Standing on the very edge of the rusty metal bridge, I dared myself to catch a glimpse of the view hiding beneath me. Despite the rapid pace of my heart beat and the trembling in my hands, my gaze followed the eighty metre drop below to see the sun shimmering and sparkling off the turquoise waters that flowed through the Corinth canal.
I gasped as I felt myself sway towards the edge and a hand grabbed my arm to steady me; his touch leaving me instantly at ease. I had only known the man standing next to me for an hour, but I'd already recognised that we had the same flicker of excitement in our eyes.
‘Are you ready to jump?’ he asked raising his eyebrows.
I smiled in return, a response which seemed good enough for him and he began the countdown.
‘3..'
Crowds above us on the next bridge began to join in, chorusing the countdown.
'2..’
Suddenly the canal seemed to become narrower, the walls to the side of me felt like they were caving in and the twisting, turning pains in my chest caused my breathing to speed up.
Could I do it? Could I jump?
I was nineteen years old when I moved to Greece and did an eighty metre bungy jump down Corinth Canal. I was a teenager who lived for excitement and change, I wanted to experience everything and chased every risk possible. If I knew something was safe, the chances are I wasn't interested.
Nothing seemed to bother me back then. It never worried me when my friend had a massive hissy fit on the edge of the bungy bridge and bottled out from doing her jump minutes before mine, and I didn't hesitate when I began to feel anxious seconds before the jump - for that was half of the excitement.
There were points when I feel I probably should have panicked but didn't. When I jumped and the cord bounced, the velcro straps holding my feet together began to tear apart. I'm pretty sure I should have panicked then.
Or at the end of my bungy whilst I was dangling there like an over sized carrot waiting for the guys to reel me back up and all I could see was a cruise ship heading down the narrow canal straight towards me, I definitely should have panicked then.
But I didn't panic because it was exciting. Taking risks was exciting.
I don't quite know what happened to that brave, courageous, nineteen year old risk taker. But it's fair to say she didn't stick around.
Over time, the passion I had for risks and the desire I had for change rather quickly disappeared. Now, I like the security in my life and the comfort of knowing that there won't be any disruptions in my day to day life.
So as a self confessed control freak, I openly admit that risks and changes aren't quite my passion like they once were. Which is why I'm trying to restore a position of calm regarding two big changes that are going to impact my life...........
Oh... and did I mention, these changes are both happening this week?
Love
Liz x