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…which is really just to say that I’ve recently been attempting to confront a crippling fear of heights that I’ve had ever since I was a kid.

When we were in New York in July, I began confronting this fear by walking across the Brooklyn Bridge with my good friend Ciappa.

The Brooklyn Bridge! With me!

I’m not big on bridges—driving across them or otherwise—and the old me never would’ve walked across one. Still, while intimidating at first, the Brooklyn Bridge proved to be an easy first step. The walkway is both above traffic and right down the middle of the bridge, which meant I wouldn’t have to be pressed up against a railing while cars and trucks whizzed past me at 90 miles per hour.

Not that I can blame them. When driving across a bridge, I also haul ass from one side to the other. Of course, I don’t do it to get to my destination quicker, but rather to get the hell off the bridge as fast as humanly possible.

This happens most often on our trips to San Francisco. I’ve driven across both the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay Bridge many times before, and each and every time my heart is racing, my palms are sweating, and my foot is pressing the gas pedal through the floorboards.

And so, obviously, even though we go to San Francisco often, I’ve never had a desire to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I’ve had the desire, I’ve just never had the balls. KB actually ran across the bridge during an early morning half-marathon last year; I slept in and then met her at the finish line hours later. I won that race, if you ask me. In more ways than one.

Still, as I stated above, lately I’ve been trying to step outside of my comfort zone. And so, when we met up with our good friends Bill and Sarah in San Francisco a few weeks ago, and KB and Sarah mentioned walking across the bridge, I decided, “Fuck it. I’ll join them… at least until I can’t anymore.”

Shaking, terrified, and full of brewing barf, I made it to the first (south) tower!

The Golden Gate Bridge!

Here’s an upward shot that I took without stopping or looking at my phone!

Shot by me!

I did stop midspan, however, to take this shot of me with KB and Sarah… if only to prove that I actually fucking did it.

From the center of the bridge!

Here’s another shot of the same spot looking north!

No shit!

And one last shot of San Francisco between the railing and the cable!

I know, I couldn't believe it either!

I nailed that shit! Made it all the way across and back again (though I seriously asked KB and Sarah to walk back over, get the car, and come pick me up).

Next up on my bucket list of scary shit to overcome: flying alone.

Me! Flying alone! In a plane! High in the air!

Oh, shit! I did that, too!

Last week, our flights to Disney World were thrown a curveball when KB had to stick around an extra day for work. Rather than changing my flight and postponing my trip by a day as well (or chickening out and getting off the plane before it pulled back from the gate… seriously, that really happened once), I sucked it up and flew alone.

You have no idea how huge this is… except now, because I just told you so.

In the words of Martin Brundle (from the shittier-than-the-original The Fly II): “I’m getting… better.” Slowly.

One height at a time,


Old Poop!