Category Archives: Risk/Reward

Finding Awesome

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Amy Christensen

Amy Christensen

Amy Christensen wants you to find your awesome. We all have one–a place where we can tap into our best selves, the goals most inline with that self we sometimes neglect. Life is pretty full of noise these days. If you’re anything like me, you might be wondering how to peel back some of that superfluous white noise and tap into that awesome place we found that one time way down in the depths of the Grand Canyon (or while on that long sailboat crossing, or on that multi-day backpacking trip, or that ski hut trip in BC you took a few years back, or even that yoga retreat you took last year). Hopefully you’ve tapped into your awesome already and know that it’s there. If you haven’t, that’s okay too. Because it’s waiting patiently for you to find it. (Hint: you’re not going to find it on Facebook or Tumblr or even Twitter. This is your true awesome, not the airbrushed one we sometimes like to portray).

Amy is a personal coach, and she encourages you to find your inner awesome by helping you push your boundaries. Her website, Expand Outdoors, offers a plethora of advice and encouragement to quiet the noise and find your best self.  She recently offered a contest for the reader that came up with the best name for her inner gremlin. That’s the little monster inside telling you that you can’t, that you’re not good enough, that no one is going to read your book or cares about your radio show. I named mine L’il Kim, because a) I’ve always wanted to use that moniker and b) because my little gremlin thinks she’s funny.

Amy also names our excuses–she calls them

Expand Outdoors

Expand Outdoors

Monday Morning Excuses–and offers advice on getting over the hump. Whenever you need a little jolt, these little snippets are like hearing the sound of the ice cream truck on a hot summer day. You didn’t even know you were craving a Captain Kool or Fudge Bomb Pop until you heard the faint sound of circus music echoing through your neighborhood. Then it’s like–Bam!–there’s the ice cream man and suddenly you’re licking the chocolate stream running down your arm and it’s nothing but pure awesome.

That’s what Amy helps you find again.

 Click here

Click here

I’m talking with Amy this week on The Edge. Please stop by for a listen. The show goes live on Wednesday at 8 am Pacific, but you can click on the link anytime after it airs to listen to it anytime. Like right now. Just click the link now and catch up on old shows you might have missed. The show is still in pilot now, and soon will be up for renewal. The more listeners the better, so you get my drift. Just click the link.

Getting over the Fear Factor

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Action sports offer more than just an adrenaline rush–they help us face our fears. While life gets safer every day, our search for adventure and challenge remains strong. We seek thrills, push our limits and search for transcendence through outdoor sports. 

Today’s guest poster, Olivia Golding, an aspiring writer from the UK, shares with us her experience with fear and pushing her limits through climbing. She is a 22 year-old barmaid living in Manchester. (Sounds like the making of a future ski bum, if you ask me!) She first started rock climbing two years ago during “Freshers Week” at University (according to Olivia, that’s “basically the week where it’s ‘no holds barred’ and everyone goes a bit mental”). Her philosophy is simple: try everything once. She hopes that if just one person takes up rock climbing because she shared her experience, then her work is done. Take it away Olivia!

rockclimbing01

Indoor rock climbing is the conventional starting point for novices (unless you’re particularly daring!) (photo courtesy of Flickr)

If you’re not even a little bit concerned when staring up at the rock face and contemplating leading off on your first climb then you’ve either got nerves of steel, or there’s probably something wrong with you. That sense of butterflies in the stomach, the feeling that this isn’t really the safest pastime that you could have chosen, that perhaps it would be better to walk the long way round after all rather than go straight up – these are all natural reactions. And as long as that fear doesn’t paralyse you, then you’ll be OK.

For me it was that fear of putting your life into the hands of someone else, the belayer – that was one of the hardest parts of learning the basics of rock climbing. Falling off is something that you expect to happen when you’re getting into the sport – the major concern is that the person on the other end of the rope will catch you when you do.

Having a good teacher is key to building up your confidence. You need someone who will guide you through the basics of how to put on a harness properly, how to tie in and what checks and calls to make before leaving the ground. Safety always has to be a huge part of rock climbing due to the nature of the sport and it’s those basic checks, the first things you learn, that help to give you the strength to start up a wall. Have you checked the straps on your harness have been doubled back? Is the stopper knot on the rope good enough? Is your belay partner ready for you to start? “Ready?” “Ready!” “Climbing!”

rockclimbing02

This will hopefully give you some perspective of the heights you could reach, though despite however prepared you think you are, it still won’t get rid of the butterflies in your stomach. (photo courtesy of Flickr)

Like most people, I started climbing indoors using a fixed top rope. As a beginner, having a rope that has already been passed through a carabiner at the top of the wall ensures that if you do come off, you’re unlikely to fall far. And while it might sound strange, falling off and being caught quickly can actually do a lot to boost your confidence. If you know that there is someone on the ground that’s keeping a close eye on you and is ready to act should you slip, you’ll find you’re far more inclined to take calculated risks and push yourself that bit further when a handhold appears to be just out of reach.

