Afterwards, I always do a five-point check. I go through my fingers and say: thumbs up, what was good about the day. Then the index finger, watch out, what do I need to be careful about in the future. Then the middle finger, what do I want to do without in the future. Then the ring finger, what do I want to hold onto in the future. And the pinky, that can still develop further, so in other words, what did I learn from the flight.
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with Yvonne
Date and
I'm Lucian Haas.
Anyone who does paragliding should constantly remind themselves why or for what purpose they do it. Those who can put forward good arguments for paragliding to themselves will find it easier to deal with setbacks and frightening experiences in their flying career. Simply because you have reasons to stick with it and not let your fear defeat you, which otherwise could keep you away from the sky sooner or later.
Yvonne Date can really sing about this. Not just because she has herself had to deal with unpleasant setbacks in her nearly 30-year flying career. Above all, because as a mental coach, she helps other female and male pilots get a jump on dealing better with fears and other difficulties surrounding the flying hobby. In this Podz-Glidz episode No. 109, the 46-year-old talks about her work. In doing so, she gives several tips on how to manage to be mindful and put your own flying joys and needs at the center. Other topics include competition flying, the blessing and curse of social media, the emotional world of pilots, flight doping, and the X-Alps.
Because Yvonne has actually participated in those. We recorded this film. By the way, we recorded this podcast quite spontaneously on a rainy day at another paraglider competition, the NRW Cup in Sauerland. If you like Podz-Glidz, then please support my work as a promoter. You can find out how easy that is on the associated Gleitschirm-Blog Lu-Glidz, specifically on the "Fördern" page.
Yvonne, which question do you think a paraglider should definitely ask themselves at some point?
Yes, why you paraglide at all. Why do I paraglide?
Why do you do it?
I do it because I love traveling by paraglider and because paragliding has allowed me to rediscover the world and experience it from a completely different perspective. And specifically through competition flying, I've gotten to know new countries that I never would have thought to travel to before. For example, places like Macedonia or Colombia or Ecuador or Portugal.
And yes, paragliding has opened up a new world for me.
But that's something that basically comes later with paragliding, the traveling part. You might not even have it in mind at the beginning, that it's possible and that it's such a unique quality of paragliding. What was the initial impulse for you?
So, my initial impulse was that my father and I—my parents had separated and my father and I were looking for a shared hobby. We were hiking together when someone arrived with a backpack and unpacked his paraglider at the top of the mountain. He then flew down into the valley, and we thought, wow, that would be so cool if we could do that too. Following that, we went and got our paragliding licenses together.
How long was it between seeing it and saying, "That's cool," and you actually standing on the mountain doing your first flight?
I don't really know anymore. I don't know. I think we had... I think I was 14 or something back then.
Back then, you could only get your license at 16. And I think I did the basic course at 16. So yes, I did the basic course then.
So it's been a while. Do you still go flying with your father today?
Well, he still flies too, but we actually fly together quite rarely. Why? Yeah, because my father just—well, he lives somewhere else, so he has different flight areas than I do. And when he's there, he does fly, but he just has different interests when it comes to flying. So for him, it's more about thermals and then landing again. And by now, when I'm in the Allgäu, I'm doing a lot of tandem flying; I do that professionally. And when I'm not doing tandem flying, I'm at the competition and fly along with the competitions.
Which do you enjoy more, competition or tandem?
Well, I don't think it's an either-or situation; it's kind of both parts of paragliding. I think it's incredibly nice to take other people who don't know paragliding at all and let them experience thermals, experience paragliding. And when they're standing on the ground laughing their heads off, that's just great. But I also think that flying yourself and going to competitions to have your own flight experience is just as much a part of it. I think both are good, both are different, but they somehow belong together. Doing only tandem flying wouldn't be enough in the long run, I think. But doing only competitions either. Yeah, I think it's simply the mix.
With tandem flying, at least you get into the air more often. With competition, you often have to wait for it to start and stuff like that. And with tandem flying, you can say, come on, we're heading to the mountain at 10 o'clock. I can already fly the first one down and then things keep moving forward. Does it ever happen to you that you think, ah, tandem flying, if you do it so regularly... and if you say it's practically a job, that it sometimes becomes too much for you?
