Fear is like fire. You can make it work for you: it can warm you in the winter, cook your food when you’re hungry, give you light when you are in the dark, and produce energy. Let it go out of control and it can hurt you, even kill you… Fear is a friend of exceptional people… You must understand fear so you can manipulate it.

Cus D’Amato

I was never a winter sports guy. Our trips to the mountains as a kid were mostly about the cabin hotel, barbecues, and light walks – nothing that actually took us into the mountains. I can’t remember when I first heard about skimo, but it sounded like a cool thing to do: going up the slopes on skis, pulling off the skins, then skiing down. It seemed interesting enough to let the idea sink in.

I even asked around a couple of years ago to put together some kind of gear setup, but I never followed through. I kept telling myself the investment was too high – that even if I could go up, how would I go down, not knowing how to ski? What if I got hurt? What if I didn’t end up using it?

Come to think of it, it was fear. I was afraid of sucking at it. Afraid of doing it with people better than me. Afraid of being humiliated.

I backed off, but the thought kept coming back now and then.

Then last week, I went out for a coffee and ran into Dan, who casually said, “we should go skimo!”

My first mental reaction was, Fuck yeah, let’s do that. But then fear crept in and I blurted out, I don’t know, man. I don’t have the gear or the skills for that. I’ll sit this one out.

There it was again – rationalising. Running through all the what-ifs before actually giving it a fair shot. The thing is, there’s a thin line between danger and avoidance.

…but one thing stood out more than anything else: I was far more afraid before doing the thing than while doing it.

Danger is going alone into the mountains on unpopulated routes – setting yourself up for trouble without much thought. I can’t do that anymore.

Avoidance is something else entirely. It’s not even trying.

What was I actually afraid of? What could really go wrong? And why?

Dan pushed back: “nah, you can use some of your running gear, and we’ll rent the rest.”

And that was it. The idea that had been nagging me for years finally broke through. Less than a week later, we went skimo.

I didn’t die. Fuck it – I even enjoyed being bad at something. They took care of me, and yes, they were obviously far better skiers than I was. But one thing stood out more than anything else: I was far more afraid before doing the thing than while doing it.

I’m a true believer in leading by example. And now, with a kid looking up to me, it matters even more to put myself in unfamiliar places. Not knowing what to expect. To teach and be taught.

It felt good to be a novice again. Fear never went away. It just stopped being the loudest voice.