top of page
  • Laura Stringer

Learning to fly

I'd like to talk about personal growth for a minute.

My family and I just got back from a much-needed vacation to the Outer Banks. It was a great week with a lot of highlights, and some firsts. My favorite first? Hang gliding. Not because of how fun it was (although, WOW), but because of the huge growth it took to get there.

Let me back up. A long time ago, during another trip to the Outer Banks, I learned that you could go hang gliding there. They teach you on a dune of soft sand, not too high, perfect for beginners. And I was so excited to do it. I wanted to try hang gliding!

Until I learned that you needed to be able to run about ten yards, on loose sand, with a heavy set of gear. Which I couldn’t do. It was a real bummer.

I won’t bore you with the details, but just know that being a lifelong desk worker, artist, and computer nerd caught up with me young, and by 30 I was on a first name basis with my chiropractor. The pain was chronic and often debilitating. What was even worse was that I missed out on opportunities because I literally could not do anything that required even a little bit of physical fitness.

A short course of physical therapy made me realize how badly out of shape I was, and how just a little strengthening could make a big difference. I got hooked, and haven’t stopped doing the work since.

I’m no athlete, and my progress has been slow enough that I don’t always realize how much I’ve grown, how strong I’ve gotten.

Mostly the payoff is no more crippling migraines, which is worth it alone, and being able to do cartwheels like a kid again.

But last week, the payoff was that I got to fly.

(That’s Coop running next to me, my very enthusiastic and kind instructor)


bottom of page