I jumped into fall last night, literally. Here I am, taking the plunge:
Beneath me is the cold darkness Stockholm has become since Sunday afternoon. What happened to our Indian summer? My knuckles are already cracking. Our windows are already shut. It would help if our building would turn on the heat at least.
My literal jump was at an event last night sponsored by the Nike Training Club. We got free t-shirts, worked out, and then each participant had the opportunity to hop off a, say, 30-foot-high platform onto a gigantic cushion of air. It was terrifying and invigorating.
When jumping from high places - usually into water - I go through a painful Thinking Process, starring out over the edge for, on average, 10 minutes. I've never backed down, but it certainly doesn't get easier the longer I wait.
Last night, I wasn't nervous as I climbed the 4 shaky ladders of the scaffolding to the top. It was when the man up there said "rumpa först" (butt first) that I started sweating. That doesn't really work for me, I tried to explain, my heart racing.
Dozens of fitness-crazed girls were waiting their turn to jump behind me, so climbing down wasn't really an option. I almost did anyway until GK saved the day and started counting - One - focus - two - stop thinking! - three - goooooo!
If you zoom in on my face, you'll see pure terror. Also note the half-hearted attempt at rumpa först. It didn't go so well, but fortunately my landing was pain free.
And there's my dose of courage for the week - thanks NTC!