Courtesy of Rachel Swanson

As I cautiously stepped over the ledge to the 1-foot wide platform, my mind and body were at battle. While my brain was telling me to jump, my legs were saying otherwise, refusing to budge. I wasn’t able to feel my body, and I was completely numb to the fact that I was attached to a full body harness.

I promised myself I wouldn’t glance at what was beneath me. Two seconds later, I had to remind myself to breathe because the view from below had knocked the wind out of my body. I could only lean back against the safety of the bridge, mentally preparing myself for what was to come.

The invisible threshold made me start to question my sanity for wanting to try this.
I was wondering at that point why I hadn’t stuck with my initial plan of shopping for heels. Instead, I was faced with what seemed to be the final moments of my life. The safety of trying on shoes at the mall had never sounded so comforting.

It all started five miles, two hours and 54 minutes earlier.

I was enthusiastic about performing the same jump that Jake Pavelka and Vienna Girardi from this season’s “The Bachelor” performed during their date. I recalled seeing Pavelka, a grown man, practically crying on television as the couple was preparing for the jump.

The only words of reassurance from Ron Jones of Bungee America were, “Just go for it. Go big or go home.”

This advice seemed to be more of an advertisement for Nike than an inspirational speech. It’s also easy to say when you’re a certified skydiver and went through college on a bull-riding scholarship.

This advice didn’t exactly help a petite girl such as myself who favors weekly manicures, commonly wears heels to even the most casual events and can’t get enough rhinestone-embellished accessories. I was certain I was in for one very unique experience. Hopefully a bull rider’s advice pertained to that of a dancer.

After I hiked five miles to the bridge, we all began learning how to perform the jump. During jump school it was sometimes difficult to listen to the instructor, Mykel Sargeant, when frequent screams sounding like bloody murder drowned out his most important pieces of advice.

Luckily, Sargeant joked that no matter how you fall, professionally or with flailing arms and legs, it would still be considered bungee jumping. However, it would come down to either looking like a complete fool or an agile acrobat straight from Cirque du Soleil.

As I watched the two extremes, those who flawlessly achieved a triple front flip during their plummet and those who looked so bad they made even me feel uncomfortable, I hoped to aim for the former.

Suddenly, an hour had gone by. Before I knew it, I was seconds away from my turn.
I found myself frantically asking the instructors obvious questions.

“So, I’ll be stopped a few feet before I hit the bottom, right?”

Watching the rushing river smash into the massive boulders underneath the bridge did not offer any reassurance. It might have been a picturesque scene had I not been jumping straight into it 8212; today, it resembled a fiery pit of hell.

I was considering what the headline would be if I ended up on the front page of the newspaper, if I so happened to land on those boulders below.

This is exactly when Jones’ initial advice came into play. I just had to do it, and that was it.
So, after stalling as long as possible on the platform, a whole 15 seconds, the countdown began.

The staff recited “5-4-3-2-1 BUNGEE” in perfect harmony 8212; and I went for it.
Time virtually stood still as my face advanced faster and faster toward the boulders directly beneath me.

Immediately following what I thought were the last seconds of my existence, an unreal force propelled me back toward where I came from. As I was being retracted, I experienced time in fast-forward. Looking exactly like a human pendulum, I had several daringly close opportunities to reach out and touch underneath the bridge. Between my complete weightlessness, the wind rushing through my hair and the pitch of my scream penetrating every onlooker’s ear drum, I was certain that this time warp replicated the same sensation as time travel.

It’s deemed the most exhilarating, adrenaline-pumping activity in the world 8212; which is definitely an understatement.

I later realized that I probably hadn’t earned many style points. My previous plan was to perfectly execute a swan dive. Unfortunately, it did not turn out as planned. Rather, a mere nosedive existed as my sole bragging right.

My initial question as I stepped over the ledge onto the platform was, “Why would someone ever come up with this?”

This question is now self-explanatory after experiencing the most exhilarating, enlivening event of my life.

I’m no daredevil or adrenaline junkie like the staff at Bungee America, but this once in a lifetime experience turned into something I plan to enjoy again.

8212;Rachel Swanson is a journalism freshman.

8212;This column does not necessarily reflect the opinions of The Daily Aztec.