“Do one thing every day that scares you”
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:
“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.”
“Don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.”
“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.
Climbing at The Gunks last Friday as part of my 50th Birthday vacation week.
Ready to Jump . . .
With my 50th birthday approaching, I felt ready to jump now. But the only way to know for sure was to do it, so I planned it around my birthday – this past week. On Saturday, I went to Skydive Sussex in New Jersey, and amazingly, I met two others who were celebrating 50th birthdays. Tara (July 27) was brought there by her two daughters and niece, and I learned that she and I share similar stories of a weight loss journey. Darrius (July 25) – whose late brother, Amir, shared the same birthday as mine (July 23) — was brought there by his friends, and I let him know that I would represent July 23 up there in his brother’s memory.
The 50th birthday club. Tara (left) was celebrating 50 that day. Darrius (right) celebrated 50 two days earlier. Mine was four days earlier, the same birthday as Darrius’s late brother, Amir.
Now it was time to jump. Going into it, I was focused on the instructions. How to approach the door, what position my knees and feet needed to be in, and when to arch back. When we reached 14,000 feet and it was time to jump from above the clouds, I didn’t need any push. I was ready to fly. And immediately upon exit, amidst the intensity of the fall, the wind, and the feeling of not being grounded to anything, I did have a moment of, “what the f$%k did I just do?!?!” I let that go quickly and tried to look around as much as possible to take in the views, as the clock was running on the free fall. The mid-air tricks of spinning and grabbing the videographer were a bit surprising (even though the videographer mentioned the possibility of grabbing his leg before the jump, and I told my instructor that I was up for anything). A friend recently pointed out to me that I am an adrenaline junkie, which I had not realized but don’t deny, but the dose of adrenaline that I got from the free fall was more than enough to fill my tank! I wasn’t exactly sure when the parachute would come out, but the free fall lasted longer than I had remembered from the first time (I think it was longer). Once it came out and the instructor said I did great, I felt a sense of relief and calm. The rest of the glide down was beautiful. It took me forever to spot where we were going, and I only figured it out about 10-15 seconds before we landed. The slide onto the ground was smooth and probably easier than sliding into second base — especially since the ground never felt so good!
My jump!
My first two thoughts when the jump was over were that it was scarier than I had thought it would be – particularly with the acrobatics we did – and that life is great!
Of course, I also tracked the data on my WHOOP, and it was quite interesting. You can see my heart rate spike exactly when the free fall began. My stress levels remained lower than expected throughout, just barely reaching high stress for only a brief moment. In fact, my stress levels were even higher when I later spent an hour later between the sauna and ice bath.
My WHOOP data from skydiving.
Oh, the places you can go . . .
Doing things that scare me has taught me that letting go of irrational fear brings me places I never would have experienced before. Experiences that are the best of what I can achieve and would have missed out on if I had not gotten comfortable being uncomfortable. I now use this mindset every day in some fashion whether it be big stuff like taking on more adventures or small things like working on projects outside of my expertise at work. Fear is an obstacle for both the body and the mind.
Where would I be today without doing the things that scare me? I’d have lived less than half the life that I have lived. At work, I’d never be going to trials. In fitness, I never would have met my personal trainer who inspired this journey. In health, I never would have gone to some of the doctors I needed to see to address health issues that were creeping up and scaring me. And in life, I never would have started this blog to share my story and all my vulnerabilities with the world. In short, fear would have kept me from doing things that are good for me, not things that are bad. I can’t say that I am fearless today, and I still may miss out on experiences in the future because of it. But I will approach it by doing my best to separate the rational fear from the irrational.
What’s next?
So, what’s next? I’m probably done skydiving until my next decade – unless I just happen to end up at a skydiving airport with a bunch of friends who are jumping. Then, I’m not just watching. But for now, there’s so much more I want to do that scares me. I want to run the NY Marathon in 2025. I want to do a triathlon. And this winter, I’m going ice climbing!
As Franklin D. Roosevelt said in his March 4, 1933 Inaugural Address, “. . . let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
Hope you enjoy this video from my YouTube channel.
Aaron