Last weekend, I drove more miles in a single day than I’ve driven in my whole life leading up to that point.
A friend had convinced me to come on a road trip to Niagara Falls, in upstate New York, and I was one of the designated drivers.
In a way, this road trip was a quintessential college road trip. We ate at 2 am in a 24-hour Denny’s, we talked about life on the long drive up, we pulled into rest stops looking for food and fuel.
The Falls were incredible! My friends and I took a boat tour that went just below the falls, and we strolled throughout Niagara Falls State Park.
Although my friend did all of the driving up to Niagara Falls, I was determined to cover at least part of the drive back.
“I can take the first shift of the drive back,” I told my friend over dinner on the last night.
“If you’re sure, then okay,” he said.
Was I sure? I just got my driver’s license last summer. The license wasn’t even three months old yet. Up until that moment, my driving experience amounted to twenty hours behind the wheel, two of which were on the freeway.
Interstates are long and unforgiving… was 2 hours enough to get to the other side?
Was I out of my mind? That’s what I asked myself as I went to bed, and as I got ready the next morning.
Fun fact: Niagara Falls is close enough to Canada to have a chain of Tim Hortons. That’s where I drove my friends for breakfast.
The parking lot of this random Tim Hortons… my comfort zone was here. It was time to get out: of Niagara Falls (literally), of my comfort zone (metaphorically). The little voice in my head that doubted my skills–it needed to go out, too. I’ve found that acquiring a new skill is equal parts learning and practice. I had done the initial learning, but practice was how I would get comfortable. “Use it or lose it,” is a saying for a reason.
So much learning happens inside Princeton’s classrooms, but why stop there? This was an opportunity for self-education! Getting comfortable with driving lay on the other side of driving back to campus.
It was in that parking lot that I decided I was sure. This was as safe an environment as any to practice, and this chance wouldn’t come again for a while.
Over the course of the next few hours, I would end up driving 145 miles. In those hours, I learned a lot about freeway etiquette: which lanes to speed up in, how to pass big rigs, the importance of matching other people’s speed.
As the miles passed, from one to ten to fifty, my apprehension gave way to focus. My comfort zone had expanded to encompass this difficult thing I was now doing.
The miles melted, and I kept driving, and the sun continued its arc across the sky. And there I was, pulling into gas stations and changing lanes. Smiling, because I was proud of myself for getting out.