WHOA to Zip

Have you ever gone zip-lining? If you’re the adventurous type, you either have or you want to. If you’re just a dreamer, like me, it sounds awesome. You get to commune with nature as you gracefully glide from treetop to treetop. The birds twitter and trill. Pine scents tickle your nose. The wind whips through your hair.

Naturally, if you’re more cautious (or afraid of heights), the idea of hanging from a cable, fifty feet off the ground, may not appeal. You might go so far as to say, “Whoa! I’m not doing that!”

A few summers ago I got the opportunity to go zip-lining with a group of women. We carpooled to a ski resort that offered zip-lining in the summer.

After the requisite instruction, we rode a ski lift to the top of the mountain. Confession time: I had never ridden on a ski lift before. I didn’t know it was my responsibility to reach up and pull the safety bar onto my lap … while moving up a mountain.

Luckily, the woman riding with me knew how to bring it down, saving me from broken bones and major embarrassment.

On the ride up, I gazed at the ground as it fell farther away and remarked to my ski lift mate, “My husband is afraid of heights.” What I didn’t admit was a new discovery. I, too, was afraid of heights. Whoa!

There is power in “whoa.” It can stop a horse. WHOA also works as a motivational acronym:

Widen your comfort zone;
Harness your inner strength;
Open up to new opportunities;
Achieve your dreams.

A friend of mine had invited me, along with a group of successful women, on the zip-lining adventure. Technically, there should have been two more of us, but they dropped out at the last minute. They got scared. I knew exactly how they felt. I just didn’t know dropping out was an option.

Upon reaching the mountain top, four guides led us toward the first platform. Without thinking I fell into step directly behind them. Of course you know what that meant. I was the first civilian to zip. Whoa!

The first guide zipped ahead to set up the breaking system. That’s right; we had breaks to prevent us from doing a face plant into a tree. We were also suited up with a helmet, a harness and safety straps. The second guide hooked my straps to the cable and said in an exuberant voice, “Are you ready?”

With just as much gusto, I said, “Yeah!” I was lying. I just didn’t want him to know I was afraid.

According to procedure, I yelled to the guide at the next platform, “Ready to zip!”

She called back, “Zip away!”

I clung to my straps and said, “AHHHHH!” the whole way.

If all we did that day was slide down cables, it could have been fun. The more times you do something new, the less scary it becomes. Between each of our zips, however, we had challenges, like climbing rope ladders and rappelling down trees. They even made us cross rope bridges and walk across wires.

Of course at all times our safety straps were connected to the cable overhead so we couldn’t plunge to our deaths. Despite that, they still made us sign a waiver that said we wouldn’t sue them if we died.

Fifty feet up. Afraid of heights. You know how people tell you, don’t look down? How do you not do that? To add to my anxieties, I worried I’d be the only one in this group of professional, successful women who couldn’t do the challenges.

The experience brought back memories of a time when I was eight and climbed to the top of a tall sliding board at a community pool. I looked down … and down … and down. And lost my nerve. I had two choices. I could force myself to go down the slide, or I could turn back. The fact that every rung on that ladder was filled with kids eager to slide into the water should have been a deterrent. Never underestimate the fear of a little kid. I eased past them on my way down, saying, “Sorry. ’Scuse me. Changed my mind.” The kids didn’t care. They were more focused on going up than on me coming down.

Fast forward to the tight-rope challenge. I was supposed to cross a long cable with nothing more for support than a rope hanging down. I felt eight-years-old again, wanting to turn back. This time there was no ladder. And no kids. I was up there with professional women! I didn’t want to fall and embarrass myself. We had a retired high school principal up there. We had a store owner, a motivational speaker, a realtor who sold million dollar properties. And me.

Half way across the wire, I lived my greatest fear. I fell off. It’s okay, I was saved by the safety straps.

After a few false starts and saying “whoa” to the worry that I’d be stuck up there forever, I regained my footing. With the ladies cheering me on, I fumbled and bumbled across.

By the end of the day, after a final zip down a hill and rappelling off a tower, our group landed on the ground. The experience was scary, but moments of growth usually are.

The next time you’re faced with a challenge, give WHOA a try:

Widen your comfort zone,
Harness your inner strength,
Open up to new opportunities, and just maybe you’ll
Achieve your dreams.

Maybe I’ll even see you, gliding among the trees!