Climbing out of the therapy room

Andy Cross and Tessa Tilbe write about the development of ‘climbing for wellbeing’, otherwise known as ‘bouldering therapy’, at the University of Cumbria. What am I doing? I’m way out of my depth. No, this is fine, it’s well within your ability, you’re just scared. Take a breath, it’s just a couple of moves and then you’ll be fine.' Failing to reassure myself, I look behind me and judge whether I can climb back to my partner and set up an abseil to retreat off the 30 metres we had just climbed. I feel a familiar tightness in my chest and my legs start to tremor. At this moment, I pause and take a deep breath. Calming myself down, I purposefully lower my shoulders and stand up straight. I notice my heartbeat slowing down, feel the cold rock under my fingertips, and open my eyes. I reach for the next hold and begin climbing again. It’s climbs like this that have both humbled me and helped me grow in equal measure. Climbing provides a visceral response and can present you with abject fear and absolute joy, sometimes all within the same route. Although I’m no longer the obsessive climber I was in the late-1990s, climbing still never ceases to surprise me and I continue to learn so much about myself through the activity.