04.12.07 kulturnatib

Fear of falling

The other weekend I volunteered for marshalling duties with an urban adventure race. I did not know my duty before hand but depending on the actual nature of the race and the particular event at the particular control point where the racers would have to go through, it could have been anything from simply taking down team names, dealing with race passports or more technically complicated duties dealing with climbing, rapelling or rope equipment.

As it happened, I was assigned to the rapelling event. It was located on one of the higher spots of the Boy Scouts Camp up Beverly Hills, where the ground formation – though not natural, I don't think – was ideal for a rapelling event.

I was assigned to be the belayer. In rapelling the belayer acts as the safety stop for the person rapelling down who for any reason would lose control of his or her fall and is in danger of plummeting all the way down. I also take care of disconnecting the rapeller from the rope and making sure that they bring back the aluminum ring that makes their descent possible.

As soon as the belayer sees that the rapeller is beginning to lose control, he pulls on or tightens the tension of the rope on which the rapeller is attached through a harness worn around the waist and the legs and by which is able to control his fall. This stops the fall, and suspends the rapeller in position until such time that he or she regains control and is able to proceed with the controlled or assisted fall.

Up until that time, I haven't have done any belaying. But, I have seen this done enough times that I was confident I could do it. It is not rocket science and one doesn't need extraordinary strength because the anchoring of the rope holds up more than enough of the rapeller's weight.

So there I was. It was only then, as our team – composed of a checker who made sure that the teams had the proper passwords and the equipment, the harnesser who made sure that the harness is worn properly and is safely attached to the rope, the roper who controls the tension of the rope at the upper end and who would instruct the rapellers on how to properly rapell, and myself, the belayer, that I learned this race was an anniversary event for a gym and the racers were clients of this gym.

These then were no strangers to strenuous activity and you would imagine them to be more willing to take risks than the average Juan or Juana. Sure enough, when the first team showed up with the proper password thus could proceed with the event at our control point, they had gym-molded physiques.

But then, as soon as the first racer steps on the ledge and is ready to begin rapelling or walking down backwards, one sees that that there are things that no amount of gym molding can address; the fear of falling, for one.

No matter that the the roper had instructed them, “like they were children,” as Ariel, the roper, said, and had demonstrated to them that as long as they followed those instructions they were perfectly safe and their landing assured, this fear would take over, often, completely.

And then, everything would go wrong: the legs are bent, they are together instead of far apart, the hand that actually controls their fall by the releasing or gripping of the rope is not in the position where maximum control is easily achieved and, worse, the head is in the upside down position. Panic!

Then, I step in. I tug at the rope, tighten the tension. Their fall is arrested. Even if they totally let go of the rope, they will fall no further. They are just hanging now and have the opportunity to do something about their upside down position.

Ariel instructs them on how to extricate themselves: Legs apart, push with your feel on the wall, straighten up, get your rope control hand in position, now push, push, push. I also echo those instructions reassuring them that they can do it. And they do.

When they finally touch ground, they are smiling. That wasn't so difficult, I ask. No, they would invariably say. They look up. It's only perhaps 30 feet. It's actually easy, they shake their heads.

Everybody should go through such exercise at least once in their lives. This is a very good exercise at fear management. And trust and clear thinking and letting go.

As we were packing up the equipment with the last of the racers finished with their paces at our control station, a boy who, I think, lived in the neighborhood and who had been watching approached me and shyly asks if he could try it. I said go up there and tell them you would want to try before they put away the rope.

They suit him up with the harness. Ariel asks him if he knows what to do. He nods. He backs into the ledge. He gives a good shove with his legs. He flies off the ledge. He arcs, he sticks his legs out and stops on the wall. He pushes off again. Two more times and he was on the ground. Like SWAT. No sweat.