“Success is an accident. Showing up, even if it’s just for five minutes, makes us accident-prone.”

-- Paul Budnitz

I’ve done a lot of weird things.

I blame insatiable curiosity and monumental levels of FOMO, but I’ve also realized that trying new things begets trying new things. In other words, the more things I do, the more courage I have, and the more I want to do just to see what might happen.

Part of the reason I continually want to try new things is because I’ve seen when Past Dana has tried something new, it’s often opened doors for Present Dana that wouldn’t have existed otherwise.

I’ll admit, not every endeavor is prosperous. At least, not in a life-changing sort of way. But I’m convinced it’s still important to continue putting myself in unfamiliar territory because a) it’s exciting and b) you just never know what might come of it.

I practiced this philosophy several years ago in Fairfax, Virginia when I volunteered to participate in a community emergency response exercise. I saw an announcement calling for role players and signed up, by myself, because every friend I asked to join either told me I was crazy or met my invitation with brazen silence.

Whatever! I shall expand my horizons alone then, and you can all be jealous later when you see my photos, oh ye of little adventure, with all your pesky normalness and normal hobbies…

My main reason for signing up was I had briefly worked in the emergency management world in my career before and thought I might want to get back into that world. I thought doing this exercise would help me make connections and learn of opportunities. I was also putting off doing grad school homework and this sounded more fun.

The exercise was on a Sunday and required waking up early and getting paid only with catered food. It would involve getting dirty, acting out scenarios, and being made-up to appear injured.

Oh, and the entire event was to take place in an abandoned prison/former cold war bunker.

I know, right? Why would anyone not want to spend a weekend that way?

I arrived and joined a line of people awaiting their fate - i.e. what injury their “character” was going to have. We learned the day’s exercise scenario was an earthquake. I started making friends with other people in line as I neared the registration table. The man at the table asked, "How bad ya wanna be?" and he gestured to signs listing: Red (serious), Yellow (less serious but still bad) and Green (not super serious).

I heard something about "impalement" from someone else in line and I was intrigued. I told the registration man that I would do whatever they needed, assuming I’d soon be hanging over some fence appearing to have a rod poking through my body.

Registration man said he needed more Green category people and my dreams of gnarly wounds were dashed.

Actually, first he looked me up and down and said, "I'm not checking you out, just making sure you have on long pants and closed-toed shoes."

Uh huh.

Then he looked at my face, musing about my injury possibilities, and stated "Well, you're too pretty to give you a black eye..."

Am I getting a role or a date out of this?

And finally, he handed me a card and sent me to "moulage," the makeup/prop area. I glanced at the card and felt a twinge of hope:

"Impaled glass." Excellent. That sounded worth getting out of bed for.

I walked into the moulage area which was a humorous scene filled with people getting gruesome injuries while casually noshing on the breakfast spread laid out for us.

It was actually quite endearing to see so many people volunteering their time for the good of community preparedness. Some people came alone like me, others made it a family affair and brought their kids.

We all looked like extras from Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video, with our torn clothes and fake blood, but everyone was cheerful and began making small talk. I recall a lady calling out to me "I like your glass!" nodding toward the broken piece jutting out of my arm. I returned with, "I like your hand!" gesturing towards what looked to be missing fingers.

The organizers finally called us together and explained a bit more about the day. The scene was taking place throughout several buildings so it could be hours before we were each "found." My team was taken to our building, which was exactly as nice as you'd expect when you hear "abandoned prison," and we started picking out cells to remain in until our rescue.

And surprisingly enough, it feels weird to just be standing in a prison cell with nothing to do so I started making friends with the victims down the hall while we waited.

Once everyone settled into character, I heard fake cries for help begin.

"Help!"
"We're in here!"
"I'm trapped!"
"Hello?!"

This was all coming out of cells that I couldn’t see from inside my own cell, so it felt like we were dogs aimlessly barking in a kennel together. I occasionally offered my own barks of "Help...?" out the window in between stifling giggles at how ridiculous it all felt.

Finally, our responders arrived, and I patiently stayed in character while my nervous rescuer bandaged me up, his safety glasses falling off his face in the process. Seeing him clearly out of his element, I now understand why such practice exercises are important…

At last, my injuries were treated, and I was sent on my way to the team’s gathering spot outside. We waited for everyone to be found, then we all started walking back to our cars in our fake blood and torn clothes, returning to normal life like we hadn’t just spent the morning yelling in a prison.

And that’s how I launched a new career in emergency response.

Just kidding! Nothing actually came of it. No lasting connections, no major insights. I didn’t even pick up makeup tricks for appearing impaled, which I feel like might really come in handy in life.

I think the only value that came from doing that activity was experiencing a brief detour from my normal routine and a random moment in time with my fellow community members. And, of course, the hope that I helped build the skills and confidence of that one flustered responder-in-training.

So, do I regret doing it?

Absolutely not.

Yes, a part of me thought perhaps that activity might positively alter the course of my life and it didn’t. But I was open to doing it anyway, and I think that’s the lesson here.

I’m fully convinced we make ourselves “lucky” by showing up in as many places as possible. Even if it feels silly. Even if it yields nothing in the end.

Do it anyway.

More often than not, we’ll at least gain something – new friends, new perspective. Or at least a weird story to share later.

Plus, I think most of us secretly hope cool opportunities find us. I like to believe we can help opportunity out a bit by putting ourselves in as many random places as possible to increase the chances of being found. I mean, who knows? Maybe where we’re found just happens to be covered in fake blood in an abandoned prison cell. You just never know.

CAUTION: More photos below, realistic injuries included (and one scary prison cell toilet)