Addicted to adrenaline

Last Sunday I decided to sample the roller coaster slides at Splash Waterworld. There are two types. A covered tunnel and a second one that is open. Let’s talk about the covered one. I see my troop having so much fun at the exit of the tunnel. In my head I am like, Amakove, this looks easy despite your fear of heights. And up the long flight of stairs I haul my pretty self. The ascent is enough exercise. Good that I don’t pant so much. The cycling is paying off for this couch potato. At the top is a deck. Exiting from the deck are the two tunnels. There is a continuous supply of water gushing down.

Perhaps this was not a good idea after all. I think. There are a few teenagers milling around. Some young kids shove me to the side as they make their way to the tunnels. Soon they are screaming down into oblivion. I feel faint. My stomach is churning. I move towards one of the walls. Wrong decision. I am soon staring almost 2 km down to the earth. It seems 2km anyway. I see the little beings moving on the ground. They look like ants. I shift my gaze to the notice board. Some warning disclaimer. You do this at your own risk. What more do I need? The writing is on the wall. Literally! I think about turning back. Just go down the stairs, Amakove. Back to the normal world. You’ve got nothing to prove. You’ve got four kids and a cat! Imagine what would happen to them?

Suddenly one of my daughters shouts, “Mommy, let’s go!” And that was it. I couldn’t let her down. She hopped onto the mouth of the closed tunnel and it swallowed her. Whole.

My turn. I sat down. You have to sit down. Before I could figure out how to position myself, I felt someone pushing me from behind. And then it happened. I dropped. Yes. I dropped. Into the tunnel. I let off a scream. Scratch that, a yell! I felt I had left my stomach back at the tier. The rest of my body was plummeting down the tunnel! Soon, the stomach caught up with the body. But then my body was being twisted by the force and drop of the tunnel. I almost overturned. I am still yelling. It is dark. I am also trying to make my stomach fit back into my body. I cry for my mother. I cry for my troop. And my cat.

I can’t go back. I am plummeting so fast. The water is gushing behind me. The smooth sides of the tunnel are swooshing me this way and that way. Then I have a bright idea. I need to conserve my energy. To fight. Yes. I need to be quiet. I have to yield to the water. I don’t have an option.

And so I relax. Then I start laughing hysterically. I mean. What on earth do I get myself into sometimes! But something happens. I start enjoying it. The adrenaline rush stops being painful. It becomes pleasurable . As I adapt to the new feeling, I suddenly see the light. Yes. Literally. That light at the end of the tunnel is one of the best feeling one can ever have in the midst of turmoil. When I saw the light I knew it was about to end. And the suddenly, I was vomited out with such force into the water at the bottom. And that was it.

I expected the world to stop. Clap actually. Like, did they actually see me do that! Sadly, it didn’t. I found myself back up the tunnel… to experience the emotions all over again.

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