Woozy, emo sadmaking ode to the teeter totter.


So in class the other night, Gustavo raced around a couple of sequences. Raced up on that teeter and slammed it just like he’s seen on tv. Ran fast and ran clean. We were having a great time.

Then, he couldn’t do the teeter anymore. Scared him. And couldn’t race quite as fast. Something didn’t feel right. Even though it did before. Last week, last night, it was all ok.

At Santa Rosa, just once did we go near the teeter totter. In Team Standard, it was the third obstacle in. Jump-jump-teeter. Very simple.

He ran right up it. I was stoked. He looked happy, and then, poof. He didn’t. He ran just past the tip point, and he stopped, then turned right around. It was sad. It didn’t seem to phase him though. I called him back and we got back into the groove and ran the rest of the course, albeit with an E.


Not a lot of things make Gustavo sad. Being left at home. Lighters and matches. Fireworks and gun noises. The snapping sound a longe whip makes. Big dogs that stare at him. Buses.

And teeter totters.