A Challenge: A RISK A DAY  by Becca Gardner

At 39 years old, I jumped off a 200-foot bridge in New Zealand into a canyon river below while attached to a bungie cord. I did it because I was scared to death to do it. It was a symbolic gesture. I screamed as I left the platform. But at that precise moment, I was free.

It was the moment before I took the step that caused sweat beads to appear on my hands and face, that stopped my heart from beating and then caused it to race. I was a prisoner of my thoughts,”What if? I can’t! It’s too scary!” 

Even after I made the decision, those thoughts hounded me. They had me write a good-bye letter to my family that I left on my back pack leaning against the wall at the youth hostel. They plagued me as I rode up the canyon to the jumping site in complete silence because my throat would not work.

It wasn’t unlike all the other situations where I was afraid–walking across the airport in Australia to introduce myself to a group of young people heading to Bali so I wouldn’t have to travel alone. Even greater, the impetus of this journey–heading out on a nine-month around-the-world trip with a backpack totally on my own.

I knew taking risks was the key to living a vital and adventurous life.That’s what I told the guy from South Africa who sat beside me on the bus when we were passing by the bungie jump site on the south island of New Zealand. I had to do it because that’s what I taught my students…and I couldn’t be a hypocrite.

I begged him to do it with me and he said “no” at first but then relented. We met at the bungie jump shop the next day. They showed us a video clip of a 600-foot jump and that squelched any desire to speak. We chose the 200-foot jump. We signed away all rights to sue in case of death.

After they tied up my legs so that I had to walk out onto the plank like a penguin, the handsome young man who was helping me put his arm around me and told me to look at the camera. (When I later saw the video, I could see the fear behind my smile.) Then I looked down, and read the warning written on the platform beside my feet: “Don’t look down.” 

Ha ha, too late. He said I should jump when I hear the number 1. They were already doing the countdown, “5…..4…..3…..2…..1. At that moment I lept off the platform and into the abyss. Yes, I screamed. I screamed again when I hit the river below. And then I felt the absence of gravity as I flew back up into the vast expanse of blue. I was a bird. I was weightless. I was free.

When the bungie cord relaxed they held out a pole from a dinghy on the water and I grabbed it. They pulled me in and I lay on the floor of the boat and listened to the countdown for the next participant. It was a petite Asian woman. When I heard …1, nothing happened, she didn’t move. They counted again. She stood her ground. They counted again, and again–6 times. Her feet were frozen to the platform. Finally, she turned around and waddled back to safety.

That so could have been me. I knew that if I hadn’t immediately leapt off the platform when I heard the count of 1, I would never have jumped. My thoughts would have gotten the best of me, like they had many times before.

What gave me the courage? Not sure I really had it. I just refused to hear my thoughts. I said, “Okay, okay, okay..” over and over again so I couldn’t hear all the nay-sayers in my head. And it worked. As I lay there on the floor of that dinghy after experiencing such freedom, I considered going again. But I didn’t. I had proven my point. I could do scary things.