I’m sure everyone at one point in his or her life has agreed to something that he or she would later regret.  Not the annoying sort, like agreeing to do the dishes, so that your mom would leave you alone, but then finding that later you wouldn’t be able to relax just quite as soon as you thought you would be able to.  But the sort that makes your knees go weak and your hands, clammy. I for one, have.

In the summer of 2016, my mom, dad, and I planned to visit Coeur D'alene, Idaho.  I had never been adventurous by nature, but when my mom asked me if I would like to go ziplining when we visited Idaho, I ignorantly agreed.  Perhaps I underestimated my fear of heights, or I just didn’t quite comprehend the fact I would be jumping off a tree, over a four hundred foot drop.  However, as of the age of eleven, I was absolutely, completely, and utterly terrified of heights; but at the time, I was seemingly unconcerned.  

As my trip proceeded, it never crossed my mind, but as the inevitable event neared, I began to dread my decision.  One part of me seemed to try to see the positive in it, like how amazing the experience would be, and how at least I could say I had done it.  But on the other hand, I found myself going through every possible thing that could go wrong, like, what if I got stuck in the middle of the zipline or I fell off somehow?  These thoughts plagued me as we drove to the designated meeting place, where we would get all of our hooks and gadgets attached to us. Upon arriving, my whole body felt as if it would collapse and my hands began to sweat profusely.  A woman began to explain to us, exactly what we had gotten ourselves into.

“From this location, we will drive to the zipline course, where there will be three skywalks and seven ziplines.  The last one will be the tallest, being over a four hundred foot drop from the jumping point, and moving approximately thirty-five miles per hour…”  And as she droned on, I could feel my heart pounding. Glancing around the medium sized room, I spotted the other party we would be ziplining with, an elderly pair along with their granddaughter.  They were seemingly unconcerned, but honestly, I probably had enough anxiety for every person in the room.

“Stop thinking about it,” my mom chided. “It’s only making it worse for you.”  Despite the fact I nodded in agreement, I think we all know that this didn’t stop me.  As we took a four-wheeler up the side of a mountain, I was pretty much delirious with fear.  

Every so often my dad would yell over the loud roar of the engine, “Breath normally, last thing I need you to do is start hyperventilating.”  Don’t hyperventilate, more like remember to breath. Once we had reached the top of the mountain, I felt light headed. Perhaps it was the high altitude.  A woman and a man introduced themselves as Brittany and Brady, and explained to us that they would be ensuring our safety. From there, they explained that the first zipline would be the lowest drop, being only thirty or so feet off the ground.    

Brittany then asked us, “Is there anyone who would like to go first?”  As the silence stretched out, my mind began to race, perhaps I just need to get it over with.  

So without a second thought, I found my arm shooting into the air on its own accord, along with an exclamation, “Me!”  My parents blinked at me, surprised. I couldn’t say that I wasn’t surprised myself. Accepting my inevitable fate, I trudged to the platform.  Brady went across first, showing me how to sit in the harness, and where to hold.

Britney then attached my harness to the sturdy metal wire and with a smile, told me, “It’s a lot of fun, jump when you’re ready.”  Seeing that I couldn’t go back now, I inhaled deeply and leaped.

The summer air streamed past me, my feet dangling below me.  The feeling of being seemingly weightless was exhilarating and the view was indeed beautiful.  When I reached the other end, I found myself grinning. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.  As we climbed higher and higher, I found myself becoming more and more eager to jump. It was simply amazing from all the way up there.  It felt like flying, and I could not get enough of it.

The ironic thing was that I found myself dreading the end of the aerial trip.  Even as the trip eventually did come to a close, I couldn’t help but be grateful that I had been thoughtless enough to agree.  More often than not, we allow fear to dictate lives. Perhaps, sometimes all we need to do is take a deep breath, and leap.