I recently saw a saying on Facebook that said “Don’t bother walking a mile in my shoes, that would be boring. Spend 30 seconds in my head, that’ll freak you out.” Absolutely! I’m going to share with you what went on in my head during one of the scariest moments of my life and the lesson I learned when it was all over. (Disclaimer: In my head, the filter is weak to almost nonexistent. I use curse words. Yes, all of them. Even the big ones! I didn’t use the big ones in this post, more the medium ones. I would rate it PG-13. Just so you know before you proceed!)

The jump. It was never something I wanted to do and didn’t want to do it at the time. But I did it. I jumped.

About a day and a half earlier, we stopped at a stand in downtown Cabo to talk about attractions with one of the many relentless men trying to stop us as we walked down the street. I initially thought ziplining might be a great choice but was quickly shot down by my sons. They had ziplined before and wanted to try something new. -Bungee Jumping. Starting to regret my choice of raising my kids to be adventurous! Just talking about it made my stomach queasy.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had agreed to do. I was fixated. I spent the next 36 hours worrying. I’m not a worrier. I don’t get scared of things. I love adventure. I have

snorkeled in the ocean many times, kayaked mangrove trails, rock climbed, repelled into caves, slid down ice to enter an ice cave, snow-skied, hiked mountains, ziplined…I mean I will literally try about anything. I am not afraid of heights or tight spaces or going fast or falling, but the thought of bungee jumping was making me feel physically ill.

We got to the Canyon where we were going to jump. My head hurt, my stomach was nauseous, and I really thought I might have diaherra. (Sorry, this is where the filter starts to go away!) We sat and watched the group go before us. No one died – good thing. Didn’t feel any better – bad thing. I casually asked my family, “What happens if I shit myself?” (Once again, filter gone but I wasn’t thinking poop or soiled!) They responded with “We laugh. We video it and we never let you live it down.” Maybe I need to stress the whole compassion and kindness thing a little more with my sons.

We got into the glass bottom gondola 300 feet above the canyon floor. My oldest son, white as a sheet and sweating bullets and who is afraid of heights, makes the jump. My middle son sails off waving, talking to us, and smiling the whole time. My youngest son steps to the edge and says no way. My turn.

My stomach hurt. My heart was racing. I needed to stall just a little. Question time. I asked the guide who does the math. I mean, who makes sure that bungee is the right length and I won’t bonk my head on the canyon floor. How many deaths? None, but I knew that because I had already googled it. Then I asked the question I really needed the answer to, “How often do people shit themselves when they jump?” There. It was out. He smiled and replied, “Well, if anything looks or smells kind of funky in that region when they come up I just get the harness off fast and then try to get away as fast as possible.” So, I reply, “It happens then” and he just smiled. Great. That wasn’t reassuring.

I put my toes slightly over the edge. My stomach hurt, my bowels were gurgling, head pounding, heart racing, and knees literally knocking together. I had never physically felt fear. I felt it now. Like, I really felt it. This is where I needed the crazy in mymind to calm, but oh no, the crazy went into overdrive. My thoughts were racing. I wasn’t worried about dying anymore. I mean my kids had survived. All I could focus on was this whole shit myself issue. I mean if it did happen I couldn’t hide it. I would be hanging upside down for several minutes after the jump which would allow it to run down my back and onto my head. I could very likely have shit in my eyes when I was pulled back to the gondola. Really…this was what I was going to focus on, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know. Maybe it was a survival thing and my brain was trying to distract me. It worked. The next thing I knew the guide counted down “3…2…1…Bungee”. I jumped. I remember thinking “Holy Crap I think I did it.” I clenched EVERY SINGLE MUSCLE on the way down and was stiff as a board when the bungee caught at the bottom. My back was torqued, my ankles were hurting, my stomach had dropped into the nether regions of my body, but I had kept all bodily functions tucked safely inside where they belong. Breathing slowly started to return to my body.

I know that I will never do that again and I don’t think I enjoyed it. It hurt. However, I did learn that I was braver than I thought. I conquered fear – big time, real fear. I pushed through physical fear and complete mental craziness! There is pride in that. But more importantly than that, jumping off that gondola made me feel like a badass. I liked it. I don’t feel like that much anymore or maybe I don’t let myself feel like that very often. I want experiences and successes and great moments for my kids, which is something I should do, but when did I stop wanting and needing those for myself too? Did I just get lost in the routine of life? Do I feel like I’m too old for that? Is there just not enough time? Am I just making excuses? I don’t know, but I am pretty confident that I don’t want to be done being a badass just yet. I don’t need to jump into canyons every day, but maybe I should run in that 5K, wear the little black dress, drive a race car, write a book, get through to the most challenging student, visit the Pyramids, learn a new language, learn to scuba dive, teach outside the box, hike Yellowstone, or jump out of a plane (the other thing I said I would never do, but now I’m not so sure….that would be pretty badass!) Life is short, but it is also amazing and fun and adventurous – I say enjoy it. Be brave and be badass!