Once you’ve got some experience of top-roped climbs, then leading your first pitch – ie taking the rope up with you and clipping it into carabiners at intervals to protect you in the event of a fall – is the next step. If you do come off the wall then there’s usually further to fall, but as long as you have a good belaying partner you’ll be fine. In many climbing situations, a little bit of encouragement can go a long way. Having someone push you to try a move after you’ve been stationary on the wall for five minutes, unsure that you can make it, can be all it takes. There’s nothing more satisfying than being lowered down from a climb having made it to the top in that situation. It’s when that sense of fear or trepidation is replaced by a sense of achievement that you really start to get the bug for the sport. Bring in the stunning views you can find when you take your climbing outdoors and it won’t be long before you’re well and truly hooked!

Author bio

This post was contributed by Olivia Golding, an amateur but keen outdoor sports enthusiast and writer. When not subjected to indoor constraints, she loves to be outside with nature and its beauty. She strives to be as organised as she can, and can do so with the help of camping stoves and tents from GoOutdoors.co.uk, amongst other essentials.

The Dr. Feel Good of Extreme Sports

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Susan MacKenzie riding a river board

Susan MacKenzie riding a river board

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Join me this Wednesday as I talk to extreme sport psychologist Susan Mackenzie on The Edge.

Dr. Susan Mackenzie is a rare academic. She studies extreme athletes. More to the point, she studies the benefits of adventure to human well-being. Like any action sport athlete, Susan knows in her bones that adventure is good for us. But she’s gone further than just trusting her intuition. She has dedicated her life and academic career to proving it.

Dr. Mackenzie received her PhD in Psychology from University of Otago in New Zealand. Currently she’s an Assistant Professor of Recreation at the University of Idaho.

She recently moved from New Zealand, where she taught courses in Adventure Tourism Management, Outdoor Education and Adventure Recreation and conducted research on psychological aspects of adventure, with an emphasis on positive psychology theories.

Susan’s interest in sport and adventure activities stems from nine years of riverboarding guiding in areas of New Zealand, the US and Chile and competing in the New Zealand National Women’s soccer league.

Her research is grounded in the belief that engaging in outdoor, physical activity is essential to health and mental well-being, and can provide a profound sense of meaning and purpose to everyday life. The results of her research have been published in leisure, tourism and psychology journals.

Kircher-show-descriptionJoin me on The Edge as I talk to Susan MacKenzie about river boarding, finding the flow and the extreme sport experience. Have a question for Susan? Leave a comment here and I’ll ask her on the show. Or call in live Wednesday at 888-346-9144.

Nerves of Steel

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Topping out at over 200mph, Unlimited Hydroplanes are the fastest boats on the water. Racing a course several miles long, alongside other boats going just as fast, Hydro racers like Ryan Mallow face a thrilling Ryan_Mallowdanger every time they step into their boats.

Once Mallow crosses the start line, he goes all out, literally keeping the “pedal to the metal” at all times. These boats maintain their impressive speed by hydroplaning on the water, forming a cushion of air under the boat, allowing them to fly.

Piloting a hydroplane across the water at these speeds is more akin to flying a jet than driving a boat. But Ryan must strike a tenuous balance between water and air. Too low and he won’t win a race; too high and he could blow over.

Kircher-show-descriptionThe key to winning is maintaining nerves of steel. Join me Wednesday at 8AM on The Edge when I talk to hydroplane racer Ryan Mallow about  what it takes to race Unlimited Hydros. Call in live at 1-888-346-9144 on Wednesday at 8AM.

Learning to Fly

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When Jon Malmberg picked up a paraglider for the first time six years ago, he didn’t know his life was about to change. A longtime skier, rock climber, windsurfer and

Jon Malmberg takes flight

Jon Malmberg takes flight

white water kayaker, Jon was no stranger to action sports. Now, John just wants to fly. Canopy sports are his new passion. A skilled acrobatic pilot and paraglider, Malmberg recently spent a winter in the Alps learning to speedfly (the sport of flying a small wing close to steep slopes, usually wearing skis). He’s currently BASE jumping with the hope of someday piloting a wingsuit. He hopes to return to the Alps this summer to complete that goal.