So we take those breaks for that. That's why competition flying is quite good. I had the two Corona years where I didn't fly any competitions. And the idea was actually that if the weather is good enough, we'd go cross-country flying and take the time. But that didn't work at all, because you know a good cross-country day one or two days in advance. And by then, the calendar is already full with tandem flying. And that didn't work at all. So I practically didn't do a single cross-country flight. But with competition flying, I know, okay, the date is here and there. I block that out and then I just don't accept any other appointments. And those are the breaks I take during tandem flying.
And that's also good, because then it doesn't become too much. Then it's not a job, it just continues to be fun. Mhm. And I think if I were to do nothing but tandem flying all summer,
Yeah, then it could probably become too much. But with these breaks, it's good.
How long do you need, if you've been flying a lot of tandem? And then you say, okay, now I'm switching back and flying my competition glider again. How long do you need to switch over to this other way of controlling, but also the other way of thinking, the other way of flying?
Yes, that's a good question. Well, it didn't used to be that hard for me. Now, after not flying any competitions for two years, I noticed last year when I started again that the transition took time, and I don't think it's even fully complete yet. So, at the beginning of last year, I first had to find my bearings. Ah, so this is how a competition glider flies again. Interesting. And it actually took the whole season. So by the end, I really thought, okay, now it could actually start. But then the season was over. Yeah, so I'd say this switching over. If I fly again now, with my glider, I'd say the first flight is just getting used to it again, and by the second or third flight, it's already at the point where I say, okay, it fits with the glider now and I can actually fly competitions.
What do you fly as a competition glider?
Currently in C02.
Happy with that?
Yes, very much.
When you go to these competitions, what are you most afraid of?
Most afraid? Or
do you even get scared when you go to competitions?
So, the most fear.
So when I go to competitions, I'm not afraid. It's not the competition itself that gives me respect, but sometimes the weather conditions. And I make sure to stay within my limits. And if I realize that the weather is no longer flyable for me, that it's not right for me anymore, then I also land or don't start at all. That was also last year at the Palz above. There was a day where, from my perspective, there was simply way too much wind at the launch site. And I didn't know the flight area at all. And in the Palz, there are many valleys like that, and I thought to myself, I don't know what the wind system is like down in the valley. And I said, no, I'm not starting there.
And I just didn't take off at all one day.
Does it happen to you that in the evening you think, "Ah, maybe I should have flown after all," when you see that others flew just fine? Or can you be satisfied with your decision and say, "I made my decision for myself and it's fine like that"?
Well, to be honest, it does come up sometimes. I think it happens to everyone when you've made decisions like that and then find out later that the others flew great and it wasn't a problem at all. But by now, I'm at the point where I can say, no, I made the decision and it's okay for me. At that time, it just didn't feel right for me, and that's fine. And usually, based on experience, they were good decisions. I can still remember other flights where I didn't take off and the others did, and often the pilots would say, yeah, actually it wasn't a good flight, it was turbulent, or they got scared in the air. So in hindsight, they were usually good decisions. And I tell myself, I'd rather be annoyed once about a flight I didn't do and think, yeah, maybe I could have made it, than maybe being in the air and wondering if I'd rather be on the ground.
I think that's the worse-case scenario.
Have you ever had any bad experiences that led you to say, hey, I need to pay much closer attention to what works for me?
Actually, from the very beginning, yes. I mean, I once took part in a competition, but I hadn't flown in competitions before. That was in Germany. That was in Slovenia. And they started a competition there even though it was storming outside. I mean, it was really thundering, the clouds were building up, and they started the competition. And then everyone landed safely from the competition.
And in another flight area, where the task actually would have gone, a pilot actually died in a fatal accident, they said. But we said, yeah, he wasn't in the competition. Yeah, but. But it was actually luck, I'd say.
Same day, same route, same conditions.
Exactly, but it was lucky that no one from the competition crashed. Yes, and then they did it again the following day. It thundered again too. They started the day again and then, in fact, two or three of them actually crashed. So, injured—not dead, but injured. And that's when I noticed that in competition, you simply have to decide for yourself: is it okay or is it not? Because even if 100 others keep flying, 100 pilots can be wrong too. Especially with the group dynamics. It can happen time and again that you just get swept along, and you just have to constantly reflect: is it still okay for me or is it not? And if I make the decision for myself, no, it's not okay for me anymore, then I go land or don't take off at all.
