What if I fall?

In every climber’s mind, there’s always a nagging thought when they’re on the move.

“What if I fall?”

Maybe it’s not fair for me to say this, for to say that I know what goes on in every climber’s mind is like saying I own Everest. But for me at least, “What if I fall” always clings to the back of my mind. It makes my palms perspire, my heartrate go up – but I’d go so much to say that it also keep me cautious, reminds me to check and double-check every foothold I intend to step on, every anchor point I clip in to, especially when I’m lead climbing.

But falling isn’t my forte. Sure, I’ll get up and climb again if I’m not dead, but I really hate the feeling of falling. It’s a helpless sensation. The free-fallers can call it ‘liberating’ or ‘weightless’ but for me, it’s scary as hell. After doing the jump-off-a-perfectly-good-plane-and-pretend-to-enjoy-it thing in New Zealand, I’m pretty sure the way to go for me is up.

And as luck would have it, I was on the ice wall for our technical training session today, and I fell. Got plucked right off the simulated ice wall at Yishun SAFRA about 15m into the climb. Naturally, I got knocked down like a ton – what with ice axes and crampons on me.

You know what they say about your life flashing before you when you’re about to die? Buncha bollocks. When you’re falling, there is no time for such thing. Adrenaline kicks in and fear fills your mind, mixed with panic, until the belay ropes stretches tight and catches you – if there is one.

It wasn’t my first time falling, whether during training and in the mountains. But it reminded me again of the fatal consequences me should I slip on the real thing. Mountaineering is a deadly sport. I’ve chosen it knowing the dangers that lie waiting for me. Which is why I’m going to get on that rope and face my next climb – even if fear is sniggering in my face.