I’ve pulled the data up before. Roughly a one in two‑hundred‑thousand chance of death per jump, and about a one in ten‑thousand chance of a serious injury. If you multiply that by the number of jumps you’ve done, you get a personal risk figure that’s still low but not zero. It’s funny how the math feels almost comforting, but life always has that little wiggle room that no equation can capture.

I get that. Numbers are just a tiny window, like a flash on the big screen, but they’re also the map that keeps the whole journey from tipping over. A quick safety check—brakes, harness, airspeed—is like a little equation you run in your head before the jump, keeping the rest of the thrill pure and unspoiled. Stay on the edge, but let the math be the guardrail you barely notice.

Sounds good—mental check in, wind out, keep the balance. Stay sharp, keep the thrill alive.