How do you become a reflective pilot?
Yes, you have to constantly remind yourself that there is this group dynamic, that these processes simply exist.
And you also have to constantly question yourself and see, okay, does it fit, does it not fit? Would I fly again right now if I were flying free, yes or no? And you just have to take a few moments like that every now and then, like hit pause and say, okay, how is it right now, what is it like? And I also always say afterwards, I always do a five-point check. I go through my hand and say, thumbs up, what was good about that day, because every day there's something good, even if it was a bad day, something still went well. Then the index finger, like from the parents, watch out, what do I need to watch out for in the future? Then the middle finger, what do I want to do without in the future?
Then the ring finger, which is always for holding onto things, that's why we also wear wedding rings on the ring finger—so, what do I want to hold onto in the future? And the little finger, that's still allowed to keep developing, meaning, what did I learn from the flight? And if I do this after every flight—what was good, what do I need to watch out for, what do I want to give up, what do I want to hold onto, and what did I learn—then I automatically reflect on every flight and can then take away the good things and what I've learned.
Do you always find something on every flight where you can say you can fulfill all five points or fill them with content?
Yes, actually, I do.
What
is that something typical where you say, I want to hold onto that?
I want to hold onto that—when I've managed to stay calm while flying. To stay centered, to make my own decisions.
How often do you manage to do that?
Yeah, every now and then.
Well, sometimes not. I'm human too, even if I did study psychology, but I'm still, of course, a victim of my own emotions. I also get caught up in group dynamics, but I hope that I notice it faster than others might, and then I realize, "Okay, you're in thatlemming effect again, let's take a step back." But I do try to make my own decisions, and it doesn't always work, but it often does.
If you manage to do that perhaps a bit more often than others in the competition, even with this psychological background, would you say that's from an ambition standpoint or something? Is it an advantage or maybe a disadvantage when you sometimes think a bit too much?
So, overthinking is always a disadvantage. When it comes to flying, the best flights are when you just fly intuitively and are in the flow, without thinking about it too much. Those are the best flights. So, when you talk to pilots afterwards who flew very well to the target and had a real run, they often didn't really think about it at all; it just happened, and they trusted their gut feeling, and it just went well, and they didn't think much about it.
How do you get into the flow?
By being focused, in any case, on what needs to be done, so focused on the task, on being present with yourself.
and has a goal. One that challenges you, but doesn't overwhelm you. That's always kind of the thing.
And yeah, actually the main idea, I think, is that you're focused on the here and now. And the moment your thoughts wander or you focus too much on the others, that's the moment you're actually out of the flow again.
Are there any psychological or mental techniques to get back into the flow? Like, if I notice I'm flying and realize I'm somehow unfocused or not really present. Is there anything where you can say, how do I get myself back, how do I get closer to myself again? How do I get back into the now or something? Just some basic tips or techniques, whatever, like saying breathe three times, or look forward for five minutes or something, I don't know. Maybe there are some great tips where you can also say that it works for most people, also because it somehow triggers a physical function.
Yes, so in the moment where I'm in my body, I'm in the here and now, because I can only feel my body in the here and now. So with my thoughts, I'm more in the future or in the past. But as soon as I focus on my body and feel my body, I'm definitely in the here and now, because I can only feel my body in the now. And what I like to do is a cross-check. That's something that simply anchors me again. And a cross-check goes like this, it's actually quite simple: first, I focus on something internal, for me it's my shoulders, then I pull my shoulders up, take a deep breath in and out, and then I relax in the harness. It's also always good to be relaxed in the harness. Then I look at my cockpit. I used to have some stickers on it, sometimes even "breathe," because when I'm so tense, I also forget to breathe.
Currently, I don't have anything on it, but I still look at my cockpit. And then I take a look around me and practically scan the surroundings. That way, I've basically interrupted my thoughts and am back in the here and now for a moment. And the advantage is, I've also applied this after maneuvers where the focus narrowed and I'd think, oh god, it's going down right now, I have to land right now. And then I do this cross-check, and it's actually happened to me before that I'd completely overlooked a whole pod of 15 pilots. And then, after I'd looked around once, I saw, oh,
there are others,
that even increase. Then I'll just fly to them. Exactly. And I had completely tuned them out before. And the cross-check just helps to break that cycle of thoughts and have an open perspective again.
