Flying Squirrel

So I promised NoDak Mark I would blog about my adventures from last Friday, November 18th. This was the day of our annual office retreat in which we did all sorts of team building activities. We travelled off campus to another college campus who had a department which focused on corporate team building programs.

The morning was spent with flow charts and sniffable markers - I favored the black licorice smelling one. Mmmmmm, Ouzo. Then we broke up into teams and built bridges from newspaper and masking tape, strong enough to hold a gallon of water. We also made a historical chart of the progresses our office has made in the last ten years. We bonded. We bickered. We laughed.

After lunch, we moved to the Fieldhouse and participated in a low ropes course. Again, more team building but this time, we had to physically challenge ourselves, safely of course. I had a blast. We had to climb stairs that were wide enough for only one foot - blindfolded, relying on our teammates to catch us should we fall. We had to move the "cup of life" across a volcanic pit by way of swinging on a rope and landing on a platform, while the entire group had to remain on the platform at all times. And then we participated in the Flying Squirrel. You put on your harness, strapped yourself to a pully, placed a red helmet on your head and allowed your teammates to hoist you 75 feet up into the rafters. You were suspended there by a few trusting souls. It was fun. And scary, especially if you are like me and afraid of heights. But regardless, I trusted my coworkers, allowing them to pull me up in the air as a screamed like a fool and held onto my head. I don't know why I did that other than I felt the need to hang on to something and the only thing I could hold onto was my red helmet! (yeah, picture that, it's exactly what you are thinking.)

It was a great time and I'd do it again. That evening, when I arrived home, I stepped once again out of my element and went to our local YMCA and played basketball with my husband and son. Sure, I played ball back in the day, but I've aged since then, and I'm not exactly my limber 16 year old self anymore - and I did this in front of a lot of people. My experiences earlier in the day gave me the gumption to do this, and I had fun, and I didn't care if I looked stupid.

Then I took it even further and took my 7 year old ROLLER SKATING on Sunday afternoon. I laced up my skates and hit the floor with wild abandon, laughing hard at my wobbly legs and unsure footing. After an hour I was out there boogying to Gwen Stefani, The Pussycat Dolls and Gorillaz' Feel Good Inc.

And I didn't fall down. Until....

...the last 15 minutes of "open skate", I was cut off by a little peanut, this kid no taller than 3 feet, who was weaving in and out of the "oval flow of skaters" and in my attempt to avoid crushing him, I spun around backwards (a feat I dared not attempt earlier) and almost had it, until I lost my balance and went down, hard. My knees took the brunt of the fall, but then I got a face full of floor too. It wasn't pretty, but it sure was funny. See my previous posts about falling. I love seeing people fall. I was the star, baby, the star. I entertained quite a few adults with that move, not to mention a few snot-nosed kids who disrespected their elders by laughing. It was a good time, and I'm going to do it again. Who knew roller skating was such good exercise?

And as a result, I saw into the future. There were sure a lot of future mobile home owners of northeast Ohio there. It was a vision.

Good times, people, good times.