Meeting your heros (wish fulfilment)

The common warning about not meeting heroes may also apply to experiences. Sometimes the emotional investment into trying something can build up as that action is consistently pushed back. For me, that metaphorical hero was skydiving. I've always loved the feeling of free fall, when it almost seems like your internal organs are moving around inside your torso. So what's the next step up from those drop towers? Either bungee jumping or skydiving.

Originally, it was meant to be my 18th birthday gift from my parents. All it took was half a year of pestering and asking for it. But the cast nursing my broken wrist put an end to that. Then college started. A lack of consistency, bouncing around. The pandemic's destruction of well-crafted plans struck. This past spring I essentially decided that I've had enough putting it off. With a couple of friends, we made our way to the jump zone... Only to have it cancelled due to poor weather conditions. Too many clouds and they were too close to the ground. And incredibly windy. 

Just one more set back in the long chain of cancellations and "some day I'll do it". Well, it finally happened. No broken wrists, perfect weather, and the time to do so. And it totally lived up to my expectations. That had actually been my greatest fear - I've built up an expectation, and was afraid that it wouldn't be as incredible as I expected.

I'm rarely this happy to be wrong. It was everything I imagined and more. It started when my tandem instructor back flipped us out of the plane at 13.5 thousand feet. Already awesome. Then, during the free fall, he was showing me how to use my arms to spin us first left, then right, faster and slower. All this time, wind was rushing by, howling in my ears. Then a tug and silence. He pulled the chute. In the distance, Philadelphia was illuminated by streaks of sunlight falling through a light cloud cover. Under us, an expanse of towns and golf courses, fields and trees. Life was spread out below and we drifted above it in a silence, taking it in. Up next? Instructions on controlling the parachute descent. He had me flare it to slow down. Turn one way, the other, complete three-sixties. Eventually, it wrapped up with a soft landing near the airfield's landing strip.

Words cannot express the wild exhilaration of free fall, especially contrasted against the smooth drift under the parachute. I definitely need to go again. And hopefully, this time it takes less than six years.