ThroopThroopThroopThroop…

There’s a rhythm. Once
they’ve finally stopped tripping over the rope. the only thing keeping
a healthy person from using it to burn calories and build stamina is an
irrational fear of the rhythm. Keep it going and you are golden.

ThroopThroopThroopThroop… thwick.

My rope is too long. I bought it at a Target in bumfuck
with a Christmas gift card. Grabbed the cheapest one I could find. But
it’s too light, too. The danged thang hangs out above my head as I try
to turn the it ’round frontways. Someone suggested I weight the thing
with tape, but that’s seems too awkward and way more preparation effort
than should go into so da-da
an exercise. So far, I’m gutting it out, working through the fact that
my rope is behind the beat, something that’s great if you’re trying to
play in-the-pocket R&B. But not so much if what you’re seeking is
cardiovascular exercise.

After a season of overindulgence that
began on Thanksgiving and ended Monday night, I’m re-upping for
exercise. To be more precise, I’m re-tooling. Finally, the commitment
to cardio workout feels concrete and the rhythm of the rope is a big
part of this. Often overlooked as the stuff of childhood, jumping rope works
enough aspects of the body to seem a minor revelation. Jarring enough
that a cat with joints as craggy as mine must carefully limit its
amounts — or at least invest in solid sneakers — the activity functions
well as a supplement to the gym and my ancillary home workouts.

ThroopThroopThroopThroop…

I showed my sons how to do this, but they didn’t quite pick it up. Footage of sweaty, focused boxers might be my newest program addition’s prevailing media image, but  jumping rope presently doesn’t transcend its little-girl thing.
The other night, on the way home from my local liquor store, I used
half a block to show the boys how girls would skip rope. My children
looked at Dad as if he was insane. “Really?” the six-year-old asked. Oh
yeah, I said. The big kid recalled that he had seen it in a movie once.
Or maybe in a cartoon.

ThroopThroopThroopThroop…

It won’t take the place of my new gym main squeeze, the elliptical cross-trainer,
or even, for that matter, dips in the pool. Still, while I’m shying
away from the bench press and such, there’s not much that beats my new
cheap toy. I’ve learned that it’s actually good for bones. Jumping rope
also improves coordination, and God knows I need more of that. Gimme a pair of good kicks and I’ll be ready to rock and roll. Behind the beat, of course.