their 30s who spent one solid hour jumping on trampolines.

Will we do it again?


[PS- I was NOT paid by Sky High Sports to write this. We just had a blast so I thought I’d tell you. Also, forgive my red face in this pic. But don’t forgive Dave Barnes for bouncing in the back because that is hilarious.]

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