But every person who likes roller coasters knows that stage where there's a feeling of curiosity and anticipation when you're in line... waiting...looking up at that roller coaster's height, its twists and its turns and noting the screams of the current riders while your stomach sorta does back flips in excitement. Such persons identify with the adrenaline surge when it's finally your turn and you take a seat, buckle the safety belts/straps, recheck then triple check to ensure you've done it correctly (though an attendant is gonna come and check too).
The questioning stage comes somewhere between the chug chug of the take off and the first plunge when you ask yourself,
"What the (insert preferred word) am I doing on this thing?"
You mentally review your preride check list:
* went to the bathroom - check
*jewellry removed - check
*sufficient time between last hot dog and now - check
And even if you weren't able to 'check' all on your list you know you'll do your best to hang in there. If necessary, you zone out the reality that you just might pee your pants (or worse), lose an earring or throw up in the back of the person seated ahead of you.
Your heart races and your lungs hurt as your peals of mingled delight and fear echo across the park. You vacillate between your eyes shut and seeing the speedy chaos around you; and though you partially look forward to the end of the ride, you know that as soon as you've steadied enough to walk you'll be heading to join the line for another roller coaster ride.
So that has been my response to people when they ask why on earth I took myself half way around the world to a place where a meagre percentage spoke as I did and I didn't understand a word they spoke. I don't want to totally ruin my metaphor by explaining it, but my working philosophy in life is that a person must do at least one thing in their life that excites them so much they are scared by it.
#tryIt