What I find most intriguing about Jon is his passion for a sport that he knows is dangerous. His goal is to fly off the Eiger in a wingsuit. But once he reaches that goal, he plans on quitting the sport. When I asked him why, he told me about the BASE fatality list. This compilation of deaths from the sport of BASE jumping is indeed sobering.

Kircher-show-descriptionThe Edge. I will talk to action sports athletes, sport psychologists and neuroscientists among others as I delve into the behavior and motivations for living a life close to the edge. Please join us while we talk about the rush of flying, the thrill of takeoff and the dreams of flying a wingsuit.

This Proves it: Skiers Make Better Lovers

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Let’s face it. I’m a lucky woman. When not getting paid to ski around, start avalanches with explosives and help injured skiers and snowboarders, I write about it (see, I’m learning to include snowboarders in the discussion, maybe I’m not such a Bad Kim after all.) While researching my new book on risk and action sports, I’ve talked to thrilling athletes, interviewed fascinating scientists and unearthed interesting archives. Yesterday I found this 34-year-old newspaper clipping about skiing and risk, and why it makes us better lovers and well, quite frankly, better people. Of course, this was written before snowboarding, so I’m sure it would apply to them as well. This article was originally published in New London, Connecticut’s Daily The Day January 20th, 1978. It’s a keeper.

Skiers Are Better Lovers Part 1

Skiers Part 2

This sort of proves it. Skiing is good for you. What Sol Roy Rosenthal didn’t know about back in the 70s was the connection that dopamine played in our reward system. The euphoria experienced by extreme athletes is connected to dopamine, which makes us want to keep coming back to the slopes or the waves or the rock walls and experience it again. But most intriguing in Rosenthal’s research is how he claims taking calculated risks increases our awareness while pinpointing our focus, sort of opening us while honing us in all at once. If seeing the big picture with the ability to focus on the moment doesn’t make us better people, better lovers and better skiers (or snowboarders), than I don’t know what will.

Doing it for the Thrill

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Verbier Extreme Spectators

Verbier Extreme Spectators

“Sensation-seekers”, according to psychologists, fill their days with thrilling adventures and novel experiences. Their brains seek more sensation, more of a dopamine kick, more of that optimal flow moment than the rest of the population.

Psychologists have been watching sensation seekers for decades, comparing skydivers to reckless drivers and gamblers, lumping them all together into a wide category of “risk-takers”. Psychologist Marvin Zuckerman created a personality test for sensation seeking, check it out and see where you stack up.

Neuroscientists have recently dipped into the “sensation-seeking” brain and found more enlightening discoveries. I recently interviewed Cynthia Thomson of the University of British Columbia for my upcoming book on action sports. Thomson focused her PhD study on skiers and dopamine. Dopamine is the brain’s way of offering motivation in the form of a reward. It provides that nice kick of good-feeling reverie after we accomplish something big. And it turns out, not all brains handle dopamine the same way. Thomson found that skiers tend to have a variant of the DRD4 dopamine receptor that affects the way their brain handles dopamine. In other words, they needed more thrill to get the same kick.

Just another day in Chamonix

Just another day in Chamonix

Where psychologists and neuroscientists diverge is by lumping together athletes and addicts. In Thomson’s initial study, she didn’t separate them either. But she was able to determine the difference in later work. In addition to being sensation-seekers, addicts also score high for impulsivity. This is not so for high-risk athletes. At least not the ones that stick around. Just imagine an action sport athlete that was also highly impulsive. He or she wouldn’t be around long. Involvement in a risky sport, such as skiing, skydiving or surfing requires careful planning and extensive training. Anyone jumping off cliffs without first checking the landing (acting impulsively) isn’t going to live very long. Impulsivity tends to fade as we age, whereas sensation-seeking remains more stable.

Stevens Pass Boundary warning

Stevens Pass Boundary warning

I believe that as we get older and log more experiences our judgement overrides our impulsivity. This is evident in my job as a ski patroller and EMT. I’ve seen enough head injuries to wear a helmet while skiing. I’ve watched avalanches rip down slopes and break apart trees enough times to choose my line carefully. In many ways, I’ve gained judgement by learning from others’ mistakes. But I’ve also had my fair share of close calls.

