I helped Katie do a handstand today. I attempted to teach her how to do a cartwheel too. We stood at the Parthenon (no, not the one in Greece) in Midtown Nashville , across the street from Musicians Corner when Katie asked, “Teach me how to do a cartwheel!” So I did.
I did gymnastics for seven years from my single digits into my preteen youth. I was decent and I remember nearly breaking my neck when I attempted to do a skipping areal cartwheel in my front yard to impress my friends.
I knew before take off that it would stretch muscles I hadn’t used since gymnastic classes, but I still had the skillz. Mad skillz. I executed the cartwheel with straight legs, pointed toes, and twisted my hips perfectly in midair. Katie fumbled, but she gave it a good effort. Then she wanted to do a headstand. “Here, grab my feet!” I pulled her into a headstand. She panicked and asked me to put her legs down. I couldn’t stop laughing. I then put my head on the ground, scrunched myself into a tripod, then once balanced, I extended into a headstand – pointed toes and all.
My eyes were at overgrown grass height and the world was upside down. Figuratively speaking, I’ve felt that a few times this year. My world had turned on its head, perspective different than everyone else’s, and feeling the weight on my head.
I got out of the stance and regained the reality of a hot, 90-something degree day and the newly-formed tan lines on my feet from my TOMS shoes. #youknowitssummerwhen We sat on the steps of the Parthenon imitation and felt the sweat drip down our backs. I know, gross, but hey, that’s called losing weight while having fun. I’ll take it!
As we were grabbing dinner from Mitchell’s Delicatessen in East Nashville, I thanked Katie for hosting Steph and me, and jokingly apologized for my constant insanity, which in my own nature is a lot. I’m a lot – sarcastic wise and rambling wise and my food-allergies-make-me-picky wise. She said, “You’re Jenn. I knew what I was getting myself into,” as if it was just a matter of fact. She is at best friend status for many reasons – too many reasons to list here and mainly understood only by us – and without her I not only wouldn’t have a place to crash in Nashville, but I would have a void in which I would always be trying to fill.
So as Steph and I head off to Cincinnati, stop number two on our road trip to get free, Sunday, I thank Katie Connors and Nashville for getting me close to one of Taylor Swift’s houses and trails on which she’s run with bodyguards.