OPINION: Facing a fear with no feet on the ground

Throughout life, you’re bound to endure difficult scenarios. This could be something as simple as a stressful situation at work or the hardships that come with the death of a loved one.

While every difficult situation comes in different levels of severity, it all is mentally exhausting. And unfortunately, some difficult situations are completely self-made.

In the last month or so, there have been plenty of situations I’ve had to endure with work that have left me feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted, mostly just because of my anxiety. Some of these things, like asking federal-level politicians difficult or uncomfortable questions, are jobs I feel it is my duty to perform as a journalist, no matter how anxious or unhappy I feel about it. However, one stressful, difficult situation I was in this month was completely a personal challenge I felt I had to overcome.

Around this time a few years ago, I wrote a column talking about my grandma and the connection I have between her and hot air balloons. One of the last things she did before cancer took her life was experience a hot air balloon ride with my father. Because of this, we have little hot air balloons scattered throughout the house. I even have a tattoo of a hot air balloon on my back in memory of her.

Because of this connection, I knew that one day I’d have to take a ride myself. The only problem is, I’m a major scaredy cat in basically every way. I’m afraid of heights, I get motion sick and honestly often let my fear of the unknown and possible future scenarios get in the way of a lot of experiences in my life.

Every year when Balloon Days comes around, I know there’s a chance I’ll be going up in a hot air balloon. Since the CNA sponsors a pilot, we always have the chance to send a reporter up with the pilot to get some photos. This was my third Balloon Days and it hadn’t happened yet. However, when I pulled into the airport that Saturday afternoon, I knew my chances of going up were pretty high.

Despite my fear, I was prepared. I wore layers and tennis shoes, brought medication for motion sickness and anxiety and had various backup memory cards and batteries for my camera.

Most of my preparation ended up being unnecessary. The online suggestions to wear layers mostly pertained to morning flights, so I left my jacket in the chase van. My camera extras also stayed in the van, stowed in a pocket of the camera bag. I didn’t even use the motion sickness medication after insistence from the balloonists that it wouldn’t be needed.

That left only one item I had packed - my anxiety meds. Unlike everything else I ended up not needing, these magic little pills truly helped me enjoy a situation I was initially petrified of.

While we drove around, trying to find the best place to take off from, I was adjusting my camera, hoping to stop my hands from shaking. Once we parked and started to set up, it didn’t quite feel real. I’ve watched them set up for the night glow in years past and I didn’t end up in the sky, so I think I tricked my mind into thinking this time would be fine too.

After the balloon was mostly blown up and ready to go, I was pointed to the basket and told to climb in. Within seconds of me getting in, we were drifting up into the air. In the blink of an eye, I went from everything being normal to doing one of the things I’ve been most terrified of for my whole life. And once we had started, there was no getting off.

I feel like people are always taking about their life-changing or spiritual experiences when they get into the sky. I’d like to make you feel better if this wasn’t you. Don’t get me wrong, it was gorgeous up there and cool to see parts of Creston in a new angle and I’m very grateful for the experience. However, the most life-changing aspect of the ride was knowing I had faced a fear and came out alive on the other side.

The entire time I was in the air, I was clutching the basket for dear life. Every few minutes, I would slightly rotate my body, let go with one hand and take a few pictures (I mean, that was why I was there in the first place). However, aside from that, I didn’t rotate at all. Every time the pilot moved his feet, I could feel the movement of the basket, so I didn’t move my feet at all. In fact, I was so tense the entire time that my core and arms were insanely sore the next two days.

I was lucky and had a very easy landing. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like the relief of having your feet on the ground after something like that.

Though I’m very grateful for the experience and glad I did it, I’m not in any hurry to get into the sky again. I know that one day I’ll go back up with my dad and sister to honor my grandma, and while I’m glad I now know I’ll be able to do it when the time comes, I’m happy to leave my feet on the ground in the time being.