Asked to name the thing I’m most scared to do, and what it would take to persuade me to do it, and I’m honestly struggling.

I don’t mean that to sound like I’m Billy Big B****cks, because as I hopefully grow old, there will be some medical issues inevitably lurking further down the line which will totally freak me out. Like having a cataract removed. Oh no! Let’s not go there!

However, if it comes to doing something voluntarily, then I’m game for just about anything.

OK, I wouldn’t be getting into a boxing ring with Tyson Fury and calling him a bit of a pansy, that’s for sure. And there’s nothing on this earth could persuade me otherwise.

But within reason, and with appropriate safety measures taken, I like the challenge of conquering my fears.

For instance, I’ve always been afraid of heights. I don’t suffer from nightmares, but one recurring dream has me faced with a drop of about only thirty feet from a house.

And yet, some years ago (2006 I think) I did this:

The Macau Tower is 338 metres in height. Why did I do it? What did it take to persuade me to face my fear?

It took only six words, passed in jest:
“Do you fancy doing that, Colin?”

I didn’t need asking twice – I guess you could say I’m a bit of a foolish show-off!

Of course I was scared. I was scared witless if truth be known. ( I said WITless, but your mis-read was almost correct 😉 )

The buzz and smug satisfaction I felt when I got back onto terra firma easily trumped my fear though.

So what’s left that I’m scared to do?

Probably taking a broken pay-packet home to my wife on a Friday night.

I mean, there’s being scared … and then there’s being just plain stupid!

😀

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