It was a month of newfound bruises.

In an effort to save some gas, and to go back to the time-honored tradition of playing in your own backyard, my boyfriend Chris and I built a luge run on the hill behind our house. As the snowstorms piled up, the track morphed into different forms, the latest of which has a 10-foot gap jump.

When you land it, you feel victorious. When you don’t, well, you try again. And again. And again.


One afternoon, feeling ballsy, I didn’t speed check on my approach to the ramp. Before hitting it, a friend says I giggled, then took off. High and long. I was up there for so long, I had time to question the logic of this sport. Then I wondered whether I wanted my arse to be the first contact with the ground, so I sidled the sled to the left and let my feet hit first. My boyfriend proclaimed it a record and measured it: 22 feet, 9 inches. On a small multi-colored plastic object.

Enter another unique sport, large format jousting. Moonshine writer Kira Yannetta celebrated her 40th birthday at Jump Man Jump in Reno, with an array of bouncy-house structures to run, jump, slide, push, and joust on. In one corner, you grab a weapon – a modified battering ram – and battle against an opponent from atop a squat squishy pillar. Oh, the fun Chris had with me, can we say repressed aggression?

But I digress, the point I want to make was on Kira’s face as she raced around Jump Man Jump. A glittering smile and contagious giggles, befitting a six-year old, graced her face the entire time.

What more can we ask from life?


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