If you’re not growing, you’re dying. And when you jump outof a plane at 10,000 feet, you risk doing both.
Truth be told, I’ve never wanted to go skydiving. What Iwant to do is get trapped in an elevator with Taylor Lautner and Marky Mark (circa1991). But bounding out of a perfectly good airplane and falling towards theEarth at 120 miles per hour isn’t high on my list.
Nonetheless, when my good friend and drag queenextraordinaire, Haley Star,invited me to jump with her, I knew that I had to do it.
For me, skydiving is like breaking free from the Alcatraz offears that imprison us. While staying in the prison can be safe andcomfortable, where’s the sense of adventure? Where’s the freedom? And where’sthe personal growth that only happens when we push beyond our boundaries?
If you’ve been bit by the travel bug, I suspect you knowexactly what I mean. Can I get an amen?
The day of reckoning finally came, and we drove to thebeautiful and scenic Newport, RI totake our jump. Haley’s mother came along to show her support; my mother, onthe other hand, spent the afternoon worried sick on the toilet whilst prayingthe Rosary.
At about 7,500 feet, the magnitude of the situation startedto sink in. As the instructor strapped my harnessed body (insert bondage joke here)to his, things became very real. And when he opened the plane’s door at 10,000feet, I was eternally grateful that I had douched.
It was a tandem jump, meaning that the skydivingprofessional would be doing all the work. My only task was to place my two feeton the small step outside the plane’s open door—and lean forward. Simple as itwas, every cell, muscle and bone in my body resisted. The instructor,presumably accustomed to such hesitation, pushed me.
And down we fell, at 176 feet per second.
I can’t even begin to describe the sensory experience offree fall, and so I won’t make much of an effort. It’s like recounting thecolor purple to someone without sight, or an orgasm to someone withoutgenitalia. As scared as I was, it was the most amazing experience of my life.
After 30 seconds, the parachute was deployed, thus endingfree fall and beginning our 5-minute descent to the ground. As it turns out,the parachute ride was a bit dizzying for someone as delicate as myself—but Imanaged to hold my insides in, despite the various shades of green that Ibecame.
Will I ever jump again? Hell no. But am I glad that I didit? Yes. If we don’t do the things we fear, we limit what we can become.