2 Seconds of Courage: Bungee Jumping in NZ

I am an absolute adventure junkie at heart. Honestly, I am always trying to get a thrill- from grocery cart surfing down the condiment aisle in my local Jewel, to zip lining through the Costa Rican rainforest, you name it, I'll try it. But there's an exception to my love of adventures- if it could jeopardize my life, count me out. 

As I continued to get to know New Zealand, and learn the Kiwi way of life, I realized I would be an idiot if I left the country with no crazy story to tell. So when the time came, we pulled up to AJ Hackett's Kawaru bungee bridge, I couldn't let my cousin Zoe be the only one to jump. Something about their 100% success rate, and that they were so confident no one would die that they don't have anyone sign liability waivers convinced me to do it. 

Spanning 50 meters across a spectacular gorge, the Kawaru bungee bridge hovers above the sparkly, glistening Arrow River. I don't actually remember what was going through my mind the day I jumped, fear clouded my memories and my adrenaline took over. I was SO panicked. Foregoing all potential embarrassment for saying this, I have to admit that the crew working on the bridge was a group of 6 of THE most attractive men I have ever seen- them, I remember. They were half the reason I jumped- I couldn't look like a weenie and chicken out!

I blinked, and I was harnessed in, feet tied together, bungee cord attached to my ankles, standing on the edge of a platform 43 meters (129ft.) above the river. I blinked again and I heard myself begging for reassurance that this was safe, that I would be okay. I blinked a third time and was screaming as I hurled myself off of the bridge, plunging down head first, praying that this day wouldn't be my last.

The few seconds on the way back up served as the perfect time to look around. To soak this moment in. And then suddenly, I was falling again. Before I knew it, I was grabbing onto a long PVC pipe and lowered into a rubber zodiac boat, released from the harness, and then hiked back up to where I had jumped from. Below is the never-before-seen footage of me actually doing what I thought I would never have the courage to do. Don't judge it too harshly, I already know I have coined the new move I affectionately call "the chicken" upon my departure from the bridge. 

I guess I would say there is something exceedingly liberating about working up the courage to free fall off of a bridge. All it takes is two seconds of pure, blind, unadulterated courage. The courage to say "I love you", the courage to make a difficult decision, the courage to stand up for what you believe. I'm not saying it was easy, but it sure was worth the internal struggle.