That Takes Ovaries! Read Online Free PDF Page B

rushed to put on my harness, adjust my ponytail, strap on my helmet, and swagger downstairs. Once at the bottom of the rope, I attached my harness, checked the setup with the belayer on the balcony, got my feet into the ropes, and grabbed my clamps.
    “Belayer ready?” I shouted.
    “Belayer ready,” the student yelled down.
    “Ascending,” I called out. Before he could even reply, I was off and gone.
    Off and gone, that is, until about seven feet into my climb, when I became exhausted—deeply exhausted—and came to a dead stop.
    I sat dangling from the rope with my harness painfully digging into my butt and inner thighs. I stretched to pull up the looped ropes so that I could step into them and keep going. Unfortunately, I pulled them too high and could not move them down. Suddenly, the absurdity of climbing up with no ground below to push against struck me. In my tight jeans, my leg battled to defy gravity to get my foot into the damn loop. It felt too difficult. I began to panic. I considered giving up, yet I knew how humiliated I would be if the whole class had to watch the belayer lower me down.
    Ms. L. sensed my frustration and began to coach and encourage me. “This is not hard, Beth. I know you can do this. Just get that foot in there and push your body up. Move it!”
    I tried, and tried again, and finally I got my foot into the loop. I grabbed the clamps with my hands and felt my quads, hamstrings, and biceps strain as I pulled myself up. I looked above at the balcony: about halfway to go.
    Honestly, the rest of the climb was not much easier. I summoned upper-body strength I never knew I had. I mean, you’re talking about someone who couldn’t even do a single pull-up. Then, after one more excruciating rest on my pinching harness, my face met the floor of the balcony. I was almost there. With a surge of optimism (or was it adrenaline?), suddenly my work became effortless. Within seconds I was climbing over the balcony bars while Ms. L. commanded to the belayer, “Pull her in, pull her in. Don’t let her go yet!”
    When I was standing on the balcony, both feet on solid ground, I took off my helmet and my head looked as if I had showered. I was heaving, my face was bright red, and sweat ran down my neck. By this time, everyone was clapping. I was the first girl at East High School to ascend. I tried to look humble, but it wasn’t working. I now knew I could run with the best of them, and I figured, why not smile about it?
    Yeah, sure, beth mistretta ( [email protected] ) did graduate with a journalism degree from a good Chicago university, and did get a job in her field as Community News Coordinator for a daily newspaper. But way more important, she is also a fitness instructor at an allwomen’s health club, where she’s been teaching since shortly after taking Ms. L.’s class.

Paying for It

monique bowden
    We’d been warned it was too dangerous to go out into the dark streets of Detroit, but I was hungry and so was Alice. We left the safety of our conference site at Cobal Hall and headed for a diner we’d spotted earlier.
    When we arrived at the little corner eating establishment, wewere frozen, and decided it would be in our best interest to take a cab back to the convention center when we finished dinner. As we took our booth, we were happy to see a taxi pull into the cabstand and the driver come inside for his own supper. I asked him if we could be his first fare after his meal. He agreed. Knowing that we wouldn’t freeze on the walk back to the convention center, Alice and I sipped hot tea and settled into the warm comfort of the diner. Within minutes our food was placed in front of us.
    I had barely taken a bite of my hamburger when the front doors of the restaurant flew open. In stepped a hip-swinging parade of four meticulously groomed women draped in full-length white mink coats. Two showed off their majestic breasts in white dresses with necklines that plunged to the waist; two wore red