controlled risk

What started as a casual skydiving discussion between my roommate and I ended with planning a spontaneous trip upstate. A couple of weeks later, Janelle and I were at a skydiving ranch in Upstate New York about to jump out of a plane. The following is a picture journey from the ground all the way up to 13,000 feet and back down again. Safely.

My death-mobile: the Freefall Express

What am I doing?!

Here's the crew as we head up to 13,000 feet... Janelle is a bit unsure about her

decision-making skills.

Nick and I about to jump....this is me freaking out and questioning MY decision-making skills.

THE JUMP!!

All's good here!

I don't think I could even tell if I was screaming. I think I was.

A whole new meaning to chubby cheeks

One of the world's most awkward photos.

Freefall is over and the chute comes out...

And we're back on the ground!

I'm alive! Thanks to Nick, best tandem jumper ever

A bit frazzled and windblown, but we're all alive and well!

As I reflected on my first jump, I realized that I like controlled risks in my life. I'll move 1,500 miles away from a small town in the South to New York City, but only because I have the safety net of family and friends there. Skydiving is a perfect, tangible representation of that. I will jump out of a plane and fall 13,000 feet, but only because I know that I am strapped to a professional and it's been done by thousands of people before me. Perhaps it's the perfect mix of knowing I'm safe but doing something wild at the same time.

And I'm ready to jump again!