I love extreme. Bungee jumping, white-water rafting, volcano boarding, kite browsing – you name it. I love every severe activity under heaven. The Thrill! And the Adrenaline! Those crazy things scare the crap out of me, but I guess, I like being scared.

Extreme is what the doctor ordered for my humdrum life, and my doctor wasn't the deceased Dr. Kevorkian.

You may ask how I do those things.

I don’t. I’ve never said that I practiced extreme sports. I said, I loved them. I love when other people do it. Other people, who are more competitive than me, crazier than me and have poorer regulation of their dopamine system. I am pretty comfortable on my couch watching extreme sports on TV. I just watch these other people pushing their limits, and I feel adrenaline flooding my system. If they can do it – I can too. I am a human, just like them. I am just less dopamine-greedy and perfectly satisfied with the adrenaline feed from the TV screen.

We are the team – me and those extreme nuts. But we have different base positions. My base is my couch. My teammates are positioned on the other side of the TV screen. I consider myself a mentor, a cheerleader, a patron and a fan of the extreme sports. But most importantly, I am a theorist. I come up with extreme ideas, which my teammates implement.

Together we can extend the limits of what it is to be human!

For instance, we oppose gravity and evolution, dictating that we can’t fly. Oh, yes, we can. We just need some more practice.

We jump out of planes with parachutes. Thanks to an extreme thinker, who invented a plane. And another one, who invented a parachute. Now it’s my turn to take it a step further. Instead of sky diving with a parachute on your back, you should try to throw the parachute out of the plane first, and then dive after it. If you catch the chute – you win. If not – you get to fly for the rest of your life. Going even further, I would throw one parachute and have several people jump after it. One possibly wins; the others definitely get to fly. That is the thrill.

We sky-dive into the wind, we free-dive into the water. We can’t indefinitely swim under water yet, but we definitely can make a splash. Before I was assigned to my couch base, I’ve practiced my extreme splash at the pool. I was a child. I couldn’t daintily lower myself into the water feet first. I needed a splash big enough to make all the grownups go home on account of rain. And now an extreme thinker like me finally gave us a bone-breaker of our dreams. A giant human catapult that can launch you 26 feet into the air and hopefully, land you in the swimming pool (hopefully, filled with water.) The apparatus is called Air Kick. Landing site is not included. But swimming pool is recommended. Water is also recommended, if you want to make a splash. That is the thrill.

We are reaching new thrill heights. Skateboards are not extreme anymore. And so are motorbikes. So we invented a skateboard motorbike. Which is literary a hybrid of a skateboard and a motorcycle. The machine provides the thrill of driving a motorized vehicle that has no protection whatsoever and a blind spot of roughly 270 degrees (who is capable of looking around while trying to balance on that thing?)

I think combining underwhelming activities into a thrill hybrid is a very good idea.

Like Mountain Bike Bog Snorkeling – an extreme aquatic race where someone in full wetsuit and snorkel pedals an expensive mountain bike into a filthy bog.

Or Chess Boxing - the ultimate test of brains and brawn. Competitors play a round of chess and then box the living crap out of each other. Winning comes either from a checkmate or a knockout. The tension of moving figures across the checkerboard is relieved by the excitement of physical clash. Kicking, punching and grappling can indeed release a good serving of dopamine and adrenaline.

Fighting is exciting, but short of extreme. So we invented Shockfighting by adding high-voltage tasers sewn into fighting gloves. That is the real thrill.

Extreme sports are not necessarily associated with physical pain. We, the humans, have much more to overcome. That’s how we, the thinkers, came up with the idea of Wife Carrying. This is a real sport, a pants-wetting terror, where a gentleman heaves his wife onto his back and races through a special obstacle course, while she scolds him the whole way about each little mistake. Since this extreme activity can be too overwhelming, we offer an easy version for the beginners: the wife does not have to be your own.

We can do it! We can push ourselves beyond the limits. With my limitless ingenuity and my teammates need for extra dopamine, we can implement the craziest extreme activities, ‘for-nuts-only’. Sitting on my couch, I already have an idea of ski-para-avalanche-bombing. I can see it.

If I can see it, then you can do it.

If you can do it – I can too.