Just Beyond The Edge

Cliff diving has taught me more than I could ever have imagined. When I first started, it was just a wild idea—an impulse to try something new, a summer job in a stunt show at an amusement park, a way to stretch my comfort zone and enjoy the thrill of adrenaline and dopamine. But now, years later, as I stand on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the vastness below, I realize that it’s so much more than a sport. It’s been a journey of self-discovery, one that has forced me to question everything I thought I knew about fear, strength, limits, and what it truly means to live a fulfilled life.

The first time I leapt from a cliff, my heart pounded in my chest like it was going to burst. The world around me seemed to slow down, and all I could hear was the sound of my own breath and the rush of wind in my ears. For those few seconds in free-fall, I was weightless, unburdened by the earth and water beneath my feet, completely alive. But then, of course, I hit the water—sharp, cold, and unforgiving. The impact was intense, like diving into a brick wall. My muscles screamed, and for a split second, I thought I was done for.

But I resurfaced, sputtering and gasping for air. And in that moment, it hit me: I had survived. I had just leapt off a cliff—and not only had I made it out the other side, but I could do it with grace, athleticism, and pursue a career showcasing this incredible sport to the world. 

That moment of triumph sparked a fire inside me. Over the years, cliff diving has challenged my body in ways I never thought possible. But more importantly, it has tested my mind and spirit. What is hard? What is truly scary? When faced with the drop, the answer is simple: everything. The wind, the height, the unknown. The doubt. But once you let go and fly, you realize that the real challenge isn’t the jump—it’s the decision to make it in the first place.

What is uncomfortable? It’s standing on that edge, looking down, knowing that every muscle in your body is screaming at you to turn back, to play it safe. It’s feeling your heart race and your mind flood with “What ifs?” What if I don’t make it? What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough? And yet, you leap, trusting that the power of belief, focus, and preparation will carry you through. The moment you leave the edge, everything shifts. You’re no longer afraid because you’re free.

What are my limits? I’ve had to redefine them more times than I can count. Throughout my career, I thought I had reached my breaking point more times than I care to admit. Each dive, each fall, each plunge into the unknown pushed me to face what I thought were the limits of my own body and mind. More injuries than I could count, multiple surgeries, and a few close calls with the grim reaper himself and his sharp scythe have knocked me down to rock bottom and beyond, back to the drawing board, broken and unsure I can go on. But I’ve learned that limits are not walls—they’re simply thresholds, places where we feel unsure of what comes next. Once you step past them, you realize that the sky opens up, and you’re capable of far more than you ever imagined.

And what’s possible? It’s everything. What I once thought was impossible—leaping from dizzying heights, twisting and flipping through the air, diving into unknown waters—is now just part of my reality. I have learned that the impossible isn’t a fixed point, it’s just a place we haven’t reached yet. It’s a challenge we’ve yet to overcome. And the more I dive, the more I see that anything is possible if you have the courage to take that first step and leap of faith.

What’s important? In a sport that’s all about pushing the limits and conquering fear, you’d think the answer would be easy—fame, glory, podiums, the thrill of the dive. But what I’ve realized is that the most important thing isn’t the jump itself nor the accolades. It’s the process—the preparation, the learning, the growth, and the community. It’s the relationships I’ve built with fellow divers and community members who share the same passion, the way we support each other, the way we celebrate both triumphs and failures. It’s about the journey, not just the destination. The dive is just the moment in time when everything you’ve worked for comes together, but the true reward is the person you become along the way.

And what truly matters? Well, when you’re standing on that cliff, staring down at the endless horizon, you begin to understand that what matters most is the courage to take the leap—not just in diving, but in life. Every decision we make, every fear we face, every leap into the unknown teaches us something new. And with every dive, I’ve learned to trust myself more, to embrace the uncertainty, and to let go of the need to control every outcome.

It’s crazy to think that something as simple as jumping off a cliff, an outlandish profession and career path, could become my north star in defining such integral pieces of my life. But here I am, standing at the edge once again, ready to dive—because, as I’ve learned, the only limits are the ones we set for ourselves. And there’s a whole world waiting below, just beyond the edge.