I used to really like to climb. Around 7 or 8 years old I developed a phobia about heights. As a child, I treed myself and had to get someone to get a ladder and get me down, twice, that I can remember. I’ve always regretted getting on a rollercoaster SO HARD everytime it began it’s climb to the top.
We were sitting up on the edge of the big bowl at Kona yesterday and my heart was in my throat the whole time, I used to hate that feeling, time’s are changing.
I dropped into the biggest ramp I have ever dropped yesterday. Yes, I fell and slid down the last quarter of it on my ass. Yes, there may be splinters. But, I took the drop.
I climbed up there and looked over the edge and freaked out for a solid 30 minutes. Telling myself there was only one way down. Rolling. I stood on the top of that ramp looking over the coping and I remembered everytime I climbed a tree and couldn’t find the courage to get down. Hell, that ramp was bigger than most of those trees.
I took the drop. I may not have climbed back up to the top after I fell for a second attempt to stick it.
Sticking it is yet to come, and I am still so proud of myself.
Sliding down that bitch on my ass is going in my book of wins today.