Opinions: The little things: Reaching out for adventure

Leaving my zip code is essential to shaping who I am


Hannah Mellor

As I reach out my hand towards the salty, blue ocean on Hollywood Beach, Florida, I discover that there is a deeper meaning behind it. I live for adventure.

As the responsibility-free hours of spring break fade from (if we are lucky) our rested minds, I am reflecting on the importance of getting out: out of my head, out of my house, out of my zip code.

Getting up off the couch is a simple act that can be so hard to execute. Gravity wins all-too-often.

And I leave my zip code every day. Just going to school is a different zip code. But spring break is the opportunity to leave my zip code. Really leave. Just in the publications room, staff members visited London, Mexico, San Diego, San Francisco, Arizona, Texas, Denver and Branson.

I went to Jupiter, Florida with my family to see spring training.

I grew up with a travel agent as a mom. Traveling has always been a routine part of my life. But as I get older these adventure mean so much more than simply leaving the house or my neighborhood.

It’s more than just leaving my zip code.

Exploring different environments helps me discover who I am. I am someone who needs to step outside of myself. Every now and then I need an escape; I need adventure.

When heartbreak crushes me, all I want to do is grab my girls and go camping in our backyards. I want to stay up all night, cuddled in piles of blankets with my 12 best friends, laughing about how wimpy we are while telling scary stories to creep each other out.

Even those familiar locations whose trails I can walk without thinking repeatedly provide me something new with each returning visit. Maybe it’s the fresh air. Maybe it’s the act of unplugging from the chaos of daily life.

External peer pressures would have me drinking and smoking. But rather than getting blackout drunk or high with my friends, I choose to do something I will actually remember.

I want to make a huge Slip ’N Slide with my friends on a 90 degree day while the neighbors drive by and stare.

When a mean boy was disrespecting one of my best friends, instead of turning to alcohol or drugs to get rid of the pain, we put on our shoes, grabbed some toilet paper and tee-peed his house.

Driving around at 3 a.m. singing “When you see my face hope it gives you hell” at the top of our lungs, with dozens of toilet paper rolls in my lap is something my friends and I will never forget.

It wasn’t our smartest decision; but it was something real. In that one night, we made so many memories that will last a lifetime.

I don’t want to look back only remember the heartbreak of my boyfriend breaking up with me or one of my closest friends stabbing me in the back.

I want to remember waking up in the middle of night shivering in a 15 person tent with all my girls.

I want to remember looking like a complete fool as I run across the beach chasing a small baby crab who is somehow a lot faster than me.

These adventures are the moments I will never forget.

I said yes to adventure.