As I thought more about the planned route for this first cross-country, I became more and more anxious about it. There are two problems for me: (1) lots of new stuff and (2) a long flight that, because of the new stuff, may be a stressful filght.
The new stuff is the main thing. Planning a cross-country. Landing at new airports. Going to a towered airport for the first time. Going to unfamiliar countryside. Going near an active MOA. Major navigation. Cockpit management for multiple sectionals and airport diagrams. Potentially updating the ETAs/fuel estimates based on in-flight experiences. Et cetera. A lot of that really is just stepping up the level of things I'm already doing -- landing somewhere else should be pretty much the same, using a different VOR is the same as using HPW or HCM, avoiding an MOA is the same as avoiding FAF, etc. But the fact remains that it's 3 days from now and my stomach is in knots thinking about it!
As for the length of it, three hours doesn't seem that bad on the surface; when Husband and I flew to KUZA six or so weeks ago, it was over three hours and I flew almost the whole way. However, that trip was a direct route for a leisure trip and he did the takeoff and landing. For this trip, it's supposed to be more taxing to develop skills beyond just maintaining heading and altitude for 300 miles. Taxing plus long makes me a little uncomfortable for a learning experience; for a long solo cross-country it'll be fine, but I just wouldn't see it being an effective learning experience if it's overwhelming.
So I emailed Chuck about it and let him know how I'm feeling. I suggested that I could draw up a route that I'd be comfortable with that would include a towered airport and any other criteria we needed to hit. He approved of this plan, so my task is to design a route that hits a towered airport and has 3 legs of at least 50 nm.
Now for the really touchy-feely part. Last night as I lay awake at 3 am thinking about the cross-country, I decided that the plan wasn't the right one. I wasn't looking forward to it; in fact, I was dreading it.
But you know what? I'm capable and confident enough now to know that I can change my training. The problem isn't me, or Chuck, or the process, or flying in general. The challenge is just the pace (which I guess is a combination of all of the things that were just acquitted!). The syllabus can't be a one-size-fits-all syllabus. This time, I heeded my apprehension and changed the pace.
On the other side of that coin, however, is that persistent self-doubt. What if I'm just wussing out? I mean, I'm not eliminating the challenge, but what if it's being attenuated too much? Am I doing myself a disservice by not trying to overcome it? If I'm not pushing hard enough, will I be getting enough out of it?
I've made the decision, and I believe it to be the right decision, but there's still a little pompous character in my mind shaking her head in disappointment and tisking at me, saying that I could handle the original plan and that I'm taking the easy way out. She's wearing really ugly red-rimmed glasses. Ah, I digress.
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