My knees buckled.
My face and hands immediately started sweating.
Lightheaded, my stomach felt like someone dumped concrete into it.
My sun-kissed complexion went ghost white.
Stacy’s friend, the Matthew McConaughey-esque Garret! Photo/Stacy McCloud.
Courage is not the absence of fear; courage is being afraid and conquering it.
A person who doesn’t test their limits is rarely courageous. Courage is often forged from fires of failure and tribulations. Built from ruination and made stronger by every storm, courage is found in unexpected people and unexpected situations.
Courage is a firefighter pulling someone from a burning building. It’s the new kids at school introducing themselves to a group of strangers.
Courage is leaving an abusive relationship or quitting a job to start a new business. It’s there when someone stands up for what they believe in.
Courage comes in all sizes and cannot be measured.
When it comes to heights, I admit I have no courage. I am terrified. I don't like elevators or rollercoasters; I avoid ladders. I’m confident that I will die being challenged vertically. However, my demise will most likely happen from a terror heart attack before I make contact with the earth.
In 2014, courage opened an unexpected chapter in my life.
My husband and a friend named Garrett, decided to invest in building and owning a zip line right smack in the middle of Missouri. After it was built and on its way to becoming a tourist destination, we hopped in the truck to leave Colorado and test out the attraction.
On our way through Missouri, we stopped in Kansas City to enjoy a swanky hotel and a great dinner. After dinner, we stumbled across a music district with unique bars — some playing live music, some with bartenders slinging drinks better than in the movie Cocktail. The never-ending entertainment immediately drew me in like a mosquito to the mesmerizing light of a bug zapper. ZAP!
I don’t have to be courageous with my husband around. Collin stands 6 foot 4 inches, weighing nearly 300 pounds — I have nothing to fear. Except, perhaps, Fireball.
That night we befriended one of K.C.’s local radio personalities. Invited to his table and bottomless bottle service, he introduced us to Fireball whisky. I thought I was drinking cinnamon schnapps—it was delicious! ZAP!
Pitbull had just released his future triple-platinum song “Fireball.” The whisky that “Tastes like Heaven and burns like Hell” went from $2 million in sales a year to a whopping $800 million as the song’s popularity grew. It was the number one selling venom slung around Kansas City bars at the time.
We partied with this group until closing.
The next morning my brain thumped so hard that I had to hold my head to keep it from escaping my skull. My eyes throbbed. My mouth was dry. I couldn't form a sentence with my swollen, dry tongue. I was stuck in someone else’s body, and this person was dying an agonizing death. The little devil dancing on the bottle is no coincidence.
With sunglasses, a giant water bottle, and enough Advil to destroy a bull elephant’s liver, I poured myself into the vehicle for the rest of the journey.
The depths to which I test my husband’s patience are uncharted by all but me. As he merged onto the highway, he took my dehydrated left hand, gave it a squeeze, and smiled as he asked if I’d learned my lesson.
I said, “yes.”
Probably.
While the beautiful green drive through the Show Me state did not disappoint, I fell in and out of a nauseous sleep for the remainder of the drive.
“Wow, look
at that—
It’s a flying pig!”
—Garrett, the Matthew McConaughey-esque zip line designer and adventure course expert.
Our friend Garrett has the hypnotic accent, mannerisms, and charm of Matthew McConaughey. With a smile for everyone, it’s no wonder Collin befriended Garret more than a decade before. Garrett had built near 200 ziplines, 20 Ninja warrior courses, 30 high ropes courses and suspension bridges, trampoline parks, element towers with slides and drop fans, climbing gyms, and the only mine-built zip course in the country, which he designed and built. He is likely the world’s foremost expert on adventure courses.
The zip line was closed to the public for the three of us to ride. Saddled up in our harnesses and helmets, we climbed the first platform. Collin strapped onto the course, gave me his side smile, winked, and off he went, yowling and yipping like a coyote being fed a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth. His laughter resonated even after he was swallowed by the dense foliage.
Garrett strapped me onto the line. My knees buckled. My face and hands immediately started sweating. Lightheaded, my stomach felt like someone dumped concrete into it. My sun-kissed complexion went ghost white. All the blood in my body sank to my ankles, preventing me from even shuffling my feet.
Looking over the ledge, I nearly vomited the concrete curdling in my belly. I threw my body backward, landing face up and horizontal on the platform with my eyes closed.
Garrett didn't speak. I imagine it was hard for him to do so without laughing as he’d just watched a grown woman imitate a fainting goat 30 feet in the air.
The pig turned into Albert Einstein, the entwined with another cloud and became the Sinclair dinosaur, then a blob of nothingness…
Eyes shut tightly, I sensed Garrett sit beside me, then I felt the full body quiver a person gets when they're holding back hysterical laughter. If he’d allowed his laughter to explode, he’d never stop. Without a word, he just sat next to me until I was brought back to reality by Collin’s shouts from downline asking if we were okay.
“Yup, we're great!” Garrett optimistically replied.
“Stacy, how you doin’?” he asked, his southern drawl thick.
“I want down. I may throw up. I made a mistake. I want down, please Garrett. Please let me down.” My eyes were still sealed.
“Okay, we can do that. We’ll get down,” he said, lying next to me. “Let's just lie down for a bit first.”
No sooner than he was horizontal, he exclaimed in that charming drawl, “Wow, look at that—it's a flying pig!”
Opening my eyes, I followed the track of his finger to a fluffy white cumulus cloud shaped like a pig with wings. No kidding!
We watched as the pig turned into Albert Einstein, then entwined with another cloud and became the Sinclair dinosaur, then a blob of nothingness. The sky became our own personal cinema, and while our film only lasted 30-40 minutes, it was filled with airplanes, flowers, tennis shoes, Alfred Hitchcock, a school bus, a hammerhead shark, and even a hand giving us a thumbs up. Truly, God has a sense of humor.
Have courage, friends. Photo/Stacy McCloud
In the relaxing, lyrical tones of Matthew McConaughey, Garrett’s soothing voice and calm nature lured me to the edge again. He told me to “trust my equipment” and connected me to the line. Sweat pooled in my gloves as I grabbed the rope.
“You got this,” he said as I stepped off the platform.
The exhilaration immediately hooked me! Over my cheers, I heard the soft hum of my equipment zipping through the timber. I sailed over lush, beautiful forests, cave systems, and rivers. I heard Collin laughing as I came into view.
He caught me as I arrived on the platform. With a big hug and lots of kisses, he said, “I’m so proud of you! Isn’t it great?”
They had to drag me off the darkening course.
I am still afraid of heights, and not even Garrett could talk me out of an airplane strapped to a parachute.
Courage is being afraid and conquering it. Sometimes, we just need to find courage inside ourselves and trust our equipment.
But it helps when Matthew McConaughey is holding your hand.
#zipline #havecourage #faceyourfears #mccloudlife #liveyourbestlife #skingirl #beautyinthebeasts
