I thought an adult trampoline park experience would be easy—my abs disagreed

Let me tell you something about adult trampoline parks that no one warns you about: you will sweat. Not in a cute, post-yoga glow kind of way. No. You will sweat in a “Why is my shirt clinging to me like it’s cling wrap and I’m a bowl of a mystery food in the back of my fridge?” kind of way.

I learned this the hard way at Flying Squirrel, an indoor trampoline park for kids and adults.

 

The Overconfidence That Led to My Downfall

I don’t know what I was thinking when I got dressed that day. Actually, I do: I wasn’t thinking. I was mechanically performing a chore I perform every day: wake up, brush teeth, get dressed.

For reasons that still baffle me, I chose to wear jeans and a heavy flannel shirt to a trampoline park. In my defense, it was winter, and I assumed a few casual jumps with my kids wouldn’t be enough to break a sweat. Spoiler: I was wrong.

Flying Squirrel in Chatham isn’t just some bouncy castle for toddlers—it’s an athletic event disguised as fun. The second I stepped onto the floor of the trampoline park, reality hit me: this was no ordinary kids’ outing.

 

Trampoline Park Physics: A Betrayal

I took my first jump.

My jeans immediately betrayed me.

Jeans are designed for standing still, walking at a leisurely pace and, well…I guess that’s it. They’re not meant for bouncing, flipping, or awkwardly scrambling out of a foam pit.

With every jump, my jeans clung tighter, like they were actively plotting against me. My range of motion? Severely limited.

Meanwhile, the flannel shirt—which had once seemed like a sensible choice for a cold Canadian winter’s day—had transformed into a personal sauna.

At one point, I tried to keep up with a trampoline dodgeball game, moving at the speed of a man trapped in wet cement while a group of ruthless 12-year-olds pelted me with foam balls.

 

Foam Pit Regret: A Tragic Act in Three Parts

At some point, I made another terrible decision: I fell into a foam pit after competing against my son on the battle beam.

If you’ve never experienced the particular horror of being stuck in a foam pit while overheating in denim, let me describe it for you.

1. The Initial Jump:
   • You think it’s going to be fun. You think you’re about to experience weightlessness, maybe even grace.
2. The Immediate Sinking:
   • Foam pits do not work like pools. You do not glide through them. You plunge and get swallowed up.
   • I landed in an awkward, twisted position, unable to bend my knees because my jeans had stiffened into a denim exoskeleton.
3. The Escape Attempt:
   • Have you ever tried climbing out of a foam pit while your body is slowly overheating and you’re laughing so hard you can barely function?
   • I clawed my way to the edge, panting like someone who had just run a marathon inside a sauna.
   • A seven-year-old child effortlessly bounced past me, flipped, and exited the pit in one fluid motion.

It was at this moment that I accepted my fate: I was an unprepared adult in a trampoline park designed for those who made better life choices.

 

A Terrible Place for Flannel

Here’s the thing: Flying Squirrel isn’t just for kids. It’s an adult trampoline park too, which means you will be challenged. You will get competitive. And you will absolutely sweat more than you think.

I went in thinking I’d lightly bounce for 30 minutes and leave unscathed. Instead, I left exhausted, and questioning my wardrobe choices.

Let this be your heads-up: an adult trampoline park is way more of a workout than you expect—but also way more fun. Show up ready to move, laugh, and maybe surprise yourself with just how much you can still bounce at your advanced age.