I climbed some mountains and almost had a full blown panic attack on the side of a cliff. Nasty weather, which I would have enjoyed had I not been clinging to a rock, made my imagined tumble down the side of the mountain seem even more imminent. I continue to be terrified of heights, something I try not to let bother me when I happen to be on one. It doesn't always work. I go climbing because I know I shouldn't let fear stop me but the activity is one that I can only enjoy retrospectively, after I have returned safely to flat land and my limbs have ceased shaking.
Went to the Lake District Friday and came back Sunday.