Personal Essay
The Personal Essay
“There is no way this thing is safe.” I snapped to my companion. “We’ve been on
this chair for like 15 minutes, it is way too big, and I can’t believe your dad wants to go down this run!” It was a struggle to make my voice heard over the creak of the chairlift and the wind howling over the crest of the mountain. “Turn around and take a look,” he said. “You’ll be surprised.”
My stomach dropped, trees and snow swirling around. “I shouldn’t be up this high.” I kept thinking, over and over again. Both thrilling and terrifying, I was a miniature an[SS1] t staring down from the top of a fridge. The earth was a face with flawless complexion, save for Mt. Bachelor, a stubborn, white-capped zit. Unlike the passes of Washington I was familiar with, this was a certifiable mountain, dominating everything around it for what could have been hundreds of miles. I felt awed, and extremely insignificant. This moment in my life was utterly terrifying, but something I needed to face. In doing so, I learned to never hesitate to rise to a challenge.
The chair’s cable ran steeply overhead, almost unbearably so, until we finally reached the top. Our arrival was greeted by a sharp blast of icy wind. The madman [SS2] responsible for our excursion to the top had already disappeared over the cliff-like edge, instantly disappearing from view. “Figures.” I thought, frustrated with Jake’s dad for bringing us up her. To add to my anger, I face planted right off the lift, my face burning with shame. I crawled towards the edge with nothing but sky in view. My fear grew. “I’m on the last safe ground.” I thought, as my instincts screamed to cling to the only three feet of flat ground in any direction. My pride had taken a blow as well as my confidence. But at my most vulnerable, I had to strive forward. I had never been this afraid snowboarding, or at least since I was eleven. But it turned out that fear could be motivation.
The chattering of my teeth almost overpowered the quaking of my knees. But loudest of all was the internal shrieking of my fear. “Monica! Monica? Hey!” Jake struggled to get my attention. My head snapped up from the open air in front of me. “Are you ready?” he shouted. I remained silent, breath coming too quickly. It was now or never. I had to take a leap of faith. Like life, this run was something that must be faced, and the sooner the better.
“The only way down is down. I have to do this. I have to get down from here.” I thought inside. Outside, I simply weakly said yes. When he still couldn’t hear me, I leapt up and slipped over the edge. Surprisingly, the ground was still there. I almost let out an exulted whoop once I realized I wasn’t entering free fall, until a new terror made my stomach sink. I had absolutely no control over my speed.
Faster and faster I went, the icy mountainside making ever louder scraping sounds under my board as I carved deep into the snow in an attempt to slowdown. [SS3] Tears streamed from my eyes, the cold, wind, and speed wreaking havoc on my vision. Surprisingly, I was having the most fun I had ever had in my life. I had gone from thinking I was about to die, to feeling completely alive. Taking a risk proved to be beneficial to me.
In life we are often confronted with challenges. Things that seem impossible or dangerous are waiting to ambush us every day. My experience with a tangible terror like the double diamond run armed me with a life strategy to confront other problems (emotional, spiritual, economic) with an open mind. Not with courage, because fear is instinctual and I showed plenty at Mt. Bachelor, but with determination to learn and try as much as possible. I was dead set against my journey down the mountain, but it wound up being tremendously exciting and a part of my personal philosophy. If I hadn’t just decided to tackle the issue head on, I would have regretted it my entire life, knowing inside I wasn’t willing to try and overcome an obstacle. I am pleased to say that I have become one of the fastest snowboarders I know, and also swift to take action when a problem is present. There is no way I’ll pass up on a chance to grow out of fear.
