Recently my family and I went hiking with some friends through a slot canyon. I carried our one-year-old in a backpack. The hike was less than three miles and had a small elevation gain. This sounded like the perfect hike for our kids who are out of hiking shape.
A few days prior to our hike there had been a large rainstorm. This meant that the hike, rather than being a dry riverbed, had a small stream with running water. This made the hike beautiful and fun. As we hiked, the water became deeper, and it was progressively more difficult to cross the river without getting wet.
Soon there were pools of water several feet deep. We came upon a part of the hike that required us to do some rock climbing. Foot holds were carved out of the rock and there was a rope to hold on to so that hikers could pass this obstacle. If you slipped (and let go of the rope) you would plunge into the cold water below.
One by one, each family member took their turn rock climbing to reach the other side of the obstacle. Our friends were helping each child get across, it was clear it was safe and not overly complex. Still, I noticed within me anxiety starting to build. What if I slipped with my son in the backpack on my back? What if he shifts his weight in such a way that I lose my balance? As the number of potential scenarios were mounting, I began to feel increasingly anxious.
Finally, it was my turn to climb the rock. I grabbed the rope and put my right foot into the first foot hold and then my left in the next foot hold. As I began taking the steps my anxiety decreased. I was building confidence with each step – the potential scenarios that ran through my head were no longer relevant. I was making progress and I could feel my body feel more relaxed.
The potential dangers and worries about what might happen were far greater in anticipation of climbing the rock than when I was executing the simple rock-climbing maneuvers. How often do you let the anticipation of something that scares you prevent you from executing that thing? I know for me when the fear begins to build, I am immediately looking for alternative solutions.
What I learned that day hiking is I need to remember this pattern. Assess the situation and the data. I had all the evidence I needed to know the hiking obstacle was safe and the anxiety proved to be a false alarm. I will continue to feel false alarms – look for the data, assess the risk and charge ahead.
Next time you come up against something that feels risky – be aware of your feelings and the data. See if your pattern follows mine.
