Ive always had a fear of falling.
My phobia also seemed to go beyond just a fear of falling.
I constantly worried about getting physically injured in general.
Courtesy of the author
So in a very literal sense, I avoided the world.
But to be honest, I had no idea where my fear came from.
I dont remember falling onto a bed of nails as a kid or anything.
That is until I moved to Brooklyn after college and someone showed me a video of people doing parkour.
The athletes jumped from roof to roof, somersaulting over alleys and racing up walls.
They looked comfortable in their surroundings in a way Id never felt.
It is beneficial to do or confront what youre afraid of (experts consider thisexposure-based therapy).
But this is best done gradually and with the guidance of a mental health professional.
Jumping straight into whatever your phobia is can actually make it worse for some people, Sawchuk pointed out.
Inside, the walls were at least 20 feet high and covered in graffiti.
The place was filled with people breakdancing, flipping, and landing in pits of foam cubes.
This was, apparently, where all the cool people were.
Im here for the parkour class?
I squeaked at the receptionist.
He pointed toward a few women stretching at the back of the room.
A big group of people were practicing martial arts between them and me.
How do I get around them?
I asked, pointing at the karate kids.
Wait for the right moment, he said.
After a couple minutes, a gap appeared.
I quickly squeezed past the men kicking and punching the air.
The instructor, who also worked as a stuntwoman, wasnt the kind of person Id imagined doing parkour.
She was a short woman with a brown ponytail and freckles.
But her movements were more cat than human, herculean strength packed into her small body.
So, what do you want to do?
the instructor asked us after an excruciating warm-up involving walking on all fours.
You want to climb up a wall?
The wall in question was about 10 feet tall, made specifically for this purpose.
It was painted to look like brick.
The instructor showed us how to run at the wall and where to aim our feet.
Then she had us try.
The first girl took a running start and started up the wall but fell back down.
The rest had mixed success; some could do it, some couldnt.
When it was my turn, I stared down the wall like a soldier at the Alamo.
I tried to position my feet the way she told us.
My right foot hit the wall, propelling me up.
But fear suddenly flooded my body, as if it was replacing my blood.
I thought nothing and felt nothing.
What else can we do to screw her over?
Eyes: I know!
I later asked Sawchuk why my body would do something so counterproductive.
He said that closed eyes are part of the way your body braces itself for disaster.
And indeed, disaster, or at least failure, ensued.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the ground.
Id plummeted a whopping three feet.
I couldnt remember falling.
Its all mental, the instructor told me.
it’s possible for you to do it.
Finally, near the end of class, we had enough time for one more attempt.
I faced the wall.
Thirty feet to the wall.
I sprang off the ground, my right foot hitting the wall, pushing me up.
I felt the familiar feeling coming on, the rush filling me, my eyes starting to close.
But I forced them open.
For the first time, my left foot hit the wall, pushing me further up.
I reached for the top and grabbed the brick edge with one hand.
I hung there for a second, out of momentum, amazed that my fingers were touching the top.
And then I fell back down.
I kept my eyes open again, and I scrambled up the wall.
My right hand grabbed the top.
Then my left hand made contact and I could hoist myself up.
I climbed up and sat on top, my legs dangling in the air.
I ran up a wall, I thought to myself, dazed.
And while I walked home that night, I noticed a brick wall.
I sized it up.
Normally, I would have thought of the wall as a piece of background art to my life.
But something was different this time.
It looked like that wall in the gym.
It was familiar, approachable even.
Because the physical world now, finally, felt like a game that I could play.
