14,600

14,600 Feet.  That's how high we were before I halfway willingly could have fallen to my death.  Good news is, I'm writing this today, so I apparently made it to the ground safe and sound. 

A little back story.  Adam has wanted to go sky diving for as long as I can remember.  I figured that if I were going to do it, I would rather do it in Hawaii, where there would be something to look as, as opposed to Skydive Aggieland.:) 
It was a little bit of an adventure to get to do it, and part of me was secretly hoping it wouldn't happen the second try.  You see, we picked like the windiest week ever to be in Hawaii.  Do you know what is bad for jumping out of a plane?  Wind.  So the first attempt was the day of the wedding, so on Sunday.  We get there at 8:30, our appointment time.  Which apparently in the world of sky diving, as nothing to do with anything.  So we wait around, wait, wait wait.  Finally Adam goes and tells them if we are not in the air by 11, they might lose us because we had somewhere we needed to be at 2:15.  Low and Behold we are in the next group called.  I forgot to mention, that Adam's life long friend, Megan was there with us.  So we get our harnesses on, our instruction from our tandem experts, ( Mine happened to be from Arlington, it's a small world) we receive our one minuet call to board the plane.  Then it happens.  The other sky dive location, cancelled for the rest of the day.  HALLELUJAH, I was saved.  For that day at least.
Needless to say, I was slightly bummed because I wasn't as freaked out as I thought that I would be.  Adam and Megan were really bummed because well, they WANTED to do it.  So we pledged that we would come back first thing in the morning.  So off to the wedding we headed.  We all processed to drink our fair share of booze at the open bar wedding, and stayed out really late, I'm talking like 1 am people.  So when the 5 am alarm went off, I don't think any of us were very happy. 

We got there, I think we were like the second people there.  We were in group two.  It was all way too real.  It was actually going to happen.  I was going to jump out of a plane.  The things I do for my husband.
I'll tell you what the worst part was.  How many people they shoved into that tiny plane.  You know, the little ones that you always hear about blowing up?  Well there were a ton of us in it.  It was loud, and very slow.  Once we took off, we were in it for what felt like forever. I forgot to mention, that Adam wanted to pay $30 MORE to go higher, a longer free fall.  Yippie!  So after like what felt like 30 min, I asked how high we were.  Do you know what it was?  like 7,000... we were only half way there.  Damn.  They really give you time to think about your life, and the kids you might not ever see again on that damn plane. 
So we were finally there, at 14,600 feet.  Time to go.  Luckily we decided not to pay the $115 for a photographer, though some of my pictures would be hilarious.  I had my fists clenched, and my eyes closed, and probably dropped the "f-bomb" about 1500 times in the supposedly 60 second free fall. 

I've been asked several times if I ended up liking it.  The answer to that question is NO.  I hated it.  The free fall was terrible, once the parachute was out, I didn't mind gliding, which further confirms my theory that I would love para sailing.  I would never do it again, but hey, at least I lived to tell the story, and I didn't faint on the way down!:)