The Calm in the Climb
📩 The Edge Letter #4
I led my first trad climb this weekend — 38 metres of Lakeland stone, adrenaline, and decision-making on the edge.
Just a few days earlier, I’d finished learning how to lead on trad. I’d practised placing gear, building anchors, and working with the rope systems that, in real time, would hold my life. I’d learned to trust the metal in my hand — and the judgement behind it.
But no training fully prepares you for the moment when you leave the ground and you are it — the only one placing protection, the only one navigating the route, the only one who has to stay calm while thinking fast. There's no guide above, no safety net below, just you and the rock and the choices you make, second by second.
And that, strangely, felt familiar.
Because if there’s anything dentistry — and leadership — has taught me over the years, it’s that the most important decisions are rarely made in luxury. They happen in motion. They ask for clarity, not perfection. They demand presence, not panic.
Trust the Process — But Lead the Climb
When you’re climbing trad, you don’t get to map everything out in advance. You can plan your route in theory, study the line, even rehearse the gear in your head — but once you’re moving, you have to adapt. You’re scanning for holds, assessing the fall line, and constantly asking: Can I rest here? Will that gear hold? Is this the move?
And you don’t get endless time to decide. You’re tiring. Your muscles are whispering, then shouting. And the longer you hesitate, the weaker your position becomes. You can’t overthink. You have to move. You have to flow.
I found myself halfway up the climb, in a section that felt bold. There wasn’t a clear crack. My arms were starting to burn. I needed to place a piece of gear — but what? A cam? A nut? Which size? I didn’t have time to switch gear three times and still stay strong. I had to know.
And so I did. I trusted the training. I trusted the feel. I trusted myself. I placed the cam, clipped in, breathed — and carried on.
That moment has stayed with me.
Because it wasn’t just about strength or skill. It was about calm in motion. And that’s where leadership lives.
Leadership on the Rock — and in the Room
We talk a lot about leadership in business as something clean and conceptual — vision, delegation, culture. But the truth is: leadership often looks more like trad climbing. You're constantly moving forward while building your own protection as you go. You’re deciding what to anchor to — values, people, priorities — and hoping they hold.
And sometimes, you’re just trying to find the next hold without falling.
This weekend reminded me that fear is part of the deal. You don’t wait until the fear disappears to act — you move with it. In fact, you respect it. Fear sharpens focus. It makes you precise. But it doesn’t get to run the show.
Trad climbing teaches you to assess risk — not avoid it. You calculate, adjust, test, and then commit. And when you do commit, you do it with full presence. That’s the same energy I bring into my leadership role at Andrea Ubhi Dentistry. Whether we’re launching a new clinic, welcoming new team members, or navigating tricky decisions, I’ve learned to stay calm under pressure, lead decisively, and move with trust.
Not blind trust — informed trust. Trust built from preparation, intuition, and experience.
What the Rock Taught Me
There’s something uniquely raw about trad climbing. It’s not flashy or fast. It’s technical, thoughtful, and deeply human. There’s no bolts in the wall. There’s just you — and what you choose to place.
Here’s what I took home from that 38 metres:
You can’t fake calm. It comes from knowing you’re capable, even when your heart’s pounding.
You don’t need to have every answer before you begin. Start climbing — clarity will come.
Fear isn’t a stop sign. It’s a compass. Use it, don’t obey it.
Balance is active. It’s something you adjust for, second by second, not something you arrive at once.
The real confidence comes when you’ve placed your own safety — and you trust it.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot in the context of my patients too — especially those who come to us afraid. Afraid of pain, of being judged, of being vulnerable in a chair they don’t control. My climb reminded me how powerful it is to feel safe because you’re part of the process — not just a passenger in it.
The Calm Is in You
You don’t get calm from waiting until life’s easy. You get calm from learning to hold yourself steady when it isn’t. You get calm from climbing — even when you’re scared.
Whether you’re leading a team, starting something new, or facing something hard, I hope you remember this: You don’t have to be fearless to lead. You just have to move anyway.
That’s what I’ll take into the next climb — and the next boardroom.
And maybe, so will you.
Andrea x
P.S. Thanks for reading.
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