Pulling and pushing at once, I lift off the ground, pressing my cheek against the smooth, cool stone. Ever scanning for my next hand hold, I know I cannot remain in one position too long. Already I feel my left toe slipping, loosing its grasp. My mind focuses, exploring the possibilities, thrill surging my pulse.
Moving on without hesitation, maintaining three points of contact, I quickly scale the 15 feet to the first landing. Balancing on one foot and then the other, I feel my breath catch with excitement as I teeter on the edge and then move on to the next and highest ledge.
Looking out over the pool that awaits, fear seeps in. Excitement, rushes through my veins, reflexively turning up the corners of my mouth. To calm myself, I chatter on to onlookers, to myself. What do I fear most? The distance, the impact? No... the cold, definitely the cold.
In mid-sentence, I step off the edge, surprising the witnesses... myself. I hear a scream of joy, of fear, of ecstasy, echoing off the cliff, my scream. As I plummet into the icy water, my knees pull up into a ball, my arms pull down to slow my descent. Enveloped by the clear emerald waters, the suns rays pierce the surface, illuminating the four feet of water above my head. It is like gazing up through a massive green marble.
A succession of resolute and furious kicks send me bursting through the river’s surface. My lungs gasp, not so much for air but in reaction to the crushing cold. Half way to the bank my chest seizes to the chill, I can not breath. My too-often-taken-for-granted arms and legs do not fail, but carry me to the bank. With unexpected effort, I crawl from the water. Falling upon the beach in exhaustion, I wrap myself in the warmth of the sand, struggling for breath, laughing for joy, beaming from ear to ear, gratefully knowing I am alive.
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