It usually happens a few moments after finishing, I realise that it wasn't an unpleasant experience at all – I was actually enjoying myself, but only after it's over. So I have to do it again. And again.

“You think I should lead this pitch? Uh, OK, it looks pretty good. Except that it's seeping, slimy and steep.” I was trying to avoid sounding like a whining wuss, but to me the final pitch looked like ultra concentrated death. I stared at the wall and saw a carefully concocted cocktail of life ending constituents – the final ingredient being my foolish pride. He might as well be suggesting that I climb an overhanging cactus above a writhing tangle of rabidly snapping alligators. Or maybe I was being a wimp. Climbing with Bernard was never boring. On the way to the crag he would whine like a sissy if he had to walk more than thirty paces, but now he was asking if I wanted to have a go at leading and I felt like a kid being coaxed into swimming with jellyfish. It wasn't really a dare, he wasn't trying to lay down the gauntlet, but I took it like that anyway.

Raw flesh sheared in my head and my brain connections failed, my reasoning was being sliced to pieces by an invisible logic defying foe. It didn't make any sense, why would I willingly subject myself to this? It's so irrational, surely if the only reward is the feeling of 'oh god, I'm so glad I didn't die' then there's not really any reward at all. It doesn't put everything into perspective, it narrows perspective to the point where there is only now, there is this rock and there is me, climbing.

It was then that I understood what people meant when they said 'the sharp end'. The sharp end was stabbing violently deep into my belly, and the fear wasn't leaking out. There was something else jabbing into my heart but it didn't disrupt the terror broadcast. It was digging a hole – a small obstacle for the colossal fear-monster that was charging towards me. It would slow the creature down, but it was still coming. My heart was stumbling over its own beat; I can barely even remember the moves or how the holds felt. I have no idea if it was hard or easy, it just happened, I do remember placing a size five nut sideways. Momentarily distracted, thoughts crept in... 'Cool! They can go in sideways too.” Bernard shouted up at me as I approached the top but his words didn't make it through the fear filter.

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Write approximately 500 words about your first outdoor lead and supply an image of you climbing (not necessarily your first lead) and submit to: http://www.ukclimbing.com/articles/send.html

The competition will be judged by us here at DMM and the winner announced on Monday 24th December and will win a complete DMM rack worth £500.

But more than that, everyone who submits an essay will receive a spot prize.

More details HERE