When I was around 12 years old, a friend from my neighborhood invited me to go camping with him. I always considered myself to be an outdoorsman so I jumped at the opportunity to test myself in the wilderness. In the days leading up to the trip, I prepared myself by watching as many episodes of Man vs. Wild as I possibly could. I was ready for anything.
My friend Brooks was a year older than me and twice my size. His parents warned him of this fact and told him to take it a little slow for my sake. I interjected and assured them that I could handle anything Mother Nature threw at me; after all, I did watch three episodes of Man vs. Wild. On the first day we went to a river with hundreds of boulders strewn in it. We climbed on the rocks and moved upstream. He led and I followed as best as I could. Eventually, we came to what I thought was an impasse. Brooks easily cleared the space between the boulders. After some taunting and peer pressure it was finally my turn to jump.
I took a deep breath and readied myself. I positioned my arms like that of an airplane to be more aerodynamic and I began to run. I jumped while simultaneously yelling "EAGLE!" I knew yelling the name of a type of bird would have no effect on my leaping ability, but in the heat of the moment I did it anyway. I flew through the air with my gaze locked on my target. I remember excitedly thinking, "I'm going to make it!" I was wrong. I made it probably half way to the other boulder before gravity took effect and I plunged into two feet of water. My knees made contact with the rocky bottom and I suffered what I thought to be a life threatening injury. In reality, it was a couple of small cuts. It's important to mention that when in pain I have the tendency to overreact. "Oh no! There's blood everywhere! It's gushing! Call the ambulance boat; call the whole fleet! Call everybody!"
Eventually I stopped screaming and made the humiliating climb up the boulder on which Brooks was rolling with laughter. Although embarrassing, I do not regret my jump. I try not to regret anything I do in life. I have learned to live without fear or regret. Life is full of mistakes that need to be made in order to grow. Five years and many injuries later, I still hold this lesson to be true.
My friend Brooks was a year older than me and twice my size. His parents warned him of this fact and told him to take it a little slow for my sake. I interjected and assured them that I could handle anything Mother Nature threw at me; after all, I did watch three episodes of Man vs. Wild. On the first day we went to a river with hundreds of boulders strewn in it. We climbed on the rocks and moved upstream. He led and I followed as best as I could. Eventually, we came to what I thought was an impasse. Brooks easily cleared the space between the boulders. After some taunting and peer pressure it was finally my turn to jump.
I took a deep breath and readied myself. I positioned my arms like that of an airplane to be more aerodynamic and I began to run. I jumped while simultaneously yelling "EAGLE!" I knew yelling the name of a type of bird would have no effect on my leaping ability, but in the heat of the moment I did it anyway. I flew through the air with my gaze locked on my target. I remember excitedly thinking, "I'm going to make it!" I was wrong. I made it probably half way to the other boulder before gravity took effect and I plunged into two feet of water. My knees made contact with the rocky bottom and I suffered what I thought to be a life threatening injury. In reality, it was a couple of small cuts. It's important to mention that when in pain I have the tendency to overreact. "Oh no! There's blood everywhere! It's gushing! Call the ambulance boat; call the whole fleet! Call everybody!"
Eventually I stopped screaming and made the humiliating climb up the boulder on which Brooks was rolling with laughter. Although embarrassing, I do not regret my jump. I try not to regret anything I do in life. I have learned to live without fear or regret. Life is full of mistakes that need to be made in order to grow. Five years and many injuries later, I still hold this lesson to be true.
