Lady and the Trampoline Park

Going from Weight to Weightless

I lost 100 pounds and found my inner 8-year-old at a trampoline park.

That weight. Ugh, I’m still not used to seeing the number. It’s shocking to me in 2 ways. One, I never thought I’d have that much to lose. 15 or 20, sure. But it scaled up gradually then kind of sped up. Then, once I finally accepted that situation… and tried and failed several million times to change it… I didn't think I could ever actually lose it. And frankly who knows if it’ll stay off. Weight is a nasty boomerang. But for today, I’m in a good spot. I got here with a lot of stops and trys. I stopped eating all the foods I couldn't stop eating. And I tried a lot of movement.

I got gym curious.

I used to hate exercise. Turns out, when fun, physical movement is ingrained with "Hey, lose weight so boys will like you” it's not fun at all. I associated it with punishment for so long. I was “bad” (the crime of eating!) and then I HAD to do some physical thing to fix it (me!).

Years ago, a holistic nutritionist asked, "What exercise do you like?" I was baffled. Is that even something you can like? I thought it was like taxes, just some thing you had to do. But it set me on a decades-long road of trying to find out—what exercises do I like?

During lockdown we lived down the street from a little park with a basketball court. I started shooting baskets and discovered that my sense of fun hasn't developed much past 7th grade. But to be honest, I didn't even do that in 7th grade. I would have been embarrassed. I was too body conscious to be body curious. But as an elder, I quickly became the middle age lady Michael Jordan of the Silverado HOA.

Feeling cocky on the court.

Later I got an Oculus and did virtual reality boxing. Just to cement my place in 7th grade fun.

Eventually I joined Active & Fit. One fee lets you join every branch of several gyms. So for $28/month, I suddenly belonged to, like, 10,000 gyms. I liked this because it made me feel rich. I was lousy with abundance of moving around opportunities! And that’s when I got gym-curious.

In the past, I’d join a gym and for some reason think I was a semi-pro athlete. I’d imagine hitting it every morning at 5 am and working with a trainer, or maybe 2 or 3, and maybe even becoming one! But this time I didn’t. Instead of becoming a Zumba-head or trying to be that chick reading a book on the stairmaster for 45 minutes, I gave myself permission just to TRY STUFF. And I did try about 25 different classes.

For each class, I had 3 rules:

1. Try it just to see

2. You can half-ass it

3. If you hate it, you never have to go back

Turns out I love one certain aerobic weightlifting class at Gold’s. And any spin class enjoyment is extremely music-dependent for me. For a year I did water aerobics with my friend Michelle all over LA. We found instructors and people in class to make fun of everywhere we went. It was great. My body kept changing without me trying to force progress. That weightlifting class that used to be the hardest thing in the world became, like, the 9th hardest thing. Progress!

A couple months ago, my friend Dave visited me. He has two young boys and kept saying, "I can't believe how close you live to Sky Zone!" That’s a trampoline park. I'd been once for a friend's ironic middle-aged birthday party, but otherwise never thought about it. Dave kept mentioning it, "You should go!"

I had 2 issues. It costs $40. And I’m old. He explained that the day pass costs about the same as a monthly subscription. "Just sign up for a month, go a bunch of times, then cancel," he said. He didn’t have a plan for the me-being-old part.

I used to love to jump on trampolines. My Aunt Thee and Uncle Dale lived by a lake and had one. You could swim in the lake then dry off by jumping around. Heaven! But now…won’t this hurt my neck? And all the other places?

There was only one way to find out. I signed up.

I felt bold deciding to do it. Then when I actually did it, I felt dumb. The “it’s my first job ever” teen behind the counter kept looking for a kid to show up behind me, and saying what the price is for kids, and that “their adults” can get this cool membership add-on. You might think lots of different age people go to trampoline parks for exercise. You'd be wrong. One age group goes: children. Anyone 40-plus is a watcher, not a jumper.

I went in May, before schools let out, ideally to avoid as many kids as possible. I went as soon as it opened. Same reason. I was really trying to avoid any and all instances of creep.

A downside of being older when your sense of fun never developed past 7th grade, is that you might look like a weirdo. But a perk of getting older is you lose certain hormones. I forget the name of the hormone that makes you give a f*ck, but I stopped making that a few years ago. And this gift allowed me to proceed.

I had modest goals. The main goal was just to try it and see if I liked it. But since I paid, I mean, I wanted to get my money’s worth. So I went for this: go twice a week, and jump for at least 10 minutes each time. That’d be 80 minutes of jumping vs non-jumping minutes. That’s got to do some good, right? Also, I believe in setting achievable goals. In fact, set goals that are less than what you think you can do. Ie, AIM LOW.

Sky Zone is a giant warehouse with several trampoline areas. There’s the big open space with about 50 trampolines sewn together, a dodgeball area, a zipline, a rock wall, and a trampoline basketball court where I knew I'd dominate thanks to my prior Silverado HOA experience.

There was also a forgotten corner—just four trampolines sewn together next to a giant foam pad. I started jumping there, facing the wall. I didn't even know what to do. I just jumped. And counted. Then I just started doing stuff. Jumping and touching my toes. Air splits. Banana jump. Landing on my butt and bouncing up. It was FUN. I think a few times I audibly said, “Wheeee!” Though I wasn’t close enough to anyone to hear me, I think it still counts.

I transformed. I walked in an embarrassed middle-aged lady, started jumping on a trampoline, and became 8 years old again. I was like Wilford Brimley in "Cocoon" You never grow old. You never die. But you might twist your ankle so be careful on the dismount. In the air, I was back at my cousins' house with Aunt Thee and Uncle Dale, at their trampoline and lake paradise.

I tried everything—the ninja warrior thing (not great at it), the rock wall (even worse at it), and the weird aerial hammock thing (don’t get it). I developed a little a routine. I’d jump in the private-ish little section, then do basketball, then then jump across the big section. Then do it all again.

I didn't go 8 times. I went 7. I was going to go one more time and realized my month had run out. That’s where they get ‘cha! I can hear my dad yell from Beyond. Like a weirdo, I logged all my trips. Turns out I didn't jump my intended 80 minutes. I jumped closer to 120 minutes. AIMING LOW WORKS AGAIN! And each visit came to about $7, so I feel fiscally healthy as well.

What's great about trampolines is for a few moments, you're flying. I was just IN THE AIR. And for me, who’s had so much pain around weight for so long, I got to thoroughly enjoy being weightless.