No I wasn’t subjected to a pre-pubescent slumber party nor a mid-week Pinot-infused mothers meeting. It was a ‘Girls Night In’ though not in the sense you might first expect. It didn’t involve consuming the entire block of chocolate nor emptying the box of tissues. Exercise was enabling a sense of flow and the release of positive endorphins, and no we weren’t at an impersonalised gym class paining ourselves with uniformed exercises.
Bonding over our mutual love for the mountains and sliding down them (either on one or two planks). Girls’ Night In, hosted at SITE Trampoline was the perfect introduction (for some) to spins and grabs and for others a bit of fine tuning, turning habitual backflips into wild-cats.
Cast over 3 weeks, it was on our first meeting I had 12 like-minded and incredibly eager women sitting by one of the worlds few super tramps (my favourite trampoline) staring at me waiting for instruction. I felt the colour on my face fade to a harsh red as my boss and colleague (the people I usually look to for advice and coach alongside) took a step back… I was left with a very real slap in the face that this was day-dot of my dream job. The ice was broken over a hilarious relay through a foam pit, and after conquering the quicksand like conditions everyone was sufficiently out of breath and ready to escape gravity with recent strangers.
A week later and lights were set up over the mini ramp, skate shoes and roller-SKATES adorned. Don’t even think about mistaking them roller blades or you will get a sassy finger wave like you’ve never seen before. Some 360s turned into 540s and crash landings into a seamless sequence of front flips and tuck jumps, front flips and tuck jumps, then more front flips and tuck jumps.Starting the final week of our time together talking dates of the next ‘Girls Night In’ and avenues of up scaling and exciting collaborations. We had built progressively from the skills learnt in the previous two lessons, and the girls were able to acutely tailor their final hour and a half. Hence we began the ‘backflip mission’. By the time 9:30 hit, fear had withered away into skill and muscle memory, and bottles of water into fluorescent flutes of bubbles.
… and that was the end of the beginning, the beginning of new friendships and bigger goals. If for some reason you find yourself looking for any of these women and myself over the winter, you should probably get yourself up a mountain or into SITE.