I’ve fallen in love with climbing. It’s been a slow falling – the kind where it happens slowly then all at once, which is fairly ironic considering I still struggle with my fear of falling!

I love the freedom that can come from it. When you are in flow, you just enjoy the movements on the wall. You’re focused on how the holds or rock feel underneath your hands. You search for certainty and get a sudden rush of joy when you find the right position to get yourself over onto the next move. When you climb outdoors, you’re humbled when you get high enough to realise just how small you are. I love being reminded how big the world really is. It brings that same emotion I felt when I watched an iMAX film of astronauts in the ISS at London’s History of Science Museum. They commented on just how big and small the Earth looked, the infinite nature of the stars in the darkness, and the awe of being suspended in space. I was moved to tears and climbing can do that to me, too.

I found the same freedom in skydiving. Your fear mounts as the plane reaches altitude. The door roars as it opens at 15,000 feet. I recall trembling as I made my way across to face it. For the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t just “anxious” or “worried”- I was afraid. My palms were sweaty, I felt nauseous, and I wanted to bottle it so badly. I decided to make the leap anyway. Once out of the door, though, things were otherworldly. You could see the curvature of the Earth. The wind roars past you and although you know you’re hurtling towards the ground at 120 mph, you’re flying. As you get more comfortable in freefall with more jumps, you learn to appreciate the subtleties in how the wind keeps you “afloat.” There’s fear in appreciating, once again, just how small you are, but there is both hubris and humility that comes with it, too, especially when you get to backflip thousands of feet in the air!

Climbing is about physics. There is big talk of AI and how it can simulate what is typically considered within the realm of human intelligence. Well, the hardest things to simulate are what we take for granted – our ability to cross a sidewalk, pick up a cup of tea, or get the physics just right to pull yourself up a wall. You drop your knee to create a camming effect, pulling yourself closer into the wall, making what felt like an unstable position super stable. We intuitively figured this out. Our brains evolved to understand the rules of our physical world. I don’t doubt we will simulate this going forward, but we must appreciate just how incredible that is- and climbing requires that intuition immensely. It’s a mix of learning the theory and applying it to the real world, seeing the effects immediately (and I will always have an appreciation of instant gratification).

Skydiving is also about physics. As you jump out of a plane, you go into its slip stream. You better arch well to catch that slip stream- otherwise it’ll be an interestingly unstable tumble that a beginner can struggle to get out of. When tunnel skydiving, it’s best to avoid the cone shaped space of “dead air” that can occur when flying over a partner who is also on their belly. Your parachute works using Bernoulli’s principle. Understanding the theory behind all of this is a joy in itself and applying it in real time to keep myself safe makes me savour it all the more.

Climbing presents me with challenge. Every rock type is different. Each indoor climb requires a slightly different skill set. You could go onto a slab requiring you to trust your feet. Vertical technical climbing pushes you to get close to the wall, balance on small holds, and pull yourself up on crimps. Overhangs may be ladder-like, but you’re hauling yourself up a 45 degree angle at times, pushing your muscles to their max. It keeps you on your toes.

Skydiving is creative in itself. Yes, the core skills that keep you safe are fairly consistent – jump out of the plane, get into a stable position, pull your chute at the right altitude, and land safely. However, I find joy in learning freefly – getting into positions that are much less intuitive than belly-flying. Knee flying keeps you almost on a knife’s edge with very little to keep you balanced apart from tiny movements in your hands, elbows, and shins. You can sitfly, carving in the sky or tunnel whilst lounging on a throne of air. I love this aspect of it – the challenge of learning these new positions, feeling the fear, and doing it anyway.

And that comes to the crux of it. Climbing and skydiving are scary. They are inherently risky sports that can be done safely, but only with an appreciation for what you are doing and ensuring you mitigate those risks. I am a risk taker, but I will not take one unless I have done what I can to mitigate the harms and maximise the rewards. It explains why I am a sport climber rather than a trad climber who pushes their grades, for example. It’s why I practiced all my skydiving positions, safety procedures, and PLF repeatedly before every jump I went on. I take this stuff seriously. Although they give me joy, I don’t want to let them take the joy I have in my life outside of them away.

These hobbies are an expression of my personhood – someone who loves her freedom, autonomy, and challenge. I am learning, however, how important it is to also tap into my softer forms of creativity. I want to get into playing the guitar again and this blog is an attempt to understand myself and the world around me. I find that really hard to do consistently. Perhaps that’s what I really fear in the end. Maybe that’s the next thing to love, accept, and more gently move past.