I haven’t read all of the comments, so forgive me if someone else already mentioned this tip. I read once that when you panic, it’s your body’s defense against death so you may not really be thinking of death, per se, but if you replace the panic (I beleive fear, or at least some of it is good) with a scene in your head of what you will drink, eat, or other pleasantry after you finish climbing then your body’s fight/flight system will cool down and you will go back to climbing well.

Three deep breaths is a similar, but very simple, techniques, but I also wanted to add that I often find that fear (and sometimese even panic) charges me up for the difficulties ahead. When I remember that, I can allow it to wash over me, and subside, then carry on with even more energy and motivation!

I believe it’s good to have a partner that shares similar fear of falling. This way the climbers can “compete” against each other and falling will be a part of the game. Before they know it, they are both better in climbing and the fear of falling is long gone.

One thing that I have become fascinated with is fear. I came to challenge my own fears when I began racing motorcycles a few years ago. In that sport, decisions are made in 10ths and 100ths of a second. However, over time, those decisions became instinctual through repetitious training. It’s an amazing feeling of when you cheat death and never thought about what to do, rather just did it. That was 2 years ago with a near miss with a car head on. It was a long process of mental recovery, but it was good to get back to basics and reprogram myself.

I had to repeat this process when I took up climbing. My first lead climb was a sport lead that I did, like 5.6 slab, on my second climb ever! I was never thinking about the consequences, rather just wanting to do it! Then over time, I read and heard about the consequences and the fear began to build.

I’ve been sketched out on leads and in retrospect, I realize that it wasn’t a hard climb, it was my mental strategies that weren’t solid. I realized that I was too focused on being runout, than being focused on my technique. My stretched out shoes at the time didn’t help either. Since I got my new shoes, I’m climbing way better and I feel way more confident.

The first time I did an offwidth, a 5.6, I led it! I almost backed down until I figured out the technique. The second part was a 5.7 finger and fist crack. I was standing on a ledge with 6 feet to go. I was so exhausted from that OW that I was really scared of taking a whipper as I had no gear left for the size I needed. I focused on breathing. It took me like 10 mins to realize that the proceeding 6 feet was like a 5.5 flake. Then I was like, “DOH!” and just walked right up it practically.

When I we did the Royal Arches, I was relying on the fact that we’d have an extra ropegun that could take over if I was feeling tired or sketched out. Well, he forgot his harness and shoes at home! So he made a harness out of webbing and wore my trail running shoes and made it through the climb! So that meant I had to lead the whole thing! I had already felt anxiety in the days leading up to it and that was evident with a nightmare I had the night before the trip.

I was doing okay the first 5 pitches and was beginning to feel drained. I wanted to give up, but I realized that had to finish the climb, since retreat would be a big PITA with only 1 rope. So after a pitch or so I got into this sort of speed rush as I was more concerned about the incoming weather than anything else. Over the remainder of the climb, I was getting faster and faster with less and less pro. I was constantly focused on my technique and not on being run out. There were a few times where I thought, “oh s@#$, I’m runout!” (like 60 feet!). But I looked for the next placement and made that my goal. With each “goal,” I felt more and more accomplished, with that I felt more and more confident. This built up to the psychological crux of the climb, a 50′ or so slab traverse with one bolt at the start. There was no way around it. “Fawk it!” I focused on technique and I felt very little fear, if any. I made the traverse to a slick area, then down climbed to a ledge. Finally, it was over!

That was the most victorious I have felt on leading a climb. I know where my mental limits are and have yet to find my physical limits.

I won’t talk about whippers as I don’t want to jinx myself. (knock on wood)

“Why are you afraid? You shouldn’t be, you’ve done this before! You’re safe, stop being scared.”

“You’re so silly for being scared, and your climbing is suffering. You should be able to do this!”

And boy does it mess me up. That kind of self-talk is so defeating, and I’m guilty of it almost every time I climb. The hardest part is accepting the fear and finding a way to deal with it on my own terms – that it’s okay to want the same belayer all the time, it’s okay to take it one step at a time.

I’m going to try the start-with-a-tiny-fall concept next time! It’s funny, being on lead terrifies me, but bouldering doesn’t scare me at all.