I loved diving off the high dive.
It was around 1990. I was thirteen - a proud member of the Harper's Harpoons swim team. I'd climb to the top of that ladder in my requisite navy and red striped Arena swimsuit, pacing toward the edge of the board.
With each step, the board would bounce a little more, and I would cling to the railings a little tighter.
And then there I'd be, standing at the edge all by my lonesome, trying to summon the bravery of a thousand warriors before diving head first.
I'd look into the crystalline turquoise waters rippling below, arch forward with my hands pointed before me.