The Bigger the Hill, The Harder I Fall

My hands are getting sweaty and I feel like I am going to throw up.  I am nine years old standing in line with my family waiting to get on a roller coaster.   The roller coaster looks like it would be a lot of fun.  Everyone in my family is talking excitedly.  But I am quietly looking at every turn and every hill watching the cars race through and listening to the screams of its riders.   The closer we get to the front of the line the harder it is for me to stand still.  I rock from foot to foot and on top of feeling nauseas and sweaty I have to pee.  I am not smiling, I am not laughing, I am not talking excitedly.  Just as we get to the front of the line I turn to my Mom and say, “I can’t” and leave the line.  She just smiles.  She has been through this with me before.  

Flash forward 40 years and I am in line to go on Splash Mountain with my husband, Jon and the boys.  They are all laughing and chatting but I am unusually quiet, trying to concentrate on not throwing up.  I wanted to go on Splash Mountain because everyone looks like they are having such a good time on the ride.  It’s one of my boys’ favorite rides, how could I possibly NOT enjoy it?  As we get closer to the front of the line my stomach is in knots and I’m not sure I can go through with it.  But Jon encourages me and I get on the boat a bundle of nerves.  We sail through the first part of the ride through the chutes past the animatrons.  But I’m not watching them because all I can think of is that big hill at the end and how am I ever going to survive it?  I’m terrified just thinking about it.  I lean back into my husband and he wraps his arms around me.  He knows how hard I am trying to not freak out.  

As we head up the incline to the top of the big hill I can feel my stomach has already moved into my chest.  I grip the sides of the log and start screaming before we even start to go down.  I close my eyes and scream the entire way down the hill.  And when I get to the bottom I am fine.  I am FINE.  I feel good.  I am proud of myself that I did it.  I have an adrenaline rush.  I’m also relieved because I have proven that I can do it.  And finally after many more trips to Disneyland and many more terrifying waits in the line for Splash Mountain, one day I could stand in line without being afraid.  I realized I was chatting with Jon and the boys and not just standing there trying to keep my shit together.  What a glorious day that was!!  My fear of Splash Mountain was gone.  

I have spent a good part of my life trying to like roller coasters.

Every time the family went to an amusement park Jon and all of the boys would go on every roller coaster.  And I would stay behind and just watch.  It looked like fun.  I thought I SHOULD like roller coasters.  Everyone who I ever watched go on one came off laughing and happy and exhilarated. I loved the speed but I did not like the stomach drop and I always got the stomach drop no matter how hard I tried not to.  And truthfully, it wasn’t the ride itself that was the worst part of it, it was the waiting in line, the fear before getting on the ride. 

When I was a child my mother always told me that if I am ever scared on a ride I should scream.  She told me it would release all of that fear and help me feel better.  Fear is excitement without the breath she would tell me.  And so I did and she was right.  It was always easier if I screamed.  

One time I went on a ride at Universal Studios.  Except for seeing the people coming down the last little bit and splashing into the water screaming and laughing, the entire ride was inside so you could not see how big the biggest hill was.  This was my conversation with the ride operator:

Me:  Does this ride have a big hill? 

Him:  Yeah, yeah it does. 

Me:  How big is the big hill? 

Him:  I don’t know, just big. 

Me:  Is it as big as Splash Mountain’s big hill? 

Him:  Yeah I guess, maybe bigger. 

Me(getting anxious):  Is it bigger than Splash Mountains big hill?

Him:  Not sure. 

Me:  Well you need to be sure.  I need to know if it is bigger than Splash Mountain’s big hill so I can decide whether or not I should go on it.   I need to know how big this big hill is!! 

Him (backing away from me):  Um, yeah, yeah, it’s bigger than Splash Mountain. 

Me:  How much bigger?

This was when Jon stepped in and saved the poor guy.  He took me by the hand and said “You’ll be fine” and we entered the ride.  

Now I survived that ride but barely.  The big hill on that ride was not only bigger than Splash Mountain’s biggest hill but it was so big and so long that I ran out of scream halfway down the hill. And you can bet that when I got off that ride I went straight to that ride operator and told that little motherf*cker that the hill was in fact twice as big as Splash Mountain just for his information.  

Some scary rides do not look the least bit inviting to me.  Bungee jumping does not look like fun - it looks like it would hurt.   Those big huge water slides at water parks do not look fun to me.  All I see is the potential for a giant wedgy.  The rides that go upside down do not look fun to me.  I have no desire to go on any of those rides.  But roller coasters, roller coasters look like they should be fun and yet, and yet . . . I just can’t get myself to go on them. 

I would like to be able to face roller coasters the same way I face the rest of my life.  The fear of success, failure, embarrassment or pain has never held me back from doing something I really wanted to do in my life. I just push aside the fear and go from there.  With roller coasters I can’t handle standing in line to get on.  It’s always the anxiety and fear while waiting in line that stops me.  I suspect that if I could just walk right onto that roller coaster and go I would probably be ok.  Maybe not.  But I like to think I would.