Becoming a chicken...

I am not the most spontaneous, risk-taking person you'll ever meet, but I've never been much of a "'fraidy cat" when it comes to roller coasters. I'll get on (almost) anything.

Well..... Not so much anymore apparently.

I still have the hook-ups on free tickets at Magic Mountain, so my friend Jen and I decided to go this last Saturday. I hadn't been since I stopped working there 5 years ago. I hadn't been on the big rides in I don't know how long. I didn't think that my long absence from "Extreme" roller coasters would phase me, but I was wrong. So very wrong...

The first ride we went on was Tatsu. It's a newer ride that I had not been on. It's a flying roller coaster, which means that you get strapped in and then they flip you forward so that your tummy is facing the floor and you are in the flying position. Kinda cool. Yeah. Until you hit the pretzel loop (which involves "extreme postive G forces") that drops your stomach to your feet, feels like it's never going to end, and makes you think you might really die for a second there (I swear, I was this close to actually crying).

OMG.

I can't hang anymore.

I literally got off that ride feeling relieved to be alive and resolved to never do that again.

I used to make fun of my dad because when we were little he used to get on everything and he forced us to get on everything, but then a few years ago we got on the Tower of Terror at Disney's California Adventure and for the first time in my life I saw fear in my father's eyes. I thought it was hilarious. It's not.

I now know that with age comes fear. When you are young you have nothing to lose. Adrenaline is fun. Not anymore.

I'm officially old.