Inflatable dildos in a sea of mini ski slopes….

Inflatable dildos in a sea of mini ski slopes….

Today I have questioned my fitness.

The last few weeks have been an orgy of carbs – and turns out, it is true.  Fill your engine with shite and your motor won’t go.

I did a workout at the gym this morning, and my engine coughed, spluttered and then choked.

It was an unpleasant sensation…

To cheer myself up, I thought a day out with my youngest child, just the two of us – having a rare few hours together without any squabbling siblings, would be a perfect idea.

I let her choose our destination.

My first mistake.

I agreed I would do whatever she wanted.

My second mistake.

She asked to go to the local inflatable park, and I said yes.

You are seeing where I am going here.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have never been to an inflatable park before.  I have done more than my fair share of soft play centres, and trampoline parks, but this was to be a new experience.

Holy frigging moly.

I was prepared….

Sports bra – check

Bladder empty – check

Tena – hell ya – check

Again, I was wrong.

I had no idea I was about to play in an elites athletes world.

Firstly….

I was the oldest in the park by a good 25 years – and that includes the staff.  There were a handful of parents a similar age to me.  They were all queuing for coffee in clothing that suggested they were planning on sitting and chatting.  Not bouncing and praying for the security of their pelvic floor.

Gingerly I stepped onto what can only be described as a bouncy castle on steroids.  My eight year old daughter flew off from me, crying “hurry, mummy, hurry” and then chuckled as she turned to watch me gingerly make my way across a hot air platform.

The kids ran around as if they had been brought up on inflatable material.  I walked like I had been on the whiskey all day.

My arm was tugged into an assault course, which looked like a series of blow up dildos among a sea of mini ski slopes.  My child threw herself over the first hill and I attempted to follow suit.

What followed was not pretty.

My body slammed into the fabric as I launched my arm over the top, my fingers clutched at nothing as the weight in my arse started to drag me down.  I think I wailed a little as I tumbled down in a circular motion, before coming to a beached whale position at the foot of the mound.

I was like a turtle upturned on his shell.

A small child had to give me a nudge to help flip me over – and she only did that as I was in the way.

Everytime I suggested to my youngest that maybe I should sit and watch, she simply grabbed my hand and quipped…

“Mummy, Rosa Parks didn’t give up, and you aren’t either.”

Because the American civil rights movement and my first inflatable experience are EXACTLY the same thing.

Walking on an inflatable surface is exhausting,  I work out 5 times a week and I was panting like I was at hot yoga in a shell suit after 5 minutes.

I was dragged up slopes, down slides, every movement ended in the same way – me laid flat on my back.  The only time I was any help to my child was when she wanted to go on the bouncy basketball court which had been filled with boys since our session started.

I managed to slip, slide and drag myself inside the court – and moments later – it was just us two.

Nothing repels 10-15 year old lads more than a sweating 41 year old woman.

The last insult came in the form of six orange inflatable mounds.  The trick was to jump from one to the next to the next.  My daughter did it in 8 seconds flat.  Then it was my turn…

The advice from my eight year old was to simply leap from one and land on my belly before standing up and going again.  Upon hearing her speak those words, the supervising member of staff got her iphone ready with 999 pre-programmed in.

It took me 2 minutes.  I did not follow her advice, instead I crawled, on my hands and knees, like the old lady I really am.

Personal best though!

We were there an hour, I burnt enough calories to go large at McDonalds afterwards.

My fitness still remains in dispute – but I challenge any older fitness fanatic to spend an hour on the Inflatables to see how they hold up!

Next time we go – she is taking a buddy and I’m taking a book!

 

 

 

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