Kick Into Second Gear and Go to the Edge of the Cliff

Facing down fears to live a full life

My husband Andrea and I have been hiking since we met 32 years ago. We are blessed to have many trails near our home in the San Gabriel mountains and Angeles National Forest, making morning and weekend hikes very accessible. One of our first big hiking excursions was nearby Mt. Baldy (also known as Mount San Antonio), which at 10,064 feet has challenging topography in some areas. My memory of that first hike in 1993 was that it was a little tough but very doable and enjoyable.

Jump ahead a couple of decades to 2017. Our 10-year-old son made it a goal to climb Mt. Whitney (the tallest mountain in the lower contiguous 48 states), so we decided to take him to Mt. Baldy for one of several training hikes. This will be fun! I’ve gone up Baldy before, no problem. I’m not sure why a dicey area known as the Devil’s Backbone (need I explain the name?) wasn’t seared in my mind, but I apparently breezed through it 25 years earlier without much fanfare. This time, however, this very sketchy stretch of the hike struck me with near-paralyzing fear. I was so scared, I seriously contemplated crawling…but I didn’t want to embarrass my son who had cruised through without a second thought. Clearly, I’m here to tell the tale, so I successfully got up and down, but the trepidation that almost rendered me immobile really took me by surprise.

Andrea, Alessio, and myself on the summit of Mt. Baldy, 2017

Natural fears
In my day-to-day life, although I had not become more fearful in general, I noticed that I was perhaps more hesitant to venture into the unknown. Heights were now scarier than when I was younger, and I even became slightly apprehensive to go by myself to the west side of town (some 30 miles away) where I had regularly commuted for 10 years without giving it a second thought. I started wondering if this was something that happens as we get older. Was I the only one? Is it normal to become more fearful as we get older? As it turns out, yes, it can be—for a couple of reasons.

Our fight-or-flight response apparently diminishes with age (who knew?) and therefore some phobias may actually improve; however other fears—such as a fear of heights or large crowds—can worsen because we feel more vulnerable. As older, mature adults, we’ve experienced enough situations that have cemented in our minds the gravity of consequences, so we will naturally be more cautious and hesitant than our younger selves.

Then there are tangibly physical reasons. The prefrontal cortex, which is the area of the brain responsible for cognitive behavior, begins to lose plasticity—flexibility—as we age. This area of the brain is responsible for a fear extinction process that occurs after a frightening situation. With diminishing neuroplasticity, the fear extinction mechanism is delayed, resulting in more caution and anxiety.

We have control
The good news is we have control in both aspects—physical and mental. Physically, because the brain has the ability to build new connections, there are many ways to help maintain and even build neuroplasticity. Challenging activities such as learning a new language, playing games, being creative, and even reading can stimulate changes in the brain. Regular physical activity is associated with preventing neuron loss, and paddle games such as tennis, ping pong, and the raging popular pickle ball, actually enhance cerebellum function and strengthen the hippocampus¹. Getting adequate sleep (which is at least seven and half hours) is of paramount importance, as well as a healthy diet that includes Omega-3 fatty acids that are vital for overall brain health.(If you’d like to learn more about brain and overall health, Max Lugavere’s book, Genius Life, provides a good foundation.)

Mentally, the key to conquering any fear is to confront it. I freely admit I’m afraid (no pun intended) that my slowly emerging fears will eventually erode my ability to fully experience and enjoy life. Therefore, in my mind, as an augment to a healthy longevity lifestyle, I need to do two things: continue to push through experiences that frighten me, and try new things to keep growing.

The law of the universe is nothing stays the same… it either progresses or regresses. Albeit at varying rates, even imperceivable movement is movement. If we aren’t growing, we are withering.

With this edict, last week I pushed myself to do three things that were a wee bit scary and uncomfortable

Go up to the edge of the cliffs
First up, a dear friend invited me to a luncheon at an exclusive club to hear an author speak. Why would this be so uncomfortable? Several reasons. A) I’m not a good chitter-chatter. I’m happiest in my wallflower position; when I’m with Andrea, he’s our talk-with-anyone-frontman, and I gladly take the backseat. The thought of talking up complete strangers, even with my friend beside me, was painful. B) I’m a creature of habit and I relish working through the day until school pickup, so this was a big speed bump mid-day. C) Lunch is my main meal and I’m rather protective about it because I craft it with plenty of protein; and since I don’t eat meat, I rarely get enough protein at an event. BUT, I decided to jump in, got dressed up—even lipstick—and ended up having a really lovely time. I was hungry, but I was glad I went and very grateful for the invitation. Phew, I made it!

