Tall tales: Flying high

I'd only been in the Greenwich warehouse where the Gorilla Circus trapeze classes are currently held for 15 minutes before I was kindly, but firmly, ordered to start the daunting ascent. In those few minutes on the ground I had attempted to perform what was deceptively described as a 'simple' trick: hanging upside down by my knees on a static bar. Thanks to my complete lack of upper body strength, I had failed even to lift my legs off the ground, yet my instructor Orfeo considered me qualified to attempt the same manoeuvre while hurtling through the air. It's hard to say no to a man in harlequin-patterned Lycra leggings, so I did as I was told.

I can't overstate just how frightening the climb was - I suffer from vertigo so severe that even standing on a chair makes me feel faint. Rung by rickety rung, the ground receded beneath me, and the realisation that from the top there is only one way down started to hit home. My legs turned to jelly, my heart was racing and my palms were clammy.

Finally I reached the top, pale-faced and panic-eyed. As I wiggled my toes over the edge, muttering 'Don't look down', and leaned into the void to grab hold of the surprisingly heavy bar, my mind went blank. I must have jumped, because I was suddenly aware of a feeling of complete freedom and unadulterated joy as I flew across the vast room. I'm no adrenaline junkie, but it was a rush like nothing I've experienced before.

My first few tries were a mess, mainly because I was too focused on having to throw myself off the platform to concentrate on the acrobatics. But towards the end of the two-hour class I had somehow mastered it and was ready for the next step: being caught, upside down and in mid-air, by a 'catcher' on a second swinging bar. The moment when I felt the firm grip around my wrists and let my legs release my own bar, successfully completing my first trick, was probably my proudest to date. My feet haven't touched the ground since. (gorillacircus.com)

To watch Lucy's death-defying feat for yourself, go to eveningstandard.ca