Punk Rope

Punk Rope Team Photo

A few weeks ago I joined a competitive jump rope team. Technically, it's a Punk Rope team. Punk Rope is this new thing, invented by this guy Tim, and you can take classes at the Y here.

I did not, however, hear about Punk Rope from my local Y. I haven't been to the gym in months. I heard about it from my coworker Amy, who was desperate to find a fourth person so her team could compete in the 3rd Annual Punk Rope Games. I am in no way qualified to compete on any kind of athletic team, but I have a certain enthusiasm for obscure sports, (evidenced by my single minded mastery of the hackie sack, the devil sticks, and break dancing). After a few days no one else had stepped up. I was in!

Two weeks before the games we had our first practice. We all met at Cooper Park in Williamsburg to run through the events. Our team members were Rich and Shaunette, a married couple with a lot of tattoos. Looking around, that seemed to be the primary difference between the punk ropers and my high school soccer team: tattoos.

As practice went on, another difference emerged: most of these people didn't seem to be very athletic. If you looked beyond their punk rope prowess, I was willing to bet that these were people who were really good at painting, or playing the guitar. My suspicions were confirmed when I started jumping rope, for, possibly, the first time in 10 years, and Shaunette said something like, "Wow, that's really good, it took us weeks to do it like that!" Probably she was just being nice, pumping up her new teammate, but I've decided to take that comment at face value.

Let me be clear: Everyone on that field was in better shape than me. I was the only person who literally peed my pants after attempting the Double Unders. (I know this because i said, "oh, wow, I just peed my pants. A lot." and instead of commiseration my teammates just stared at me.) Furthermore, I am not one of those people who excels at art or cooking, and I downright suck at decorating. After years of playing the guitar, I continue to be mediocre. But I've always had a knack for anything physical, anything requiring balance or coordination. I've always been a jock.

I figured our team had a shot at gold.

Our team name was the Unstoppable Mysterians, and the majority of our two weeks of preparation was devoted to designing our costumes. We decided against a cape, for practical reasons. We made liberal use of silver glitter glue, duck tape, and metal studs. Shaunette designed a back patch and bought us all flaming sunglasses. I provided wrist bands. We each chose names. Mine was Deus ex Machina. If you're wondering what that means, it's a literary term for a ridiculous plot device, where a god like figure swoops in at the last minute and saves the day.

I was feeling confident.

Confidence Boosting Back Patches

My individual event was the Double Unders, and I worked hard at mastering them. At first I could only do three or four in a row, but after a week I could do twenty in a row. After a set of 20 I literally collapsed on the ground and had to change my shorts, but still, it was progress.

During the games I was full of nervous energy. Before the Double Unders I felt jittery and full of adrenaline. There were 13 other teams and I had to place in the top four to win points for my fellow Mysterians. I started jumping and felt calm and focused. The timer called out 15 seconds and I barely felt tired. I tripped up once but recovered quickly. I closed my eyes. I was in The Zone. They called time and I could have kept going. I was so amped. I wanted to do it again! I knew I'd made the top four!

I didn't make the top four. I cant be sure, but I think I was number five. The point is that sometimes, no matter how hard you try and how gifted you are, and how many ridiculous obstacles you overcome, you still won't win. You will come home disappointed, and comfort yourself by strumming some melancholy guitar chords, and your husband, who vowed to always support you, will tell you to knock it off because he already has a headache. Sometimes you will feel like you're just not good at anything.

At times like these, it is a good idea to remind yourself that you are in fact good at something. If you no longer own any devil sticks and don't have the energy for donkey kicks, grab your hackey sack, go outside and have a sesh.

Mysterians in action: Rich and Shaunette jump The Twins