So, this time the adventure was my idea. I saw an ad for IFly Bay Area, an indoor skydiving facility that fits people into jumpsuits, goggles, earplugs, and helmets, and sticks them inside a wind tunnel with an instructor, and allows them to float on the air and do whatever maneuvers they are capable of. The ad said that anyone from 3 to 93 could safely do it, and I certainly qualify in that regard. And I'd seen actors doing it on an episode of House, m.d., so it seemed doable.
Jan and I went to the facility in Union City last night, driving at least partway in pouring rain. I was early and waited reading mind candy on my Kindle to distract me from my growing anxiety. I had images of me landing on my nose, or simply falling to the springy floor of the tunnel. But the ad said they could handle people who weighed considerably more than I do, so what the hey, I told myself; it could be fun, and then it would be over.
We went to flight school for 15 minutes, where we learned and practiced the position for belly flying. The upper body is in a variant of the cobra pose and the legs in a sort of locust pose - in yogic terms. These are among my weakest positions, but at least I knew what I was trying for.
My jumpsuit was red and black, with a cool embroidered design on the front band. Wearing my glasses along with the goggles was a bit of a problem - my glasses got fogged up - but I would have been really uncomfortable trying something new without my glasses, being so near-sighted that I'm legally blind without them.
The actual flying sessions - we got two, each lasting about 90 seconds - were challenging and fun. I got into the Superman (Mighty Mouse?) pose, and did my best to hold my position with minimal help from the instructor. The very fast wind coming at my face made me feel a bit like being in a swimming pool with the water coming up my nose. I was a hair light-headed at the conclusion of each flight.
On the second round, the instructor joined up with me and spun us around while ascending and descending in the tunnel. When I banked a little to make the turn, my right shoulder complained a bit, so I spread my fingers apart to try to ease the strain.
We were so proud of ourselves, and other people there of our vintage - who came to watch their progeny fly - were quite complimentary.
The next day, however, some muscles have joined my shoulder's heightened complaint. Don't think I need to repeat the experience without some prior physical conditioning.
But we did it, we flew like little birdies!
Jan and I went to the facility in Union City last night, driving at least partway in pouring rain. I was early and waited reading mind candy on my Kindle to distract me from my growing anxiety. I had images of me landing on my nose, or simply falling to the springy floor of the tunnel. But the ad said they could handle people who weighed considerably more than I do, so what the hey, I told myself; it could be fun, and then it would be over.
We went to flight school for 15 minutes, where we learned and practiced the position for belly flying. The upper body is in a variant of the cobra pose and the legs in a sort of locust pose - in yogic terms. These are among my weakest positions, but at least I knew what I was trying for.
My jumpsuit was red and black, with a cool embroidered design on the front band. Wearing my glasses along with the goggles was a bit of a problem - my glasses got fogged up - but I would have been really uncomfortable trying something new without my glasses, being so near-sighted that I'm legally blind without them.
The actual flying sessions - we got two, each lasting about 90 seconds - were challenging and fun. I got into the Superman (Mighty Mouse?) pose, and did my best to hold my position with minimal help from the instructor. The very fast wind coming at my face made me feel a bit like being in a swimming pool with the water coming up my nose. I was a hair light-headed at the conclusion of each flight.
On the second round, the instructor joined up with me and spun us around while ascending and descending in the tunnel. When I banked a little to make the turn, my right shoulder complained a bit, so I spread my fingers apart to try to ease the strain.
We were so proud of ourselves, and other people there of our vintage - who came to watch their progeny fly - were quite complimentary.
The next day, however, some muscles have joined my shoulder's heightened complaint. Don't think I need to repeat the experience without some prior physical conditioning.
But we did it, we flew like little birdies!
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