My first attempt.
The scariest moment – besides climbing up, standing on the way-too-tiny platform and having to practically stretch horizontal while entrusting my life to the guy holding on to my harness – is letting go of the bar. But it is just the most exhilarating thing. What you see is as much a hands-raised-in-upside-down-victory as it is a knee hang.
On the second day. Attempting a catch. One would think after six times I wouldn’t be scared anymore. Well, I have news. It just does not work that way.
The feeling of relief and I’m-going-to-pull-this-off that I got when I saw my catcher coming up at me is amazing. I’m supposed to be a writer but I have no words. Would I do it again? Hell, yeah.
