Adrenaline and me
Random thoughts series
When: May 3rd, 2023 at 7:26 pm
Where: Montreal, Canada
In third grade, I climbed the school’s building because I wanted to experience what it feels to be meters up in the air. I paid a visit to the principal’s office and was told to not do it again. I didn’t.
In high school, I got detention for talking to my friends too much and being late to class. I paid another visit to the principal’s office. She was kind. She understood my urge to turn my head back to my classmates, so we can rant about homework or about a teacher…
Dancing at a club in Las Vegas with directors from banks and VCs is an experience I’ll never forget, but so was running up the stairs of Concordia library with Vi to raise awareness about product management.
Slowly, I realized I had something for adrenaline: heart pumping, chest squeezing and your mind just going blank — poof. It was the same feeling I felt when looking at steep ski slopes, when I listen to people talk about their passion projects, and right before presenting in front of large audiences. Intense admiration is how I’d describe my love for adrenaline.
My parents reassured me and said that my worship for this hormone started early, “you were not an easy kid. we couldn’t make you follow the rules. but that’s okay, it made you creative. ” My mom recounted the stories of how she made dumplings for my caretakers as a token of gratitude, as well as a request for forgiveness. I don’t think I made my parents’ life easy. Fast-forward to being 24, they got used to my stories, and told me to let them know I’m safe every so often. I am definitely more tamed now, or?
Last month, a thief stole my wallet while I was talking to my friend at a coffee shop. I froze. 7:17 pm, someone used my card to make a payment at Foot Locker. I start crying, but I was also pissed. I searched for the closest Foot Locker to me, 1.9 km away. Before heading to Foot Locker, I sprint to the flower shop I passed by before seeing my friend. Where did he get the wallet? at the coffee shop? at the flower shop? did I drop it on my way? my brain felt like a hamster on a wheel, racing. It wasn’t at the flower shop, I recall putting my wallet back in my bag.
I call my bank. I struggle to speak. It was that feeling of adrenaline. My mind went blank; my heart was racing; my chest was squeezing. I get to Foot Locker, “Foot Locker 99209, IS THIS THE STORE?”. They froze, “y…yes”. I started to speak at what it seemed 2.5x speed, begging them to tell me how the person looked like. The sales associate finally waved at me to go to the storage room to look at the security camera footage — the thief was an old man. He wore a blue basketball hat and had 2 Foot Locker shopping bags hanging in each hand (what the heck? why did he stay in the store for 15 minutes? what is he doing?).
“Which direction did he take?” I calmy asked. We sped up the footage. 7:35 pm, he left and headed towards Concordia.
I ran frantically, bypassing the crowd on a Friday night, “EXCUSE ME, EXCUSE ME, EXCUUSEE MEEE”. I couldn’t help but think, “why would he stay in the store for so long. an old man? seriously?”. As I crossed the intersection of Peel and Sainte-Catherine, I receive one more alert: 7:52 pm, an authorized payment made at Steve Madden. He was one street away from me.
That intense feeling creeped in. I burst into the store. He was at the cashier. I threw my bag and hung my claws onto him (dramatic i know). He screams, throws his bags, one after another, and continues to scream. He drags me to the front door. A stranger comes to help. My extension nails pierces his jacket. He finally throws his jacket and runs away. My right palm was bruised. The police came. They were impressed but advised me to not do it again. That night, I made a stop to the Foot Locker store and we celebrated, it felt like a victory. Younger Julie would definitely be proud.
There are definitely less dramatic times where I didn’t put my life in danger, for example, when I flew to San Francisco because I wanted to meet Andrew Ng. My friends and family showed their concerns, and tried to rationalize the fact that I was spending time and money for someone I won’t even meet. Too bad.
I walked around Stanford’s campus and only got so far as meeting his mentee. We crossed eyes. I walked him through the references I added in the children’s book, he chuckled.
My chase after adrenaline, although questionable at times, has brought a concrete answer to my seventh grade’s existential crisis “why are we here, ” and it is to live life to its fullest.
Final remarks
I’ve been teaching for a few years now, and being bold is a quality I want my students to have. Being bold to ask their professor for help, being bold to participate in their first case competition, and being bold to put themselves out there.
