Fear and Adventure Therapy

...examine carefully whatever terrifies you and see the voidness... - The Tibetan Book of the Dead

"You must do the thing you think you cannot do." - Eleanor Roosevelt

A few weeks ago, at the top of the first rappel of Suicide Canyon, I asked, "Hey guys, I don't feel scared anymore.  Do you think that's OK?"

Unanimously, my friends said, "No!"

Why did they say that?  Isn't it good that I don't feel anxiety before a drop?  It's not like my lack of fear causes arrogant complacency leading to my inevitable doom, does it?  

Besides, I enjoy fear.  I dig horror movies, roller coasters, spicy foods, and adventure sports; "the best thing about rappelling is that you can almost die!"  When something scares me, I interpret it to mean that a) it must be something I care about, thus my hesitation and/or b) it will be super fun to try.  I want to go cave diving like nobody's business.

Being the curious cat I am, I had to find out more about this wacky emotion called fear, so I researched it like crazy.  Well, I'm no neuroscientist or evolutionary biologist, and sadly no bookstore sells "Emotions for Dummies".  Who knew it could be so frickin' complicated?  

Fear is not a simple emotion

My earlier drafts of this blog were very ambitious.  I tried like heck to explain the complexity of the brain and how it interacts with the rest of the body, but the more I read, the more my head hurt.  I had flashbacks of the Career Aptitude Test they gave in high school, when the lady said, "I know you want a career in science, Pam, but I'm afraid all your strengths lie in the arts, so you should just stick to that."  I imagine her patting my shoulder, "I think it's cute that you tried to understand millions of years of evolution."  Bite me.

You never forget your first

The first time I did a canyon was quite exciting and scary.  I had no training, and never rappelled before, but I believed I was with the best person I could possibly be with, the Prez of the ACA, so I trusted my leader and felt safe. 

At the first drop, when I was hanging over the edge, he said to me, "There are 3 very important rules you need to know about rappelling.  But, no matter what you do, you can't ever forget the first, most important rule."  

"What's that?"

"Don't ever let go of the rope."

I will never let go, Jack.  I don't remember the rest of what he said, but I was able to do it.  It was an exhausting day for me.  I had crappy balance, and must have fallen a hundred times during the boulder-hopping portions.  When we reached the last rappel, which just happened to be the highest one, the girl in front of me freaked out a bit.  Suddenly, I got scared; my palms were sweaty, my heart pounded, my stomach was in a knot.  I felt worried that I could die, and that no one knew where I was, and after my boss noticed I didn't show up for work, it would take weeks for people to find my bloated body, half-eaten by fishes at the base of the falls.  Who would call my parents and let them know?

A shirtless guy with a backpack hiked up to where we were, "Hey cool, are you all rock climbing or something?"

I found my escape route; "Yeah, you know, this is crazy.  I'm going to hike down with him."

"No, you're not.  You're going to rappel down with the rest of us."  Rich was a rock star of persuasion, and said all the right things to talk me onto that ledge, (something about how those people below were watching me, taking pictures, and that I'd be in their photo albums.  I know, predictable, right?) and I will be forever grateful to him.  He helped me go beyond what I believed were my abilities, and I stepped out of my comfort zone.  I got a reward for my risk, and naturally, I wanted to feel that level of excitement again.

I'm jonesing...I'm jonesing...

There have been plenty of studies about "thrill-seeking genes", or "the adventure part of the brain".  Scientists found that the long version of the D4 dopamine receptor gene has been linked to sensation, or thrill-seeking behavior.  Yes, well, it's also been linked to drug abuse, alcoholism and schizophrenia.  People with the longer version of D4DR are more sensitive to fluctuations in dopamine levels than people with the shorter version.  If they are not constantly stimulated, they may feel depressed.  When dopamine levels increase, they sense thrills more intensely than the average bear.  Therefore, just like an addict, the person craves more excitement just to feel normal.  

Some articles tout that the desire for extreme sports has finally been explained biologically, but I'm not so sure, and this is when it would be handy to have a neurobiologist around.  How do you explain the amount of suffering that goes into mountaineering, or any tough sport for that matter?  You have to push ahead, and get through it.  Climbing K2 isn't a cheap "fix", that's for surezees.  I think that it's more about goal-setting, facing challenges, solving problems, enjoying parts of nature people seldom see, and how great it feels when it's over, and you're having a beer and a laugh with your friends.

Are you a sensation or thrill-seeking, "Type T" personality?  

Of course there's a test to measure if you're a "Type T".  I scored a 33 out of 40 on the Sensation Seeking Scale, , with a 10 out of 10 for the 1st three dimensions, so if you score similarly, you have an intense need for "varied, novel and complex sensations and experiences, and the willingness to take physical and social risks for the sake of such experiences," according to Professor Marvin Zuckerman, the designer of the questionnaire.  Feel free to take the survey and post your comments.

Love your fear

Someone asked me what to do if you encounter a snake on the trail.  She said that she's terrified of them, and always freezes, and doesn't know what to do next.  I told her that some evolutionary psychologists believe a fear of snakes is natural, and has been passed down from our ancestors.  Those who were fearful of poisonous snakes were too afraid to taunt them, and survived, therefore passing along a deep-seated knowledge that snake=bad.  

It's good that she freezes, because then she won't step on it, or make sudden movements.  I suggested that if she must hike among the rattlers, that she makes noise while she's hiking (just like in bear country) so they can get out of the way, and should carry hiking poles or a walking stick to use in the unlikely event that one would strike.  (According to a study done by the National Safety Council in 2003, the odds are 1 in 145 million that you'll die by a snake or lizard bite.)  If you back away slowly from the snake, it will most likely lose interest and move on.  This handy video explains exactly what goes on in your brain after meeting Mr. Snakey-snake.

Every experience we have is accounted for, changing our brain, building memories and secondary emotions, making it easier to face future challenges.  My first rock climbing friend told me that he believed his sport made him a better person.  He said whenever he pushed his boundaries and overcame obstacles in frightening situations, it built confidence and character that he could apply to his "real life".  

I said, "So rock climbing is like Adventure Therapy?"

"Exactly."  

I imagine scuba diving through caves with low ceilings would make ordinary life seem like cake. 

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For more on fear and memory, check out this video.   These videos are part of a touring science exhibit for kids called "Goosebumps, the Science of Fear".  Right now, it's at the Museum of Science in Boston, Massachusetts.