Sky Diving …check.

So about a year ago we were just sitting around the table discussing what we should do in our thirties. We decided to sky dive. Of course, I’m pretty sure everyone kind of thought it woud never happen. Until I have an emotional or bad day, and on emotional or bad days I tend to want to make myself happy. What other way do I make myself happy? I book things. Random off the wall things. It’s just what I do. Almost every vacation I’ve ever taken has been booked on a whim. (Except Thailand. Pretty sure I had just had too much wine that evening.) 

This time… my kiddo graduated from preschool. My anniversary of ten years was almost over. I was TOTALLY emotional. I cried all day.

So, I booked a sky diving trip. You know. What most people do when they are emotional.

God bless my friends and husband. They just went right along. (some more willingly than others.)

IT WAS AMAZINGLY CRAZY.

I wasn’t nervous at all. I signed my life away promising I wouldn’t sue if someone died, or the plane crashed, or if I broke my face. I simply put on a harness and was attached to some strange, good looking man, that talked entirely too much.  And then the door opened. And the artic freezing cold air came in the plane. And then my friend and her tandem partner were sucked out of the plane like vaccuum.  Then I was nervous. For about 30 seconds, until I was tumbling out of the plane myself.

It’s an insane feeling tumbling out of a plane. Spinning in all different directions. Having no control of your body. Falling at over 100 miles per hour. Not even being able to scream. Catching glimpes of the sky around me.

And then the parachute opens. And you breath. And scream. And smile. And feel your heart beat again. And you know that you will probably live. Probably.

And then you land. Properly if you’re lucky. I landed running. (Which is not the right way to land, but it worked)

And then you sit there and think about what you’ve just done.

And then you get really really tired because adrenleline rushes do that to you. They make you  really really tired when it’s over.

And then I watched my husband fall out of a plane. A tiny speck. And the only thing going through my brain is “please please God let the chute open. Let the chute open.”

And it did. And he lived.  And we all lived. Yay for living!

Song: Free Falling, John Mayer