For any ashtangi out there, you will understand the enormous import of the following statement:
I did my first actual sort of jumpback yesterday!!
That’s right, I actually lifted myself up from sitting, for a split second, long enough to squish my legs back through my arms and swing them back—and land, sploosh, underneath me—but then lift up again and shoot the legs out and straight back, boom, chatarunga, holy cow, I nearly cheered. Big eyes, I looked up at Luc and said, did you see that?
This will probably mean nothing to to all y’all non-ashtangis out there, sorry. But really, just take my word for it. The first several thousand times over the last year that I have tried this move, the jumpback, there has been no response from my body. I go to lift, and nothing. I mean, NOTHING. As in, go pick up the Empire State Building. Yeah right. I’ll get right on that.
But yesterday, I achieved the impossible. For a split second. But who cares! It has taken an entire year to get here, to that split-second lift, but I did it, I lifted the Empire State Building—er, I mean, my butt—and I jumped back.
Okay, it was a pitiful, pathetic, lame-ass jumpback, with a crashdown splashdown halfway through, but aren’t all first jumpbacks like this? Except for Paul, who did one the very first time I described it to him a year ago, blast him. Or Sophie, who said, “Oh, you mean this?” and did five beautiful jumpbacks in a row, plus handstands, she is such a prodigy.
But I don’t care! I’m a wimp and I’m proud of it, and maybe in another year, I’ll be doing those floaty jumpbacks that look so cool. Or just, you know, not landing halfway.
I did my first jumpback!
I’m so stoked!