I don’t consider myself an adrenaline junkie. Despite the fact that even just the word “adrenaline” makes my heart beat a little faster, I’m not addicted to its effects. While college life and the YOLO* phenomenon has made me a bit of a thrill-seeker, it’s for me more about new experiences, especially ones that take me out of my comfort zone.
*Note: For the old[er] people out there reading this blog who don’t know what this is (ahem, Mom and Dad) YOLO stands for “You Only Live Once”. Today’s hip hop culture raps about it while the young adult/high school and college-freshman aged facebook population uses it as an excuse for every kind of risky behavior you can think of. Comforting, right? Misuse aside, it is still a popular and respected quotation to live by—more sophisticatedly known as carpe diem, or maybe Abraham Lincoln’s “It’s the life in your years that count.”
Besides, that was the most common advice I heard right before I started college: get yourself out of your comfort zone. In fact, most of us grow up hearing “try new things!” constantly. Early on, it was code for “eat your broccoli and Brussels sprouts”; now, it’s more applicable to actual life experiences. And now, it is the most common advice I give out myself… in whatever advice-giving authority I have.
Sometimes, I’d say I have a lot of this authority. Studying abroad is the epitome of getting yourself out of your comfort zone in college. July 3, 2012: I’ll swear on the books I’m not fluent in Spanish. Nine years of study aside, I only know the classroom stuff, so naturally the thought of being completely immersed in the language and culture is intimidating—like being thrown into a tornado. It is just as exciting as it is nerve-racking; I’m sure I’ve confused both of these emotions.
Most of everyone I’ve talked to who has studied abroad elaborated on a similar emotional experience: the apprehension that builds up during prep for the trip is transformed almost immediately into what becomes the best experience of the student’s life. Indeed, it sounds like a type of adrenaline addiction: a rush or high that rewards the body with “exquisite pleasure or pain relief” after such a huge build-up of nervousness as the body prepares to either “fight or flight” (http://www.pvc.maricopa.edu/puma/apr06/addiction.html).
But it also sounds like the healthy kind of adrenaline addiction since it is one from which I’ll acquire a better understanding of worldwide culture, a proficiency in Spanish in an increasingly-multilingual world, a first-hand practice with independence, and a shot at fulfilling my role as a global citizen… all desired study abroad outcomes and accomplishments I talked about in my essays for scholarship applications.
So if I’m addicted to the adrenaline to come, fine.
When I went skydiving at the end of my first year of college, I could barely speak I was so nervous during the plane ride up to about 13,000 feet of elevation. As a tandem diver, I had an instructor attached to my back, and I will never forget the three seconds right before we jumped out of the plane. We stood on the edge of the open door, on the threshold of indoor comfort and rushing atmosphere, of safety and the near lunacy it must take to front flip out of the side of an airplane, and the instructor began the countdown.
At “ready”, he leaned us forward so the wind at that altitude roared past our faces, loudly enough that it’s the most prominent detail I remember. At “set” he rocked us back over the edge of the plane, so that this time the comparative silence almost broke my eardrums. Then I was scared.
On “go” we were hurtling through the air, back through that atmosphere which I later read hits a skydiver with the mph of a hurricane.
It was exhilarating.
But that climax of overwhelming anxiety right before the adrenaline is transformed into endorphins only had to last three seconds—ready, set, go. Ideally, that would be all it had to last. You can’t stand on the edge of an airplane for weeks rocking back and forth between the hesitation and the thrill; you just close your eyes and jump. That’s what thrill-seeking is all about: you just do it.
Yet hovering on the threshold for weeks and weeks is exactly what I’m forced to do as I count down the time until I leave for Spain and this new language and life experience which awaits me. All I can say about my prep for the trip this summer is how nervous I am to throw myself into this other culture and leave with everything I currently know on hiatus for four months. It’s easy to forget that I’ll be taking classes and studying, especially when I compare the experience to skydiving.
But I’ll take it, even with a ready, set, go that lasts three months instead of three seconds. Bring it, adrenalina.
