July 13th, 2010 | 6 comments | Skydiving

25 jumps to my A-license. 25 things on the list. 25 years on this planet. 25 minutes of freefall so far. 25 is looking to be a promising number, and an incredible year.

This weekend, I earned my A-license. I’m coming to find out that this skydiving thing is much, much larger than throwing myself out of airplanes.

There’s a whole lifestyle and attitude adjustment that comes with this sport. Some people only do it once. Some people jump on the weekends. Some people drop everything and make this their life. Regardless of which path you choose (or which path chooses you, perhaps), if you’ve done it at least once, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

The addiction starts with freefall. But it isn’t limited to freefall, though freefall is pretty damn fantastic. For me, it’s a lot of things. I’ve always been incredibly in tune with my senses when it comes to things that I enjoy. In rowing, for example, a huge part of my obsession with the sport was the sound of oars locking and the swish as they came out of the water. With skydiving, it’s the smell of jet fuel. The hot air that blows from the propeller as you get on the plane. The sound of audible altimeters beeping at 1,000 feet and seatbelts coming off. The sound the wind makes when you stick your body out of the plane and that resistance you feel until you let go. And it’s the taste of that first beer after an amazing day of jumping, where you swear beer has never tasted so good.

The addiction isn’t just to the actual sport of skydiving, either. It’s about the people. An environment where everyone is always learning, and regardless of who you are, you’re welcome there. Where there is a really low tolerance for bullshit and assholes. For me, there are a handful of skydivers at the DZ that I feel like I’ve known for much longer than the month I’ve been there. It’s about hearing everyone’s stories about their first jump and how they got to where they are today in the sport, whether they’re a fun jumper, an instructor, or an old-timer who is retired and sharing stories of the “good ole days.”

The addiction isn’t just to the sport itself or the people. It’s also the personal growth that you experience with each and every jump. My first jump was huge because I actually did it. I had been talking for months about how I wanted to get my A License but I had questioned whether or not I’d actually be able to do it. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get stable in freefall or fly the canopy. My graduation jump was nothing short of incredible. The actual skydive, technically, could have been way better – I’m still trying to figure out how to side slide. But that jump totally rocked my world because I did it. I was with the same instructors as I was on my first jump and though it may have been my last jump as a student, it was a day full of firsts.

It was worth the wait. All of the wind and weather holds, sunburns, repeated levels, bruises from hard openings, ridiculous amounts of beer I had to buy, the written and unwritten rules associated with AFF, all of that was worth it. I couldn’t wipe this goofy grin off of my face if I tried. I can’t wait to see where things go from here!

I did it!

Up next: I’m looking for gear. And that bag of cash that I hid somewhere.