I saw on an old high-school classmate’s Facebook page recently that he had gone skydiving.
Initially, I was psyched for him, but then I actually watched the video he had posted. I have to admit, it kind of freaked me out. Even virtually, the sight of someone falling through the sky at a speed of nearly 120 miles per hour was scary.
Which makes today all the more special for me.
Five years ago this morning, I went and jumped out of a plane with nothing on my back but a parachute (alright fine, there was a professional on my back and he was wearing the parachute).
Why did I do it?
Because I had recently turned 30 and I wanted to do something crazy.
At the time, my life was pretty static, and I needed a bit of a jump-start. So, I made the decision and just committed to doing it.
In the weeks leading up to October 3, I never allowed myself to be scared. In fact, as the day drew closer, I only grew more excited and yet more calm.
And then I did it, and it was one of the best things I’ve ever done.
Will I do it again?
When I landed, all I wanted to do was get back in the plane and do it again.
And I think the fact that now, five years later, I’m perfectly happy staying on the ground doesn’t really change the sense of accomplishment I still feel.
I mean, really.
Who’da thunk it that a wimpy guy like me would have taken himself up 10,000 feet in the air and basically bellyflopped out of a plane — with another person strapped to his back. And I even lived to tell the tale.
So today, I wish myself a very happy five-year anniversary. Go me.