Tangled up in Blue

The thermometer burned at 98 degrees and I was shivering.\nAs cold air rushed onto my skin I felt goose bumps climb up my arms. Still, all I wanted was someone seated next to me to crack a nervous look.\nAbove the loud roar of the engine, a guy mimicked one-liners from "Borat" as others talked comfortably in pairs. No one seemed to take notice as the small airplane climbed higher into the sky, maybe in exception to my stomach, which began its gymnastics routine shortly after take off. \nAs I felt my heart rate increase I turned to the man sitting behind me. \n"Do you ever get nervous?" \n"Sure sometimes," he told me. Liar. But it still made me feel better. \nHis name was John Judy, a 37-year-old former businessman who had lived in Washington, D.C., New York City and Los Angeles, and I was harnessed to his chest. \nAt 12,000 feet above Greensburg, Ind., he tells me how he gave up his former life to join the group that surrounded us in the plane. \n"I miss Manhattan," he tells me as I study the landscape below. "But I don't miss the work."\nI hear the tail end of a "Harry Potter" discussion wafting from the back of the plane. Some can't believe the saga is finally over. Others think they'll finally take a ride on Ms. Rowling's barge-sized bandwagon now that they can read all seven books in uninterrupted sequence. \nThen came the light.\nWe were on standby. My company immediately ceased their conversation as their faces changed from leisure to business. I was suddenly very aware of their attire, jumpsuits and backpacked parachutes -- and it made me nervous. \nThe group checked their gear and gave each other the ritual handshake. Pound, slap. \nAs bodies moved toward the door, a familiar fear washed over me. Instructions were shouted in my ear just as I had heard before. \n"On your knees … crawl towards the exit … arch your back … tuck your legs back … don't forget to smile. Jump after one, two, three." \nThe plane emptied as other passengers leapt out, disappearing below us instantly. Within seconds, we were the only ones left to go. I knew what to do. I even knew what to expect, but somehow, leaning over the edge of that airplane still scared the hell out of me. \nI have now jumped two times to date (this will be three times in three days, actually). But finding a way to describe the first millisecond of the fall is impossible. \nIf peering over the ledge is enough to paralyze you with fear, letting go is enough to give you a heart attack -- if you let it. \n"Just don't hit the ground." The sarcasm of a trio of experienced solo skydivers still sticks in my mind. Don Smith, 61, John Hubbell, 71, and Joe Deville, 50, each crack playful smiles as they joke with me, a newbie, no less than five minutes before we are set to take off.\nI learned Hubbell has been diving for more than 50 years. More than 8,000 jumps. I shoved my jaw back into place after only a few seconds.\nIf I pictured a typical group of daredevils, Hubbell's gray hair and silent demeanor would probably never make the list. Then again neither would a college journalist whose biggest obstacle has become her fear.\nI can feel the wind wrapping around me like a hand as it tries to suck me from the plane. (Screw off, wind.)\nBut if I'm so terrified, why am I here? Why not stop after the first two jumps and be safe, grounded? Because somewhere buried in my fear is excitement -- an addiction to adrenaline.\nI know the danger of jumping out of an airplane. I am also very well aware of the absence of my control as I am praying to God, Moses and Anna Nicole Smith that the little parachute who could, really does. \nStill I come back for more. So does John Judy. So does John Hubbell. \nAnd as I think back to my playlist for the car ride, "Sex, Drugs and Skydiving," I realize that danger has and always will be a quintessential part of life. Who can feel more alive than the person facing death?\nIt is why we drive too fast, drink too much, do too many drugs, and still we want more.\nIt doesn't matter who the person is, or even the way he or she got all the way up here, (owner of Skydive Greensburg Bob Dougherty later admitted to me he was stoned at a Led Zeppelin concert when he first decided to take the plunge) it is the decision to jump that links them all together. \nAnd I know that as my instructor begins to lean back that I will soon be falling into the blue, tangled up with the wind and barely able to breathe. I will look out as I pass the clouds and lift my arms as my body plummets thousands of feet toward the ground. \nI know that I will feel that chute jerk my body as everything goes silent and I float peacefully to the ground. \nI know that these "jumpers" aren't reckless, just daring enough to push the limits before they catch themselves with a tug of a ripcord. Maybe skydiving isn't really living, but somehow when I let go, I still hear a "Welcome to life" from behind the wind.\nThis time, I open my eyes wide and breathe out slowly as I relax. No more anticipation for the ground, just the rush of the sky. \nOne. Two. Three.