We are at one of those obnoxiously large indoor waterparks (because some of us live in the midwest and it's the last day of January---almost all things are done indoors), and it takes probably ten minutes to walk from our room to the wave pool (which is a fabulous workout if you have a 5 year old on your back and are trying to dodge inner tubes so the 5 year old doesn't get squashed...fyi).
At this water park there are all types of things. Lazy rivers, the huge buckets that dump a thousand gallons of water on unsuspecting passerbys, loads of bathing suits (thank you, Lord. The alternative would be awkward..), even more loads of childrens who are sometimes in bathing suits, perpetually wet floors, even soggier towels, and water slides.
Oh, the water slide.
I have had a pretty good relationship to them in the course of my life. When I would spend summers in Chicago with my grandmother, every day my cousins and I would go to the pool (we all thought grandma wanted to be generous, but looking back now I realize she just wanted us out of the house. My grandmother has 37 grandkids, by the way), and there was a water slide. Great times. Great times. Diving boards? Now that's another story. I still have to manually plug my nose when I go under water. Can't do that too easily while trying to dive.
Anyway, the water slide. I prefer the ones where you can't see anything. The anticipation is what kills you, and if the water slide itself is going to kill me I would prefer to not see that coming.
But a few summers ago, all of that changed.
My whole life changed.
I always thought I was afraid of heights.
But then I did this activity (watch the YouTube video):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6K0qNEpzqQ8&feature=related
Besides the fact that this girl is blond, married, and most likely Canadian (there was a slight tone of her voice...), the situation is somewhat the same.
Actually, that's not true at all, the place is the same.
I was in Switzerland (which you all really should see sometime in your life) and my friends had the great idea of doing something crazy.
Never one to show that I am terrified of heights I was just like, "Oh Yeah!! Perfect!" and then I got two Canadian boys to do it with us.
And in the process of faking my excitement I found myself climbing to the top of this mountain thinking that at least my brothers will think I am awesome.
I was second to go in our group of nine. The waiver was signed. The harness was on. I was walking on to the platform.
What I didn't know before stepping onto the platform was that it was actually just a wire grate, a.k.a. I could see through to what was below me.
Oh.My.Goodness.
What in the world have I done?
I was planning on just running and doing this great dive of faith off the board and it was going to be something magical and heroic and inspire all the 7 people behind me.
All was going much in that direction when, as I was running to the edge, I realized, "Holy Smokes...what am I doing!?!?" and promptly stopped and pulled myself back. Terrified.
Thinking there has to be a better way to do this and knowing that walking back down the mountain is not an option they offer, I thought, "Well why don't I just STEP off with one leg and let gravity do it's business?"
The issue with that plan, I found out, is that gravity DOES do it's business.
In the split second before my entire body started plummeting 300 feet down the side of a cliff my natural muscles just decided to arch my back.
So here is where we are: I have put one foot over the edge and bent the other leg. Gravity kicks in. There are two ropes attached to me. One hooked onto either side of the canyon in front of me. There is a raging river with huge boulders some 300 feet below.
My back arches.
And my back hits the platform.
Gravity is still doing it's business.
And now I have been pushed, by said platform, into the forward falling position. I am now falling horizontally, facing the river below, knowing that I smoked my back, not knowing if I can still move, not screaming at all, eyes bulging out of my head, and thinking, "Great, I just paid $150 to paralyze myself."
When the rope finally caught and I started flying through the air, that's when I let out an "I'M ALIVE!!!" yell.
I could hear my friends at the top then also yelling "SHE'S ALIVE!!!!"
See, they thought I had hit my head because they just heard the THUMP.
And then I didn't scream on my way down.
So when they realized I wasn't suffering from unconsciousness, they were happy.
The girl who came down after me got to me with tears still in her eyes. "WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!!!!" she said.
Oh great.
That's comforting.
And then I was the talk of the town that night. "Where is the girl who smoked her back on the platform!??!" everyone wanted to know. Then everyone wanted to see my back.
Apparently, in the 15 year history of canyon jumping, I am the ONLY person who has ever done that.
Oh yeah. That's me.
So my family is at a water park this week.
And before my life was changed by that almost accident, I always thought that I was afraid of heights, but then I realized, No NO, I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of falling.
And, as I learned that fateful day, doing something to spite your fears doens't cure it. It makes you more convinced of it.
Did I mention that there are water slides here?
Yeah, those usually involve a fall of some kind.
I think I have gone on 4 while here.
One brought back all kinds of dark memories.
And the other ones made me slightly hyperventilate while in line.
But I went.
Just to spite my fears.
Which are all pretty solidly still in place, mind you.
So what, I have figured out, is my adrenaline rush of choice?
Speed.
With a lack of feet or tires leaving the ground.
Which would exclude waterslides.
I would be fine if I never fell again.
And will continue to feel this way until the next rush of insanity throws me off another canyon or something heinous like that.
Here is me at the bottom.
After I survived.
I look so happy.
That's a cover-up.
I Can't picture you doing that. Holy cow. Nice work. I'm jealous.
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