I look ridiculous and stupid. As I check myself in the bathroom mirror, I want to back out. I'm wearing a skintight leotard/body suit obviously designed by women who have no clue about men's plumbing, because the outline of my dick is obscene. Don't dudes who do this ridiculous sport wear a cup or something? I've been on a trampoline, but I've never done synchronized trampolining. Looking at myself in the mirror, I can see why.
The narrator feels embarrassed and self-conscious as he tries on a skintight leotard for synchronized trampolining. He cringes at the way the outfit accentuates his body, particularly the outline of his anatomy, which he finds embarrassing and absurd. The design seems ill-suited for men, leading him to question why other male athletes don't wear protective cups for such an activity. This adds to his reluctance to participate in the sport and exposes his insecurities.
Despite his previous experiences on a trampoline, he realizes that he has never attempted synchronized trampolining before. The reflection in the bathroom mirror serves as a harsh reminder of his unease and apprehension about taking on this new challenge. His thoughts reveal a deep sense of vulnerability, emphasizing the contrast between his excitement for the sport and the anxiety that comes with performing in an outfit that makes him feel exposed.