itty bitty upsy daisy

Another lesson with Max. This stunt bottom stuff is challenging, but educational and fun.

The photo is of the second lesson of the day. It has taken awhile to set up all the harnesses and “up lines” (the ones that run from the body up up up to a hard point of secure attachment somewhere above). I am already a little worn from the first lesson of the day, which was a partial suspension that had me first on tip-toes, then on one foot, then up, up, up and completely suspended.

But anyway. The second lesson.

One of the goals was to practice the “bridge” which is what you see there in the red ropes running upwards from my hip harness. See the three separate loops? These distribute the lift and allow the harness to be pulled upwards without collapsing all the wraps of the harness into just one row.

From the perspective inside the ropes, this is nice because the weight remains more evenly distributed, mitigating “hot spots” of pressure, which can be difficult to endure.

And from outside the ropes, the bridge helps keep things tidier, more beautiful. Some people don’t care so much about that, but I do.

The second goal of the lesson was to practice adjusting the up lines. This meant setting up the harnesses and up lines, and then raising me incrementally, bit by bit until I was well above the floor.

This was much more grueling than I’d anticipated. Granted, I was a little spent already, but as I write this I just realized the truly stressful element.

Every other suspension I have done involved a lift that made a rapid transition from my weight on the ground to my weight on the ropes. It might have been jarring or painful, but the shift happened pretty much all at once, and then I settled into the sensations.

But in this lesson the lift was slow. Each line was hoisted some, tied off, and then the next line was hoisted–until all four lines had been raised. Then the pattern was repeated, lifting me higher and higher above the ground.

This incremental hoisting caused my weight to be shifted repeatedly, bearing down in a new way with each lift. In retrospect I estimate there were a dozen or more separate hoists.

Each of these times I had to meet the sensations anew–at each of the four rope-points on my body–find my relationship to the rope, meet new pieces of pain.

And I think this need to repeatedly establish my relationship to the ropes is what ultimately made this session taxing.

Interesting.

Photo of me, by Max