12,500 feet

I've been told more than once that I have my head in the clouds. On Saturday, I did. Literally.

Yes, 12,500 feet, fifty second free-fall, plummeting toward the earth with nothing between you and and the earth but 12,500 feet, turning into 12,000 feet, turning into 11,000 feet, at rapid speeds. Sky diving! It's something I have always dreamed of doing. I did it! In some joint effort, Daniel and my family surprised me for an early birthday present. My sister won a sky-diving adventure for my Mom and her for a Mothers Day "Throw Mom Out of the Plane" draw that was on the radio in Lloyd, and so Daniel and I went along to watch.

I'll take you through my experience.

I was handed a blue jumpsuit to put on, then a harness was strapped around my body and two people were strapping me at once, quickly, making me ponder for a moments time that they were doing it all correctly. The plane was idling and for some reason I wasn't called sooner to get my equipment on, so they were in a hurry. My Australian buddy who would be jumping with me quickly ran off to suit up and I was taken outside the plane to wait, he comes running up, I get escorted onto the plane where my Mom and sister Leanne are waiting, strap in, and the plane takes off, ascending steadily onward into the air. As I try to make light conversation with the Aussie beside me, and acquire enough spit in my mouth to swallow to avoid my ears hurting from the rapid climb away from steady ground, I told myself over and over again that I would be fine, okay, and I would enjoy and cherish every second of this opportunity.

"How long do we drop for?" - Me
"About fifty seconds. But it will feel like fifteen." - Aussie

I get told to undo my seatbelt, and turn to be straddled by the sexy Aussie who straps me tightly to his body. Actually, he was balding a bit, but the Australian accent combined with 12,500 feet screams sexy. I think to myself, I don't think my shoes are tied very tight and they may fall off on the jump. I consider asking about this. Suddenly two people are opening the door. I'm told to make my way to the door. I look out and see clouds whizzing by, a patch of earth, a LONG way down. My heartbeat increases to 500 beats a minute. I take about five deep breaths as I crouch down, with my arms crossed so I don't grab onto the plane like an idiot (or genius, whichever way you want to put it).

I'm told to look up, so that when we begin to fall I can breath. One, and the Aussie rocks both of us, two, (rock) ... three

And we fall.

My arms spread out, I believe I'm in perfect position like we were taught. Hips forward. Back arched. Arms at a ninety degree angle, legs bent, symmetrical.

And then nothing matters. I relaxed, laughed, screamed, smiled, inhaled the thick air, watched the earth. That fifty seconds felt like fifty seconds, five seconds, and five minutes. And then the parachute was pulled, and about a five minute descent to the ground. Beautiful. Also fun, steering the parachute. I was able to steer it with some help, and land with much instruction. Also, I got to keep my shoes.

Anyway, I loved it. I could make a career out of it.

Here's some pictures. The first is when we're close to landing so that's why my feet are up (so that his feet could land first and avoid a face-plant) and the second is just enjoying the ride.