This article is based on my personal experience with falling, a subject that greatly impacts climbing performance. Everyone has their own views on falling, but I feel it's important to share mine, as it played a crucial role in shaping my climbing journey.
Falling is inevitable in climbing, yet it often remains a fear that climbers must confront. For me, that fear was heightened after my first significant fall outdoors, which left a lasting impact on my confidence.
When I first began climbing, I wasn’t too concerned with falling because I felt comfortable on the routes I chose. I didn’t even consider the questions: How should I fall safely? What should I do when I fall? But that changed quickly after an early experience. About a month into climbing, I took a fall that deeply affected me.
I was climbing with a friend who was also new to the sport. The route began with a slab and transitioned into a vertical wall, where you had to step sideways off the slab’s edge. My arms were completely pumped by the time I reached this section. I managed to clip a quickdraw, but my grip was failing, and I couldn’t pull the rope through to clip it. Panic set in as I realized I couldn’t hold on with one hand long enough to clip in. Grabbing the quickdraw with my hand, I began slipping. I knew I had no choice but to fall.
It wasn’t a huge fall—about 5 meters—but I made a crucial mistake. My leg was in front of the rope, causing me to flip upside down. I was lucky to only bruise my elbow, but my harness, which was slightly too big, squeezed hard around my midsection, leaving me in pain and gasping for air. That fall rattled me to the core, and for a while, I couldn’t even lead the easiest routes.
When gyms reopened after the COVID lockdowns, I went to indoor climbing. This time I was climbing with an experienced partner. He encouraged me to climb until I fell on overhangs, explaining that falling in such conditions was safer, as there was nothing to hit. I trusted him, knowing the key rule: keep your legs behind the rope. When I finally took that fall indoors, it was uneventful—no injury, no fear. In fact, I barely felt it, just a little flutter in my stomach.
That experience helped me become more comfortable falling inside, and my climbing skills improved. But outside was another story. Even after a year, I still feared falling on lead, especially when bolts were spaced far apart. Eventually, I took my second outdoor fall, and this time it went well. It helped ease some of my fears, but that mental block remains a hurdle that slows my progress outdoors.
One recent climb really highlighted how my fear of falling can limit my performance. A friend and I were on a challenging route, and he pushed hard but fell four times at the last quickdraw, unable to reach the anchor. His arms were too tired for the final move. He asked if I wanted to give it a try. As the light faded, I climbed quickly to the last bolt. The final sequence was amazing but terrifying. I needed to place a high heel hook and pull on a far flat hold using mostly upper body strength. The anchor was close, but the last bolt was far away, so I panicked and downclimbed.
It made no sense—the anchor was closer than the last bolt! But fear took over. I tried again, and once again downclimbed. My friend couldn't attempt it again, and I didn’t want to leave gear behind, so I gathered myself. I knew I had the ability to finish the route if I could overcome my fear. I climbed up for the third time, conditioned my mind, and grabbed the anchor. The feeling of release and triumph was incredible. I had conquered my fear in that moment, and the satisfaction was immense.
Falling is an unavoidable part of climbing, but the fear of it can hold us back from reaching our full potential. My experiences, both positive and negative, have taught me the importance of trusting your belayer, conditioning your mind, and practicing in a safe environment. While fear may always be present, learning to manage it, and turning it into a tool for growth, is key to improving as a climber. Remember, every fall is a lesson, and each time you get back up, you're one step closer to overcoming your fear.