On the 11th of October, I jumped out of a plane for charity…
Bare in mind, the sky dive was booked for April but due to our lovely friend Covid 19, we had to re schedule. Now, I can’t tell you how awkward it is to synchronise everyone’s schedule to find a day we could all do it, therefore doing it a second time was even more tedious. No offence girls… So, at the point of doing it, I was already so done with it.
For the whole year of 2020, I knew I was doing a skydive, therefore that sinking feeling of potential death had been lurking inside me since. All through the first few unknowingly months and lockdown, it was there for me to think about it. I think the build up of it (being longer than expected) allowed me to build up the nerves even more. Looking back now, I think I was more scared of the way I would feel before doing it then actually doing it.
ON THE DAY:
I think the hour drive there distracted me, partly because I am a terrible driver and thinking about anything else but driving would be dangerous for me and the people in my car. However, on the way there, as we got closer to the venue, we turned a corner and the sky lit up. We were met by parachutes filling up the sky. And seeing that, I did absolutely shit myself then, and at the same time swerve the car and nearly drove us off the road. Like I said, I’m a terrible driver…
Arriving at the airfield, I was scared we were late… boy was I wrong. The airfield was very behind, meaning we were waiting a while to jump. Obviously, these things happen and I am fully aware of the extent of dickhead people can be in customer service, so I tried to keep my impatience to a minimum, but at the same time it’s difficult to keep your cool when you know what is about to happen. We waited over two hours before the first girls from our group were called. For reference, there was ten of us.
The two girls called up first happened to be my besties. And not to sound like a child, I wanted to go first. I didn’t want to watch everyone else do it, I wanted it over and done with. So, they went off, had their training and then drove away on the back of a super cool red pick up truck. After that a few more girls were called, we all watched as they drove away on the back of the truck, waving.
When the girls landed, they were absolutely buzzing and me, I was a green monster, seething with envy that they had done it, and I was still waiting. At this point all nerves had gone, I was in full brat mode, my bad mood taking over any nerves lurking in my body. I was DONE, sick of waiting. I am aware that this behaviour wasn’t very festive of me, but that’s the truth.
FINALLY, my name was called. Finally, I could go. So, I went over along with the rest of my group. They sat us down, giving us a safety brief, a very quick brief. It didn’t feel long enough for something so life threatening. I’ve had longer lectures on why I should look left and right before crossing the road. Anyway, in conclusion all I need to do was remember three things:
Something about a banana
Crossing and uncrossing my arms at the right time
And the most important one – LIFT YOUR FREAKING LEGS UP WHEN LANDING – unless you want to break your legs
And then it was time to go. Time for the cool red truck to come and collect us and whisk us away. Oh wait, no. The plane needed refuelling, so we had to walk to it… Now, I know this seems like a tiny detail but you can probably tell how excited I was to do that since I have mentioned it so much. And also, the tiny details really count when you may be living the last twenty minutes of your life…
When you get onto the plane, you aren’t actually strapped to the person, they do that while you are going up, which is MAD. You are literally putting your life into someone’s hands you briefly met 15 minutes before. 15 minutes is not enough time to work out if a person is a melt or not. Being strapped to someone is a little weird, especially during this climate when we are all trying to distance. Don’t get me wrong though, when jumping out of a plane, the closer the better. So, we all sit on the plane, in a line straddling a wooden bench. Then suddenly, the plane was then filled up with all the solo flyer. They all looked super cool, with their stylish skydive outfits and parachutes attached to them. And there was me… with a human strapped to me. I felt like a bit of a nerd, especially since one of the guys was pretty good looking, but I guess this is not the time for me to be impressing anyone and being brave.
The plane took off, and I would like to mention, for anyone who wants to do a skydive, it actually takes quite a while to get up there. When going up, I was expecting my nerves to go crazy. But strangely I was numb, I couldn’t feel anything at all. It was weird, especially since the going up was what I was more afraid of. I was scared of how scared I was going to feel. I guess, it didn’t feel real and that’s why I went numb, or perhaps I was still being a moody bitch. Either way, I am thankful for the numbness.
