Write about your strongest memory of heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness: what caused the adrenaline? Was it justified? How did you respond?
Ok, a positive experience for this one.
In the tremendous state of Ohio, there lies the greatest amusement park in the world, Cedar Point. My mom, my brother, and I all flew to Ohio a few summers ago just to go see it. Previously we had gone to Disneyland, which was fun, but it’s a more warm-hearted fun. A park like Playland is fun too, has a few good rides, is closer to home… but the place is tiny, almost claustrophobic. You don’t even need an entire day to get the most out of a park like that. So, we all decided (well, mainly mom, the adrenaline junkie) that it was time for some real rides.
I still get a cold sweat from thinking about the queen of pants-shitting roller coasters, Top Thrill Dragster. The ride accelerates you from zero to 120 miles per hour (translation: about 193 km/hr) to a point 420 feet (≈ 128 metres) in the air. But, before it does that, it gives you an unsettling countdown in the form of a traffic light. Basically, when the light turns yellow, you have no idea when it’s going to turn green. You just get to stare at in sweaty horror, wondering when the launch will come.
We rode it at night. I sat beside my mom the first time. I could see her looking over at me from the corner of my eye as I stared at the green light. “Nervous?” she asked. “Don’t talk to me,” I answered, totally absorbed in fear. It turned yellow. I turned yellow. If dying from being nervous was possible, I would have died.
The launch up is terrifying, but the whole ordeal was over before your brain could register what just happened. Your brain kinda goes like, “Fear, fear, fear, wow the park is beautiful at night, we’re up high, oh god, spare me, fear, fear, done. I’m ok.”
I want to go to Cedar Point again someday soon.