My new book project, which I’m calling Crystalized: Finding Clarity on the Edge (but that title probably won’t last, so don’t bother googling it just yet) will take a look at the hows and whys of participation in action sports. I will especially look at my own experiences with dopamine-inducing sports and try to determine where I stack up against the experts. Most of the time I wonder what they have that I don’t have. Why are they able to huck bigger jumps, surf bigger waves, run scarier rapids and overall scare the shit out of me watching them from the near sidelines? Maybe it’s their DRD4 dopamine receptors. Or perhaps it’s their training. Or maybe I’m just a natural born scaredy-cat in comparison.

The best part about this book is the opportunity to interview some amazing athletes and brilliant scientists. I will be sharing some of these interviews here. I will also start hosting a radio show next month at Voice America, an internet radio site, where I will have many of them as guests on the show. (Hopefully you will join me for those interviews.)

Cynthia Thomson’s research suggests that some individuals need more thrill than others. If so, she posits that skiing and other action sports offer a viable avenue for sensation seeking, rather than the more destructive types of negative risks often associated with the term. Either way, her research shows there could be a genetic link to sensation seeking after all.

As if I needed another reason to go skiing.

The Happiness of Being in the Flow

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Southback Hike

Southback Hike

Want to be truly happy? Submerse yourself in something. Anything. As it turns out, we are happiest when we are focused. In the zone, going with the flow, in the moment, call it what you will. But when you are so focused that nothing else can intrude, then you find happiness.

It’s that simple.

Maybe this is why I love to ski. I love to stand on top of a steep chute, drop in and focus only on the feel of the snow beneath my skis. Yesterday I skied a chute called Brain Damage at Crystal. While the name of the chute is intimidating and the entrance is a no fall zone, in reality it isn’t that difficult. It’s enough to make me focus, but not so steep that I have to talk myself into it.

During those first few turns I bobbled a little, catching the inside of my right edge and chattering along the firm surface. I recovered before I even realized what had happened and continued through the narrowest part before traversing over to a wind-buffed Shank’s Chute and skied all the way to the bottom. I thought of nothing else but the skiing: the consistency of the snow, how it started like firm chalk and gave way to a soft, carve-able palate; the way my skis arced from one side of the chute to another, the edges cutting tracks across the raised sides of the chute; the rock partway down the chute that I hopped over gingerly and stopped thinking about the moment I passed over it.

When I got to the bottom, I didn’t look back at my run. I just traversed towards the chairlift with a smile on my face. I was happy. For the few minutes it took me to complete the run, no other thoughts intruded. I did not think about work or the writing assignments in my inbox. There was no room in my brain for how I would juggle my schedule in the upcoming week, or the interviews I had scheduled or the millions of megabytes of brain space being occupied by all the things I wasn’t doing at that moment.

When I'm in the flow, I don't even care if I'm in the back seat.

When I’m in the flow, I don’t even care if I’m in the back seat.

I recently finished reading Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s book FLOW: THE PSYCHOLOGY OF OPTIMAL EXPERIENCE, and I’ve been practicing being in Flow, as he calls it. Flow moments have a few prerequisites.

  • There is a balance between challenge and skill. You won’t feel in flow if you’re either a) scared out of your mind or b) bored. Brain Damage is anything but boring for me. Nor is it so difficult that I’m unable to drop in without wetting my pants. 
  • Feedback is immediate. When I nearly fell at the top of Brain Damage, I received clear feedback. Pay attention. Get your skis underneath you, stupid.
  • The goals are clear. There’s no equivocation. The goal of skiing a steep chute is to get to the bottom with a modicum of style and all of your limbs intact.
  • Action and awareness are merged. This is my favorite prerequisite. My personality vacillates between action and reflection. This is fine, but sometimes I get tired of analyzing everything. When I cannot think beyond the action of my next turn, I’m happy. Truly, truly happy.
  • Time is distorted. A few minutes can seem like an eternity, or hours can whiz by without realizing it. My run yesterday, which lasted less than a minute, felt much longer. I can still recall it in it’s entirety. Even without the help of a helmet cam.
  • Self-consciousness and fear of failure fall away. For the length of my run down Brain Damage yesterday, I did not once worry if I was sticking my butt out too far. When I almost fell, I didn’t consider the consequences or overthink my run. Instead I made the required moves to get back on track and continued down.
  • The experience is autotelic, or worthwhile in itself. I didn’t look back at my tracks, take photos or videos and I didn’t post my run on Facebook (although yes, I’m using it here on my blog as an example of happiness. That doesn’t count). The doing of the thing (not the sharing of the thing) was worthy all by itself.

I, for one, can be in my head a little too much. It is these moments of intense focus that bring me back. As both a writer and ski patroller, I get to experience these flow moments as part of my job, when I’m not over-thinking, I’m simply a part of a larger picture. And that makes me very happy.