Once we were way above the clouds, and I was finally starting to get comfortable, the doors flew open, and the solo jumpers just threw themselves out. And fuck me, at this point I was thinking oh shit. I’m not joking, they literally just disappeared out of the plane.
Like the little wimp I am, when my instructor slowly lowered me down the bench, I shut my eyes, I’ll admit it (well I can’t lie, they got it on camera). I didn’t want to look down and then realise I wasn’t actually up for it anymore. It would’ve been too late to back out anyway. Another thing I was scared about was leaning out of the plane, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to pull my legs back far enough and we would be waiting for ages, hanging out the plane. That was not the case at all. They don’t give you any notice really, they just go and before you know it you’re falling. I made sure to open my eyes, I had to see it, to experience it. To be honest, as much as falling feels amazing, I was above the clouds and there wasn’t anything you could see. The falling was the best part. I screamed and it felt good. If you’re jumping out of a plane, scream. Then my teeth got cold so I had to shut up.
Then my moment came. The photographer was in front of me, snapping away. I knew I had to get a good photo, the perfect insta photo, otherwise it wouldn’t of happened. I went for my signature, ‘WAAAZZUPPP’ tongue out pose…
Yea, it didn’t come out as well as I had hoped…
Also, just to add. Having a photographer stick a camera in your face and having you pose is still super awkward, even when you’re 15,000 feet high… You may be falling to your death but you are still fully aware of them there, and fully aware of your need to pose.
The parachute opened and I was flung upright. For a second time stops. I had a mega wedgie and you’d think being up there and seeing EVERYTHING, it would be the last thing on your mind, but it wasn’t. The view was amazing, the sun felt amazing shining on me.
At this point I had the realisation that perhaps having a hangover wasn’t a great idea… I really thought I was going to throw up.
I wonder what happens if you’re sick? Like is it too high up? Or is there some unlucky fucker sitting in their garden getting hit with sick?
Anyway, slowly I caught my breath and was appreciating the view below me. It really was incredible, I could see everything. It was mostly fields but really tiny fields. I could also see Nottingham, which is probably nothing to the people who jump out of a plane in Dubai but it still is pretty cool.
It was then, my instructor did some flips and tricks. I am a cool girl, a thrill seeker I could handle it? No, it was awful and it was doing nothing for my wedgie. He asked if I liked it and I didn’t want to see lame, I was also aware of the girls down there watching, so I said yea. He did it even more, and I was like woooo but at the same time holding on for dear life…
Then it came to landing. My moment came, my one job. He gave me my signal, it was time to lift my legs. I did, but nothing happened. I realised then, I couldn’t feel them. They had gone all jelly. I was getting closer to the floor. Everyone was shouting at me, telling me to lift my legs. I tried to reach down and pull my legs up but I couldn’t reach… My legs weren’t listening at all. As I got even closer, the people at the bottom who were there to catch me, ran forwards, with a look of horror. That’s when I knew that it was going to hurt. So, I prepared myself for the pain. This might sound psychopathic or whatever but I was comforting and telling myself I was going to break my legs, and it was going to hurt but also be ok.
With all that drama, I didn’t break anything I just face planted the floor. The instructor was all good too. To be fair to him, he was very nice to me afterwards considering I nearly broke him.
Finally, it was done. The thing I was dreading for the whole year was done. One word to describe it would be uncomfortable. But, another is amazing! Just make sure you wear comfy knickers and use toothpaste for sensitive teeth.
So in conclusion, if you’re scared of jumping out of a plane, be a moody bitch like me and the nerves won’t get to you.
Anyway, I just wanted to share this experience, and if you’re thinking about doing one, DO IT. We were able to raise £3975 for When you Wish Upon a Star.
P.S all Covid safety restrictions were followed…
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