COLUMN: Jump for a cause, wake up your neighbor
Jump ropes are for girls… or so I thought.
I’ve never quite understood just why jump ropes have been stereotyped as being only for girls. In elementary school, girls could be found on the blacktop every recess swinging one of those plastic jump ropes and chanting some strange rhyme about Cinderella dressed in yella, meeting some unlucky fella who lived in a cella (female slang for castle – go figure).
At that age I didn’t pay any attention to the random habits of girls. All I knew was if I was caught holding the handle of a jump rope with a group of girls, I was done for. No amount of watching ESPN or spitting sunflower seeds would make up for that. As far as I was concerned, jump ropes were only good for rigging up some poor soul’s backpack on top of the tall basketball hoops. Don’t ask how I know this; I don’t want to talk about it.
Over time, elementary school girls learned a new use for the jump rope: torturing their male counterparts. I can remember running away from jump rope-twirling girls as they tried to tie all the boys to the poles of playground equipment. Sadly at this point in my life, girls were considerably taller and stronger than me and could accomplish this task.
I can still remember standing there as all the girls ran back to class after the whistle blew signaling the end of recess, thinking, “I’m going to die here. They didn’t even leave me a sandwich. Maybe if I would have jump roped with them at least once they wouldn’t have done this to me.”
As time went on I avoided jump ropes like the plague. They weren’t good for anything. Besides, I was starting to get good at football and basketball. Those were much more manly sports anyway.
I think it was about this time in my life I learned that many professional athletes participate in so-called “girly” activities like ballet, gymnastics and even jump roping. My confidence in the male world was effectively shattered. I vowed I wouldn’t succumb to that temptation though.
This vow lasted until about a year and a half ago. At that time I made a goal to exercise for a half hour every morning. Exercising for a half hour is not as easy as it sounds. I ran through all my pushups, crunches and jumping jacks in about 15 minutes. With another 15 minutes still remaining, I was left with the dilemma of figuring out what to do with myself. I knew running was definitely out of the question because I would still be passed out on the sidewalk an hour from then. This left jump roping as my only viable option.
I went to Wal-Mart and found a weighted jump rope in the sporting goods section. I tried to act all tough before going to the jump ropes by lifting the 25 pound dumbbells. After I was confident nobody else was around, I snagged the jump rope and ran to the register to pay for it.
Once I got home I pulled it out of the package and stood there in shock, not knowing quite what to do with the contraption. I picked it up, swung it around like a ninja and felt tough for a few seconds until I whipped myself in the back leaving deep welts. Though in pain, at least I knew my investment wasn’t a total waste, because now I had a weapon.
I finally built up the courage to use the jump rope for what it was designed for. I wasn’t quite sure I was dressed appropriately. For some strange reason I kept having visions running through my head of myself jumping while wearing a dress. I didn’t feel quite right.
My first few attempts at jump roping were short as I couldn’t jump more than a few times without getting tangled so tightly that Houdini would have been hard pressed to get out.
After a few months of jumping, I finally got the method down and started to become a good jump roper. As much as I hated to admit it, jump roping was pretty fun, and I always felt really good afterward.
It’s a great workout that gets your heart pumping. It sure beats running and works my heart so hard that sometimes I think it just might be pumping all the McDonalds grease out of my veins.
Sadly, after consistently jumping for about four months, I moved and forgot to bring my jump rope with me. I went without jumping all of last year and strangely missed it. This year my goal was to start jump roping again. I bought the same jump rope at Wal-Mart because they are the only place that has an affordable weighted jump rope.
I brought it home and talked up how good I was at jump roping to my wife. She knew better than that and just sat politely with that smug look on her face that means, “You’re about to do something that will injure you or make you look stupid, and I’m going to laugh.”
I pulled on my basketball shorts and tennis shoes and walked out onto the balcony of our apartment to show her how it was done. I started into a steady repetition and she was fairly impressed. I could see the look on her face that said, “Wow, he actually might be good at this, but only time will tell for sure.”
Sadly, she was right on both looks. After a few minutes I was winded, had whipped myself with the jump rope a couple times and couldn’t do any more. Once again I had proved just how un-athletic I really am.
But, I haven’t given up on jump roping. I still try to jump rope every day for at least a little bit. I’m getting better, and can keep a steady repetition going. I can feel myself getting healthier and more fit every day. Now if I could just lay off the donuts, I would actually get in shape.
Seth Hawkins is a junior majoring in public relations. He’d like to apologize for any by passers who have been so unfortunate to have seen him jump roping on his apartment balcony. Comments and questions can be sent to him at sethhawins@cc.usu.edu.