Editor's Note: The Wary Neophyte is an occasional series in which reporters participate in a health and fitness activity with which they are unfamiliar.

Many a time, I've been told that I belonged in a padded room.

At long last, it has come to pass.

I am standing, all wobbly-legged and out of sorts, on a spongy, padded 92-by-46-feet grid of trampolines – wall and floor alike – shaped like a giant wok. Protective netting rings the court, in the likely event that participants (me) careen out of control and fly off.

But right now, I'm fine. Somewhat balanced, feigning poise, and ready for a workout.

Of course, I haven't really moved yet. But that will soon change. Here at the Sky Zone, a cavernous recreation center that recently opened in a Rocklin industrial park, the instructors are all about keeping you moving. Owners Rick and Jeff Platt, a father and son from Southern California who also have Sky Zones in St. Louis and Las Vegas, offer pick-up trampoline dodgeball games, open bouncing, a made-up game called SkyZone and, for those wanting regimented workouts, an aerobics class.

SkyRobics, they call it. And it's an apt name, because participants leap and bound in a form of galloping they call "rouncing" (just combine run and bounce). A session includes everything from stretching to elastic-band exercises, push-ups to squats, aerobic "rouncing" for endurance to anaerobic sprinting.

Throw in a medicine ball, and things get really interesting. As I was about to find out.

But first, some background.

The Platts did not develop Sky Zone with fitness in mind, at least not at first. Their idea of stitching scores of trampolines to allow people to move forward, backward and off the walls had only one initial intent: fun.

"But over time, we realized the workout factor and great exercise benefits," Jeff Platt says. "There's nothing new about rebounding. That's been around for 70 years. We've taken it a step further by allowing people to move forward on trampolines rather than just up and down. The exercise is a totally different world. Low impact, but cardiovascular."

And Rick Platt adds, "It's so much more fun than monotonous exercise. People who might be able to jump 30 minutes can't last three minutes in here."

Then, Rick looks me up and down, assessing how long I might last. He had told me earlier that a group of professional Ultimate Fighters in Las Vegas had quit after 15 minutes on the trampolines.

He frankly tells me: "You will, within 10 minutes, say 'uncle.' You'll have had enough."

(Rick is quick to add that he has instructed his personal trainer, Anthony Woods, to put me through the advanced workout. For kids – and adults not in top shape – Rick says there are less-strenuous workouts. "It really appeals to everyone," he insists.)

For my workout – however long its duration – the Platts have hooked me up to a heart rate monitor and fitted me with special shoes required of all Sky Zone users. The shoes are a workout in themselves, akin to walking in cement blocks, with heavy tire-tread soles and extreme high tops to protect rouncers from ankle sprains.

Woods effortlessly bounds over like a frisky deer and teaches me to "rounce." We start out laterally, leading with the right foot and careful not to cross over with the left. It's not that difficult, really, until you reach one of the padded seams.

"You can either hop over it, straddle it or step on it," Woods instructs.

I hop.

And I go flying over it with the precision of a long jumper. One problem, though: coming down without falling. I managed to avoid that fate and reach the other side.

Now, Woods puts me through five minutes of back-and-forth rouncing at a brisk clip. He makes the turns by flinging himself off the wall trampolines. I'm more circumspect and slow on the turnaround. He stops and teaches me how to turn. The key is to make the complete turn in the air before your feet touch the wall. That way, you're propelling yourself forward already in "rouncing" position.

I'm breathing hard after five minutes, look down at my heart rate watch and notice it's topped off close to 200 beats. In other words, an intense workout.

Anthony lets me recover for 30 seconds or so, then grabs a medicine ball. The plan is to rounce laterally in opposite trampoline lanes while tossing the ball back and forth.

Let's just say that my hand-eye coordination needs work. About 15 minutes into the workout – sweat soaking my shirt and dripping onto the pads – Rick takes pity on me and calls Woods off.

I ask Woods how I did.

"Great," he says.

I don't believe him.

Rick pipes up: "Hey, two of the Ultimate Fighter guys threw up."

I managed to keep my breakfast down, thank you very much. As for my heart rate? Well, that took a long while to come down.

Call The Bee's Sam McManis, (916) 321-1145.