Back from my jump, and the instructor was a different guy, not my World Team, 13K jumps under his belt. Not that my instructor wasn't good, he just didn't have the complete chill nature that Ernie did, given that jumping out of a plane is as normal to him as opening a door. :) My new guy only had 4000 jumps under him. Lol. (Only!!! Can you imagine?)

More exciting energy, in other words. Dave, my guy today, had me train on "circles" which means we jump out, you go into your arch, and you make a "circle check." Horizon, altimeter, check him giving me an ok on the left, an ok on the right, back up to the horizon, and practice my ripcord pull three times. (When you move your right hand to your hip, you have to move your left hand at the same speed over your head or you'll go into a spin.) Circle again, then enjoy the free fall until 5,500, wave, and pull. Did it all, no prob, he gave me high marks for handling everything "like the book."

We're under canopy and he gets me to put my hands in the canopy rigging to control our descent. COOL. That's pretty awesome - check right to make sure you're not going to hit anyone (because that's the stuff that will kill you) and pull right. Wheee! When it came time to land, there's a process in pulling the cables to your ears, one, to your chest, two, point your toes and pick up your feet and three, jam those cables to your crotch and scoot in, run run run, stop. YAY.

Everything was going PERFECTLY until Dave worried that maybe I wouldn't have the strength to pull the cables hard and down to my crotch so he grabbed them, too, and ended up over-correcting our break, which led to me getting my right knee under us, which crumpled, and he landed on top of me. D'oh! For a frightening split second, I worried that I'd broken my leg. I didn't. I've got ice on it now, and am making myself walk around every 20 minutes to keep it loose. Ooof.

He clearly didn't know I've been P90Xing it and totally had the strength to pull the cables on my own. (I even wore a tank top to show off my bi's and tri's, lol.) He apologized and said he was impressed with how strong I turned out to be. *head desk*

I go back on Sunday for my next lesson, "Leg Awareness." Pfft, one little goof won't deter me. (Dave said that normally when people land bad, they land BAD. He said we just landed awkward. Says the guy who wasn't on his leg... Heh.)

Some of the guys on the plane up with me remembered me from my first jump and were happy to see me back. They were jumping, working on formations, landing and immediately switching their packs with additional ones, jumping right back in the plane and jumping again. (Pro packers take their gear and pack them in between jumps.) They'll probably do 20 - 25 jumps today. Whoa.
When you get to the skydiving place, they weigh you. The tandem weight limit is 210 for the new jumper, so they want to make sure you + your tandem master isn't over the total limit. I hop on the scale and call my weight out to the gal writing my info down, because I am not self conscious. Hey, I've been busting my butt, right? So with clothes and heavy shoes I was at 135. No big.

Another girl came in to get weighed, and she had that "I'm being a daredevil for my boyfriend so he'll ask me to marry him" vibe about her. Now, I'm going to be bitchy, but I feel that I have the right (you will, too, I believe.) She's shorter than me, petite, but in that soft, no muscle tone kind of way. Flat chested. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just an observation I make. (Triangle legs with no definition.) I jokingly cover my eyes and back away, because let's face it: we girls don't like to advertise our weight.

She laughs a bit, then wags her finger at me and says, "Uh oh, you left your weight up here! Now I know that you're 135!"

The hell? Good thing I'm not conscientious about that. Then she says smugly, "I'm only 132. Ha."

I almost ALMOST said, "Well, boobs and muscle weigh more than little boy chests and flab. Also, you're two inches shorter than me, so..."

But I didn't, because I'm a fu*&ing lady. I mean, honestly. Who does that? And now, I'm going to go eat my delicious lunch after burning 760 calories in my workout. And then I'm booking jump #2 for the weekend after next. THAT IS HOW I ROLL.

[Off topic, I got an iPhone for my birthday, and guys, I'm so phone stupid it's not even funny. I wanted to trade in my blackjack for a Jitterbug. LOL. But I LOOOOVE it. Now I need apps! Isn't there one for Kindle? I got a facebook one, one for LJ, and... what else do I want? Teach me, oh wise, hip flist.]
*Hahaha, thanks, Lynne for the title. :D

Massive post about my new lifestyle: flinging my body out of planes! Pictures included, and head's up: they're big, and there's a lot of them. Every time I've stepped outside since the jump, I've been looking up. )

Yeah. I'm hooked. [ETA] I forgot to mention what those pink puffs on my sleeves and legs are: those are for forming formations with other divers. They swoop to you, and grab hold so you can make stars, circles, etc. A bunch of the people that went up with me on the plane were in the World's Record for largest formation in a jump - 400 people! Awesome. [You can see them practicing their moves on the ground.] And once you're certified, you can go whenever, where ever. It's about $25 bucks a jump at that point. You're just paying for the gas and pilot's time. They folks with me did something like 7 jumps that day. !!!
Pretty big picture (just one) under the cut. Video etc. to come later. Blue skies..... Nothing but blue skies.... )

I landed, hugged everyone, high fived, and then walked in and booked jump #2. I'm now officially a junky (and in the AFF school.) I'll be doing all of those sweet barrel rolls and formation jumps in no time.

Now, I go take a nap - I got maybe four hours of sleep last night. :)

June 2017

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