Fuck You Step Vault

So you are in a massive sports hall full of scaffolding, balance beams, different-sized boxes (and no mats. Mats? Ha). You (short, uncoordinated, and terrified) are cowering at the back of a group of tall, fearless, athletic-looking guys. The coach, who moves like he was bitten by a radioactive spider or something, is demonstrating how to fly over all these objects with the grace of a cat, and seems to be suggesting that you should try to do the same. It’s not going to happen. You can barely climb onto this stuff. What do you do?

Let me introduce you to the wonderful technique of the “Fuck You Step Vault”. Do you want me to do a butterfly kick over that railing? Sucks to be you, because you’re getting a step vault. Kong that wall? Yeah… no. I’m doing a step vault, sorry. Slide monkey that box? No. Fuck you. Step vault.

Basically, I learned to do a step vault and that was it. I am completely reliant on that one technique to get over everything I can realistically get over. I am so stuck on step vaulting that if you give me a slippery metal railing in the pouring rain, I’m probably going to step vault it and nearly break my neck doing so while everyone else safely turn vaults it. I’m trying to break this habit and it’s hard, because in my head, vaults straight over an obstacle as opposed to on and then off work something like this:

  1. Jump and grab obstacle
  2. ???
  3. Am I still alive? I’m not sure. Hey, I’m on the other side. How did I get here?

I’m coping with obstacles my own hip height, but god only knows how. I’m utterly convinced I’m going to die every damn time, but somehow I don’t. Fuck you, step vault. I won’t be stuck with you forever.

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