It was November 2, 2016, and my friends and I were being active outside; playing wiffle ball and riding my longboard. We were playing outside because it was a beautiful day and we were going to have a party for the 2016 World Series final game. The drapes of the night were coming as the sun squinted its final light on the concrete street. The street has three hills, but the only one important to this story is the hill that is medium sized and has a slight curve. I had brought out my longboard; at first my only plan was to ride down the hill while sitting on my longboard.
   

I told my friends my idea and they wanted to record the stunt I had in mind. So I picked up the board and walked up the hill. I placed it atop the apex of the hill, sat on it, and rode down. But before riding down the hill I yelled to an invisible audience, “To stupidity and beyond!” I rushed down, air resistance pulling on my short hair and friction trying to slow down the board. As I stopped at the bottom, yelling with excitement, my friends ended the recording, and I said I wanted to ride again. So I rode again and again; then I had the stupendous or just plain stupid idea of balancing small hockey goals on the tip of my longboard. One of my friends offered his goals because we were using them for street hockey. And so I trudged up the hill with board in one hand and one goal in the other. I placed the longboard on the crest of the hill with the mini goal on the front of the board.
   

I yelled to my friends, “Is it okay to go?”

They responded, “Yes”. Then I zoomed down the hill with one hand holding on to the goal and one on the board, once again yelling, “To stupidity and beyond!” As I came to a stop, I swerved but did not topple over. So with more confidence we experimented with different ways to carry the goals without crashing. The second experiment I did a was with one goal in the back. That second experiment was a success. Then I did the third experiment: one goal in the front and one in the back. It started out fine, but then as I got to the bottom of the hill, I swerved and fell forward. I scraped my knee on the pavement. Although I had other minor cuts and bruises, my knee was expressing searing pain and trickling blood.
    

So after the failure and pain we decided to stop. We retired inside to get ready for the party, and I got a bandage for my knee. For the rest of the night my knee hurt, so after that experience I learned to “try to compromise before you do something less than safe.”