It was my turn. I faced the mat as the instructor gave me an encouraging nod. I ran forward a few feet and threw myself headfirst onto the mat, tucking my neck down as I awkwardly rolled over in a somersault-like maneuver.
The instructor gave me a few pointers and I got back in line. I was going to need a lot more practice.
It was my first day of Parkour. I’d signed up for the class because I wanted to get better at body and spatial awareness. And besides, it looked totally fun and I was intrigued.
That first lesson was all about how to tuck and roll. We were going to be doing a lot of falling and it was important to know how to keep ourselves safe.
In other words, we were planning for failure.
“I’m slow” had been a mantra for me ever since I got into outdoor activities. I would be painfully aware that I was bringing up the rear, the slowest person on the trail (or in the pool, or on the road). I constantly feared I was holding my friends and companions back, so developed a habit of apologizing for being so slow. And worse, an excuse to not get out there at all in an effort to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment and incompetence.