The Bucket List item I never added

Well I suppose the first new post of the new year (as the last post was technically written before the year's end) should be memorable. It should be suspenseful. It should be filled with interesting information. It should have a real message.

Today's story is about the effects of peer pressure. The topic of a certain activity came up early in the week and was bandied about a bit. It was something that had been mentioned at the beginning of the semester in jest; a full-staff activity in which half the staff would never agree to participate. I laughed it off as they began rallying the troops. Some were excited, some nervous, and some just plain not interested. As the week went on, the group grew larger. It began to get so big that I thought about it myself. If everyone else did this and I did not, would I regret it? Looking back on my life, I realized that the things I have regretted have never been the things that I have done. They've always been the things I was too scared to do. With that in mind, I told those coordinating that if they got the WHOLE staff to agree to go, then I would go as well. By Saturday, they had rallied 14 of the 16 staff members. The 15th person was on the fence... she was going to go, but not sure if she would participate. With that level of commitment, I agreed to go.

On a crisp, yet warm Sunday morning, the bus pulled into the monastery where the staff was staying to pick our group up. We had grown from the 16 staff members with the addition of a field manager and 5 students. At 22 strong, we made our way from Dade City to Orlando and by mid-morning had arrived at our destination. After signing our lives away, we began to go. Each group had about five of us mixed in with a contingency of instructors and other people. By the time my shift was to go, there were only three of us from Up with People left. We got dressed appropriately and met our instructors. I use the term instructor loosely, as there was not much instruction at all.

When the vehicle arrived, we all got in and buckled up. I was a bit nervous at the very beginning as we began to move and I realized the back hatch was still partially open. I got less nervous the further we got from our starting point. I looked out the window to enjoy the scenery and made conversation with the man sitting in front of me. After about 20 minutes, we'd reached our destination and my instructor (Ray) told me it was time to get out. We'd practiced our exit a bit on the ride over, so I felt pretty confident. He said, "Now take one last deep breath," and I did. There was no time to think, for as soon as I finished that last breath we went. As I tumbled out of the plane, there was a fraction of a second where my mind screamed, "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!" but that quickly subsided as we finished flipping and began our descent. I was not scared at all after that. My ears hurt as the wind went rushing by at 120 miles per hour, but I did not feel scared. The ground seemed so far away that it was as if I was swimming on the air rather than falling. We did some turning and after 60 seconds of free falling, Ray deployed our parachute.

All of a sudden, everything stopped. The rushing air ceased and everything was quiet and still. Ray and I talked a bit as the parachute made a few turns. I looked out over the land and could see for miles. It made me think of the paragliders in our back yard. I had always been too afraid to go, but now I was seeing that the paragliding was tame in comparison to free falling. We neared the ground and I prepared to land. Even after I landed I felt like I was floating still. I walked toward my colleagues as one of the last to jump out of the plane, but still feeling the same sense of accomplishment.

If I had not gone would I have regretted that decision? Absolutely. Let this be a lesson to us all: If everyone else is going to do it, you might as well check it out too... No wait, that's not it. Oh, right. If it seems dangerous, research until you realize that it's actually pretty safe.

The facts: The incidence of death in skydiving is 1 in 100,000. This may seem like a lot, however the majority of those deaths are caused by a maneuver known as swooping, where an individual will approach the ground at high speeds and level out just above ground level as if running on air. This was DEFINITELY not a maneuver we were going to be doing. We all jumped tandem, which took the control out of our hands and into the hands of a professional. Most people's biggest fear in skydiving is the fear that their parachute will not open. Modern day skydiving equipment has built in altimeters which automatically deploy your chute at a certain altitude in case you or the person with you is unable to do so. If the first chute fails to open, there is a second parachute that is actually SAFER than the original parachute.

So with facts in hand, I felt comfortable in my decision. Aside from the moment the plane took off and the moment I left the plane, I was not scared at all. I'm actually more scared now looking back and seeing the pictures. I notice that there's NOTHING between me and the ground except for 13,000 feet of air. That's when I can't believe that I did it. What was I thinking?!

Well, I suppose that's it for this one.
~Molly