Step out onto the ledge. Stare down at your impending death. Every cell in your body feels suddenly sick.

My first jump was over a parking lot, at an outdoor concert. There were about 5000 people waiting to get in when a big crane-truck pulled up and started selling bungee jumps for $20 each. My friends thought I was nuts.

I paid, stepped onto a platform, and the crane lifted me to about 200 feet. The bungee cord itself was surprising. Nothing like a regular bungee cord – about eight inches thick and connected to a heavy, reassuring chest harness. Below, the pavement looked very hard.

They need quick jumps so they can lower the crane for the next person. Speed equals profit. They can’t afford to have customers chicken out, or waste a lot of time getting up their courage.

They have ways to prevent this. The guy gets out a bullhorn and starts yelling at the crowd below: “Okay, let’s count him down to his big jump! Everybody!” The crowd roared, and started counting down – Five! Four! Three….

If I chickened out, like every one of my cells wanted, there would be 5000 people laughing at me. That’s when I realized that sometimes, the fear of embarrassment is greater than the fear of death. I jumped.

This was my third jump, years later, off the Victoria Falls bridge between Zambia and Zimbabwe in March, 2008. Mine was the last jump of the day because a storm was coming in and lightening sometimes hits the bridge. It was 370 feet down. Crocodiles in the Zambezi river below. Unforgettable.