Terror at Stone Mountain

My breath catches in my throat. I'm not sure I can do this. Why did I sign up for this in the first place? I want to go back down. Down. I look down and immediately wish I hadn't. Even though I'm only a couple dozen feet up in the air, I might as well be on top of Mount Everest.                                                       "Don't look down!" my friends tell me. But of course, it's too late. Realizing that the only way down is forward, I lift up my eyes and look in front of me. Thin, unsteady wooden boards and rope with a little bit of slack in it are all that connects me to the next platform.
All of a sudden, the steady drizzle turns into a practical downpour. Now on top of all that, the boards will be slippery and I will have a hard time getting a good grip. 
I take a deep breath. The only thing separating me from sure and certain death is this harness I have attached to a rope, and I'm not positive that it even works.
My friends continue to encourage me. "You can do it! We believe in you!" they say. Finally, with one last burst of determination, I step out from the platform. Miraculously, I make it to the other side in one piece and finish the course strong. When I finally reach the bottom and look back on the past grueling minutes of my existence, I am glad that I challenged myself.