Exiting My Comfort Zone, At 22 Feet Per Second
It takes a moment of impact to shatter your fear.
“One minute!” The Black Hat boomed from up near the front of the bird.
“One minute.” Every man and woman on the aircraft echoed back to the soldier behind them.
We were standing up, our static lines hooked to the overhead cable, and the weight of the parachute and reserve felt more real than ever. I was staring intently at the red light near the Jump Master. The moment it turned green, I knew nothing would ever be the same. I was in Airborne School at Ft. Benning, Georgia, and I was nineteen years old.
I remember taking that first step once the light switched. I vaguely remember handing off my static the line to the Jump Master before turning and exiting a perfectly good aircraft, but then there was nothing. We are trained to count to four. If you get to four and your descent hasn’t slowed, you are in some serious shit, but I can’t remember counting. The next thing I remember is the most exhilarating high I have ever felt. My body was pulsing with energy, but I could do nothing about it because I was harnessed to my ‘chute and falling toward Earth. My mind raced with every thought-all the thoughts- all at once. I couldn’t slow down, but I didn’t want it to…