Note: This blog post was published on June 30, 2024. This is my first re-post, and I chose this one for a couple of reasons. First, as I look back on the past year of Legally Fit, the experience I wrote about here stands out more than any other. Not just because it involved skydiving, but because of how grateful I was to celebrate turning 50 in a way that my body could not have celebrated many birthdays before. I also chose this one because it timely speaks to what’s ahead for me this weekend. I will be heading to Moab, Utah where, let’s just say, I will be taking my own advice from this post. Keep an eye on my Instagram for updates throughout the holiday weekend.
A favorite song of mine known as, The Sunscreen Song, is a musical version of a graduation speech that’s full of wisdom on how to live life. The main piece of advice, “wear sunscreen” is the only one that the speaker claims has been proven by science, but the remaining lessons based on the speaker’s own meandering experience are the ones that truly speak to living better. Some include:
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“Don’t waste your time with jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead; sometimes you’re behind. The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.”
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“Don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.”
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“Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or what other people think. It’s the greatest instrument you will ever own.”
But there’s one line in the song that always stood out to me more than any other: “Do one thing every day that scares you.” As soon as I heard it, I made this one of my mantras.
Overcoming Fear . . .
The meaning of this line is not about doing stupid or even extreme things. The lesson I take from it is to get out of my comfort zone. As I look back on my journey, one of the biggest keys to its success thus far is overcoming fear. Fear of trying, fear of failing, and even fear of succeeding. We can all face these fears in every aspect of life whether work, fitness, social, mental, or personal.
This past week, I went skydiving to celebrate my 50th birthday. For some, this is pure stupid. For me, it was a necessary accomplishment to mark the changes I’ve made over the past decade and to prove that I am who I think I am. More on that in a minute . . .
I jumped out of a plane once before in my life when I was in my early 20’s and had just graduated college. I mostly remember certain parts of the experience, particularly what I thought were the scariest parts – the initial jump out of the plane and the latter part of the free fall wondering when the parachute will come out. The rest of the memories have mostly faded with time. I know I loved it, or at the very least, I remember that’s what I said. I thought it would be cool to do this every decade of my life afterwards, but I had no idea what lay ahead.
A long time has gone by since then – more than half my life. I’ve gotten older, and in some ways, wiser, but wisdom is not guaranteed. Over the past 30 years, I’ve made my share of mistakes. Learning from those mistakes is not automatic. I developed bad habits and fears that led me down a path that was unhealthy both physically and mentally. Each step I took in that direction made me less willing to believe I could change and more afraid to try. I didn’t believe that I could control it, so I got comfortable with it.
As my 30’s came about, skydiving was not an option to celebrate my birthday. I may have been over the weight limit for a jump, and I just had back surgery to repair a herniated disc that probably happened because of a weak core.
By the time I reached 40, I was way over the weight limit to skydive. The thought had not even crossed my mind anymore. But, as you all know if you have been reading this blog, my mind and body have changed greatly over the past 10 years.
About five or six years ago, I was having a conversation about skydiving with a friend, and I commented that I would not do it again. In my head, I cursed at myself for thinking that. It didn’t bother me that I wasn’t the same person as the 22-year-old who never gave a second thought to jumping, but it ate at me that I dismissed the idea as something I could not bring myself to do. I had become afraid of heights – something I noticed when going for a run that required crossing a drawbridge and simply panicking as I started to try to cross it. Paralyzed with fear, I turned around and walked back rather than cross the bridge. At the time, I wondered, “who is this guy?”
Part of my fear was rational. My body was less stable, and I felt less control over my movement. I was more prone to falling from the most basic movements at the time.
Another part of the fear was irrational. First, the consequences of my instability and clumsiness were not what I imagined they could be on that bridge. If I fell, I was still on the ground. I was never going to throw myself over the edge. There was a railing to hold onto. I could simply have walked one step at a time (away from the edge) just like I do every day when going from A to B on solid ground. The irrational fear was what I needed to work on.
For a while, I ran to that bridge again over and over, still turning back each time, until one day when I decided to walk it (as far away from the edge as possible). I slowly walked across one step at a time with my anxiety rising throughout, but I realized at the end that there was no reason to be afraid. It was the irrational fear alone that had prevented me from doing this. When I crossed back again, it was easier. Today, I run the bridge without slowing down, and the only reason I think about it at all is to reflect on where I was at the time that I was overwhelmed with fear and could not take another step.
Crossing that bridge both literally and figuratively made me realize a few things about fear. First, it can be overcome. Second, once you do overcome a fear, the next one becomes easier to defeat. And finally, I was better off for it. Now, read those last three sentences again and understand that this is not just about physical exercise, nor is it about jumping out of a plane. It is about fear that comes in every part of life. When fear is irrational, it holds you back.
Why I needed to skydive . . .
I began to think about skydiving again. I wanted to be someone who would jump out of a plane. I began to talk about doing it and asking others if they were interested, yet I wasn’t even sure if I was there yet. For skydiving, there is a big difference between talking about it and doing it. Then came my trip to Alaska last summer where I took on another new and scary challenge – rock climbing. That was my first time on the rock, and I was as terrified as I had been in a long time. I didn’t understand how it worked, and it was difficult to blindly trust that a rope belayed by a petite instructor would save my life. I had lost about 90 lbs. by that point, but I still saw myself as much heavier, and I even asked if the rope could hold someone my size. My instructor responded that it has held people much heavier than I was, and that made me realize that I probably didn’t perceive myself as being quite where I was. Coincidentally, another line from The Sunscreen Song is, “you are not as fat as you imagine.”
After climbing in Alaska, I wanted to do it more. I wanted to understand everything about climbing and get better at it. I started going regularly to indoor climbing gyms to learn the technique and build confidence. I progressed into tailoring many of my workouts towards climbing by working on pullups, lat strength, and balance. I had never even been able to do a single pullup in my life, and when I started to try them while training for climbing, I still couldn’t do it. I worked hard at building the muscles, and I’ve lost another 55 lbs. since then. Now I can do pullups with my fingers!
This past spring, I started going to The Gunks, a fantastic climbing spot about 90 minutes north of Manhattan, and I got an amazing guide – Patty Lankhorst – from Eastern Mountain Sports. She taught me everything, and when I got back on the rock, I felt calm. I was singularly focused on each move up the rock, and it wasn’t until I reached the top of a pitch that I understood just how high I was. I had no fear. I found peace where I would have panicked before. I now go climbing regularly (as recently as this past Friday), as my happiest place is up there on the rock – somewhere I never would have been before I started living out of my comfort zone.
