I hammer my pedals ferociously, I speed up the 3 foot bike ramp, joyfully take air and BAM, land with a hard bounce. My treads skip across the cul-de-sac like a thin stone glides across a still lake. The exhilaration of the jump at 8 years old is awesome!
My two friends Derek and Johnny follow my lead joyfully taking flight with the same jump. We all land successfully, but can’t stop there. We scurry to accumulate more bricks, rocks or old newspapers from our neighbors to heighten the wooden ramp.
The three of us add more risk by propping it up another 3 - 4 inches. I take another stab at the jump, joyfully land well and then Derek and Johnny follow. This is so much fun!
After each successful jump we decide to take the ramp up a notch with another weather worn newspaper from the neighbor’s yard. We three Evil Kenevil 3rd graders continue with our daring leaps imagining we’re defying death by scaling over snake pits, fire pits or trenches of swords.
The ramp is now over a four foot angle at about 60 degrees. We piece in little stones to attempt to even it out. I take flight again... intoxicated by the speed, the risk and the freedom I feel for that second when I defy gravity. This time, I land a little to the left, swerve and pull out of the near tumble.
Derek hits his pedals, nears the ramp, then swerves right to miss the jump. He circles back around, steadies his resolve, then shoots towards the adrenaline rush, but skids his bike to a stop and refuses to go higher.
Johnny steps over to the ramp, looks at the angle and decides he can do it. He takes flight and successfully lands again!
I rush to add another newspaper. Johnny and Derek hesitate, but then join in to help. I stare at the ramp with a blend of excitement and fear. The height of the rise is daunting.
Johnny shyishly retreats whispering, “I’m not doing this one. You can go.”
Derek silently nods in agreement.
I straddle my Mongoose dirt bike. My hands grip the bars as I deliberate the ultimate jump. I can’t seem to rid myself of the butterflies in my belly. I circle the challenge on my bike a few times to fill up my belly of courage.
After the third orbit, I scream, “I’m going for it!”
I steady on the path of the final vault, I furiously spin my pedals at Olympic rate.
I’m chanting inside, “I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.”
Three feet from the ascent it seems like the incline is 90 degrees... I hear in my head, “No, it’s too high!”
I plow forward as it’s to late to stop. My front tire hits the wood of the incline. The ramp wobbles.
I take air, but something’s wrong.
It’s as though the front of my bike has become lead. The nose of my bike strikes the pavement first.
I catapult over the handle bars skinning on my knees and hands.
THUD... my right cheekbone smacks the tar. I skid to a stop.
I’m bloodied and beaten up by the asphalt, but manage to stand and rush to my house to be patched back together by my eternal medic and reliable healer, MOM!
What happened that day? Many would say that the ramp was simply too high and unstable. Which may be true.
However, being the one behind the handle bars, I still remember the moment of my demise. It wasn’t the steep incline nor the feeble landing. It began with the hesitation of Derek and Johnny. It was sealed three feet before the leap. The trail of doubt that beat inside me assured my fall.
Take note, where are you gaining speed towards your dreams, your vision, your stand in life?
What thoughts, beliefs and people are swaying your ascent?
What are you doing about it?
If you’re ready to soar now, beyond the limiting thoughts and beliefs declare it right now!
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