Gay Guy at the End of His (Jump) Rope

Straight Guy,

Our readers really enjoyed your Oct. 5 post about that maniacal jump roping team. The video got a bunch of hits.

I've just experienced my own jump rope story. Maniacal, just not choreographed. I worked out with my trainer, who is trying to add more intense cardio to my routine. You can guess where this story is going . . .

She handed me a jump rope and set me to task.

It was an unmitigated disaster. First off, it wasn't a rope at all, but a series of linked plastic tubes. Like pieces of plastic penne. It didn't handle well at all.

As I already knew, I am just not coordinated enough to jump rope. After whistling around my ears, it slapped the floor with a thwack. Another thwack. Then more thwacks. So, I shortened the rope and my swing, then ended up jumping too high, instead of just stepping over it. I was a mess. Eventually, my trainer just took it away from me, with an "Uhmmm, maybe we'll just try this again later."

Yeah, later. Later, when I don't put the whole gym into a surgical and legal risk. I must have been bad, since my trainer never lets me quit anything before it's done to her satisfaction.

I'm okay with my defeat. Though when I see guys who are really good at jumping rope, natural and easy, I'm in awe.

So, back to the trainer issue. You know I've been working out with a trainer for a while. Though I usually call her "the woman I work out with." I have trouble saying the word "trainer." I can't connect that word to me. "Trainers" work with athletes, and that is not what I am. I've advanced quite some bit since my childhood of picked last for basketball, baseball, football . . . curse of the gay guy.

I dreaded gym class, but I now I finally feel like the gym is a place that I belong, not a place where I am an outsider. I've grown a lot more comfortable and confident of my physical self, finally.

--Gay Guy