Bungee Jump

I'm terrified of heights. So terrified that I still remember a gallery show I had to install in 2002, where I could not get up to the third rung on a ladder without my knees buckling. I think it was '03 or '04 in another show, where I managed to install a floor-to-ceiling sculpture all by myself, and I made sure there was photo evidence of me on top of that ladder!

I've been putting myself in situations that would help me practise relaxation and overcome my fear ever since. In 2005, I clambered up the treacherous Angel's Landing in Zion Park in Utah, hanging onto chains and trying not to look down the 370m sheer wall to the bottom. In a 2009 adventure race, I begged my teammates to let me be the one to complete a high ropes course, with a zipline at the end. In 2010, I went skydiving and loved the freefall, but was nauseated by the parachuting. It seems the closer to the ground, the more I suffer! It took a lot of breathing the first time I rope-climbed a small cliff, belayed by a very experienced friend; it was a few pickax runs up a frozen waterfall in Mont Tremblant in 2011 before I was comfortable enough to really relax and trust my harness; my 30th birthday took place at an indoor climbing gym, and I still felt like I was conquering demons each time I got closer to the ceiling.

Bungee jumping is something that I swore I'd never do. Not because it's not safe, but because it is so close to the ground, and you have to actively jump off into oblivion. I didn't think I could ever bring myself to do it. My racing buddy ES had been nudging me for months, and when we realized we'd be in Ottawa for a Spartan race, she immediately pitched that we go to the Great Canadian Bungee, the highest jump in North America at 60m, situated over a quarry lake, with the option to dip your head into the water! I said, "I'll pay for it, but doesn't mean I'll do it."

The ominous tower under ominous clouds

For weeks leading up to the jump, she and the rest of our race/jump crew were teasing me about it. Every time I thought I'd managed to forget, they'd remind me again. When we drove past the quarry the day before on the way to the Beast, I refused to even look at the tower. I didn't have much choice the next day at registration, and they even had a live video feed of the jumpers playing at the desk! Thankfully we had signed up for a "warm-up run" on the Rip-Ride zipline, which also runs over the quarry, and is actually much shorter than I pictured. I've learned to take things in small steps, and still refusing to believe that I'd do the bungee jump itself, I looked forward to the horizontal ride instead.

Imagine our delight when we found out that we had to trek up a hill with our harness in tow to get to the jump towers. I arrived at the zipline just after MK, who was all strapped in and was being lowered into a horizontal position as the tower gate slowly opened. I'm glad I got to see that so I knew what to expect. Once strapped in, you get lowered face-down towards the quarry, and they just let you go. I was buoyed by the fact that I wasn't scared at all on this ride, and I just enjoyed the beautiful view on the ride across. "Wheeeeee!"

We had arrived a bit late and technically had to get squeezed in later for our bungee jump, so we waited at the scenic lookout. I finally allowed myself to watch as sucker after sucker took the plunge off the end of a long crane and into the lake, swinging this way and that way, nearly crashing into the quarry wall from our vantage point. All my friends planned to get dipped in the water, which I thought was extra-crazy. But everyone else there was doing it... Our turn finally came to join a group of about 10 people, and away we went back up the hill, then up the vertical steps of the jump tower. I'm a firm believer in symbolic talismans, so I had donned my original Soldiers of Fitness training t-shirt, which had gotten me through so many apparently insurmountable obstacles in the past.

The first staff member we met told us that we would be sent off in order of weight, with lightest going first. Um, that would be me. I had actually toyed with the idea of volunteering to go first, not just to get it over with, but because that conscious decision would somehow help me make the decision to step off the tower. Well, not much of a decision now! He explained that for those going into the water, you should break the surface with your arms overhead, chin down. Also, if you really wanna get wet, do a more forceful jump. What do I need this information for??

He then asked me if I wanted to go in by my ankles or by my waist - if you're gonna go, do it right! Ankles it is. He strapped me in, and I took the long walk out along the crane, shuffling my feet like a condemned prisoner in leg-irons. I didn't really say goodbye to my friends because I didn't want to get any looks of pity or encouragement. I would have to jump by myself, so it was time to disconnect from all support. The few hours we'd spent on site and the ride on the zipline had actually really taken the edge off my fear by now, but I still didn't allow myself to think too much about what was ahead.

At the end of the crane, two other friendly staff put me into a secondary waist harness that clicked into the ankle straps. They asked if I wanted to get dipped. I answered with a resounding, "umm... I dunno... maybe? Yeah? I dunno..." I'd soon find out how they chose to interpret that! They tried to small-talk me, but I couldn't concentrate. I only had one task ahead. The whole process was very quick. They each checked all the straps and carabiners, verbalizing everything and giving me all the confidence in the world in the equipment and in their skills. I would be totally safe doing this jump, and the only fear left would be my fear of heights itself.

They had me shuffle to the edge. I looked down for the first time at the beautiful blue water below. I had no worries. I let my rational mind prevail; I knew I'd be safe. In those few seconds, I realized how much I'd wanted to jump and feel the freefall. I wasn't excited, just serenely happy. The boys gave me a loud five-second countdown, and...

Watch for my adorable kicking feet!

I just let go and fell away from the tower. As with skydiving, that first second when you're not touching anything, and before you really start to accelerate, is the most wonderful feeling you can imagine. It's freedom. It's bliss. If only I could capture that feeling of weightlessness and hold onto it for a bit longer.

But the earth starts coming up real fast, so much so, that the picture in your mind gets broken up, like a camera with too few frames per second. I saw the water very close, I felt the pull of the cord, and I hit the water. In no time, I was pulled back up to about 50m, and I briefly couldn't get a breath in. I started spinning like crazy, or rather, the quarry started spinning around me! I had tried not to yell, but what the jump does to you physically makes that kind of impossible. After a few more bounces, I started to relax and enjoy the gorgeous view again. I remember yelling, "it's so beautiful!!!"

The bungee finally settled down, and a little pontoon boat motored in as I was lowered towards the water. Still upside-down, I was plucked from the air, and collapsed in a dizzy heap on the bottom of the boat. I couldn't be happier.

I wobbled onto dry land in time to see ST jump next. Then a bit of a wait until the rest of our peeps got their chance, everyone with a different style coming off the tower. I was feeling a bit sick from what is really quite a rough ride. But I was thrilled.

I had looked down off the tower, and I'd stepped off. Just like that.

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Oh, so when the staff on the bungee tower get off their shift, do you think they climb back down the stairs, go all the way around the quarry, and back down the hill? Nuh-uh.