Second and third episodes were during a jaunt to the sand dunes of the Mojave Desert as guests of close family friends who—lucky for us—have all the sand toys our 16-year-old son, Alessio, adores. Over the course of three years, he has become quite proficient at “quadding” (going fast, upwards and getting “air”). For those of you unfamiliar with this pastime, these are All Terrain Vehicles (ATVs) that zoom over hills and virtually fly over rough terrain. Although I grew up with four-wheel fun in the desert, in all the time we’ve been journeying out to this majestic sand box I’ve been an observer… even though it looks like a lot of fun. Seeing this was an off-weekend with only a handful of people spread over 7,000 acres, I decided to dip my toes. I told Andrea, “I think I want to try riding a quad.”

Nothing about a quad is familiar: the gas is a thumb lever, changing gears is an up-or-down bar under your left foot…and when it shifts out of neutral it lurches forward. Scary monster. I swung my leg over, got in the saddle and tried to focus on learning how the heck to ride this beast in a tight circle around our camp. First gear was barely one mile an hour…if that. Second gear was going to require some careful timing: releasing the gas, kicking it into gear, and re-engaging the gas…completely out of my realm of expertise.

The first time giving it a whirl, I stayed in first gear just trying to get a feel for it and build confidence that I wasn’t going to fall off. Andrea kept calling to me “go into second gear” but I shook my head, I couldn’t muster up the courage. Next time. About 30 minutes later, I tried again. I felt much more ease… my circle around the camp grew in diameter… this verged on enjoyment, I think I may have been smiling. Andrea called out again, “go into second gear!” and I threw caution to the wind, released the gas, kicked up the gear shift, a split second later hit the gas—and I was in second gear! Oh. My. Gosh. Success! It felt great not only being in second, and the increased speed was exhilarating! With pleasure, I parked, triumphantly hopped off, and reveled in my new-found driving skills.

Next up, Andrea’s goal for the trip was to venture out on foot, which we had never seen anyone doing. People ride at the dunes, they don’t walk. But this expansive, flat, camp area is flanked by the sea of sand dunes on one side, and rolling foothills tucking up against mountains on the other. We had gazed at these outlying hills, always curious about them. It looked, enticingly, like a ton of ground to cover. We decided to head out at sunrise.

As the sun was peeking up over the hills, we forged into the great unknown. As we got closer to the distant slopes, we saw there was some sort of a canyon in between us and the hills. We honestly had no idea it was there. What the heck…we were gobsmacked. From our long-shot vantage point, it looked ginormous. For heaven’s sake, there were cliffs! It was a gorge! My first reaction was, “no way, I’m not climbing down into that abyss…” then the closer we got and the reality of the condition came into full view, we saw that they weren’t cliffs after all, maybe 10-15 foot high earth walls, with ATV trails every so often, but certainly not the deathtraps I perceived a few minutes prior. Ok, maybe I can do this. This looked much more manageable. But it’s essentially a wash. I’m from Tucson, flash flood country. What if the conditions in the distant mountains suddenly and unexpectedly changed and the snowpack melted and a torrent of water came racing down? What if there were four-legged, fast-running, hungry wild animals in there?

Not to make a long story longer… we went down into the ravine, climbed back up, traversed along trails, headed back down again, and finally popped up near the entrance of the park. Three and a half miles later, we arrived back to the safety of our campsite, exhilarated to have explored and conquered the chasm we didn’t even know existed.

Build resiliency
The moral of the story? In conquering these three fears, I filled the reservoir of courage to face down future ones. As distressing as it is, I need to persist in pushing through anxieties and fortifying my resiliency for the other scary matters—like taxes, a second career, and a teenage son with a new driver’s license. There is a lot of life left to live. I’m honing healthy diet and exercise habits, and I’ll continue kicking into second gear—maybe even taking it to third!—and going up to the edge of the cliff to discover… it’s not so scary after all.

1. 7 Surprising Ways Pickleball Benefits Your Brain, Amen Clinics Blog, February 21, 2022, https://www.amenclinics.com/blog/7-surprising-ways-pickleball-benefits-your-brain/

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