Sometimes it's a good thing to make stories happen on purpose. In early 1985 I determined to do something I was seriously afraid to do and live to tell about it. That year I took up downhill skiing. I tried this sport four times, and not only lived to tell about it, but enjoyed the experience in spite of a couple of torn shoulders and skiing in a matching pair of two right boots (way better than two left ones!). Perhaps I would have continued if we hadn't moved to Pittsburgh where I have never met another skier. That moment passed.
Tomorrow I am heading off on another such adventure. My son and grandson are determined to visit Cedar Point in Sandusky, OH, the roller coaster capital of the world. "With a lineup that includes three of the top 10 steel roller coasters in the world, Cedar Point is a coaster lover's dream come true." Is this more scary than downhill skiing? Definitely! I am terrified of huge coasters, and this park has three of the top ten. This same son was involved in all but the first of the ski adventures.
I have not yet determined what it will take to reach my goal of living to tell about another fear conquered. One coaster? Three? Six? A loop-the-loop? Stay tuned! I'm pumped, and one way or another, this story is going to happen!
If you haven't heard anything by mid-August, you can safely assume I did not live to tell about it. Right now I feel like one of those people on the Extreme TV shows, pulling on my gloves and ready for the cameras to roll...
Write now: About doing something you were deathly afraid of. How was it? How did you feel when it was over? Did you ever do it again? Why or why not?