Completed: 34. Ride a Roller Coaster
Since I was a little boy I’ve been terrified of roller coasters. I hate fast speeds, I’m terrified of heights, and I don’t like the feeling of almost dying.
My dad likes to tell this story about how he and I attempted to ride The Rebel Yell when I was really young and when we got up to board, I couldn’t go on because I was too short. I convinced him to go on the ride anyway, which is hilarious because my dad really hates heights. Also, what a “dad” moment — showing me he was brave enough to go alone. Anyway, when the roller coaster got to the very top, my dad said that he whispered to himself, “Oh my gracious,” dropped 81 feet, and hasn’t ridden on a roller coaster since.
This past year, I decided that this year was the year I would get on that very same coaster my dad bravely tackled in my absence so many years ago. Despite the stupid name, on Jun 7, 2014, I rode The Rebel Yell.
If you’ve ever been on The Rebel Yell, you know that it’s old and rickety crickety. When we got to the very top, I paid homage to my dad and said, “Oh my gracious!”
Then… the drop…
I felt like I was going to seriously die, but that soon was replaced by a rush of excitement and probably over-confidence that I was surviving. At the end of the ride, I felt joy and relief. I had looked fear in the eyes and said, “thanks.”
I looked at Lyssa when we got off and asked, “Do you want to go again?” At that point I was full of crap. I guess I would’ve gone again, but I didn’t REALLY want to go.
Although I did ride a roller coaster, I still don’t like them and will probably never ride one again. The bottom line… you can tell everybody… I’m the man! I’m the man! I’m the man!
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