And for a cross-check, would you say that's 10 minutes, 10 seconds? How long does something like that take?
So once you've practiced it, it takes two seconds.
So, quickly pull your shoulders up.
Shoulders up, breathe in, breathe out, relax, look at the cockpit, once all around. If I do this quickly, it goes very fast. And
if it doesn't work the first time, you just do it again? Then
I can do it again and exactly.
You studied psychology, you said. Did you have that vision from the beginning, while you were studying psychology, that you wanted to somehow combine that with sports, with paragliding and stuff in that direction?
Yes, because for me, it was actually the case that I first did a mental coach and business coach training. And I had an accident with the paraglider during the mental coach training. And the mental training helped me extremely to process this situation, I mean this experience. And that I could fly more relaxed again. And then I also started offering mental training for paraglider pilots. But then more and more psychological topics came up. Other topics came up too. I then offered that for self-employed people as well. And then I met a friend who said she was studying psychology at the Fernuni Hagen. Then I got my ears perked up. And I thought, okay, Fernuni, I don't have to move.
That sounds really exciting. I looked into it and enrolled right away. And then I started psychology for the next winter semester. That means
flying during the day, studying in the evening, something like that?
Something like that, yeah.
If you're still working as a mental coach for pilots, what does that look like? Is it mainly group work or is it already mostly individual work, where you say you have the individual pilots coming to you and then you work with them?
So, currently I'm actually doing more individual work. But I also do group programs. I actually started out with group programs originally.
Yes, and then with Corona, I also offered it online. And right now, I mainly have a few one-on-one coachings. But I do want to offer group programs again. Because I think groups actually have a big advantage, because I can simply learn from the others too. The others have similar problems. First of all, I realize that I'm not alone, but that others feel the same way. And the second thing is, I can simply benefit from the others' ideas too. So, I think group programs are great.
Maybe especially with things like that, where you say, basically paragliding, what people experience or what it's like, what medium they're exposing themselves to. And the feeling you expose yourself to won't be the same for everyone, but it will be very similar. That you say, the setting is similar and you can very quickly talk about the same thing.
Yes, exactly.
Regarding the questions that come up. Or let's stick to the individual coaching sessions. Are there typical themes where you'd say 60% or 70% or whatever, of my coaching sessions always revolve around that?
So many people come to me with fears and insecurities and want to get rid of the fear. And then I always have to disappoint them. I always have to say that getting rid of the fear, well, it doesn't work like that. There's no magic wand that just goes poof and it's gone. Instead, the fear, I'd say, is something that accompanies us, something that is also part of paragliding. And something that belongs somewhere. Because we are simply in an element that is invisible. And because of that, we simply have a lot of uncertainties. And then the fear will keep popping up. It will keep coming back and saying, "Yeah, watch out, it could be this or that or the other."
And I'd say those are thoughts produced by our mind. I have no idea where they come from. Our mind just produces them. And ultimately, our mind is like a good friend who wants to protect us. And sometimes our good friend overdoes it and sends some kind of horror scenarios, like us crashing or something. And that is our brain's job, to protect us. And I always say, it's like a yield sign or a stop sign on the road. But I can then decide what to do with it. So, if I'm driving up to the yield sign now, yes, I can look left and right. If no car is coming, then I drive out.
But I'm like, "Watch out, it could get dangerous." I take a look first, and if everything's good, I keep going. It's the same with our thoughts. So, a fear that arises is directed toward the future. It's usually nothing that's real right now, but rather something directed toward the future that might happen to us. And our mind says, "Hey, watch out, look around again. Is everything really okay?" And then I check. Okay, the wind is fine, the conditions are fine, the glider is open, everything's good. Yeah, then I keep going.
Or, hey, look over there, the clouds are getting a bit gray or dark. So the weather is changing right now. The wind also looks like it's picking up. It could really be dangerous. Okay, then I go down to land. Then I thank my fear, I say thanks for sending me these signals and for saving me from being stupid. Then I go down to land. Or if I say, no, that's just something unreal, it doesn't fit at all. Yeah, then I keep flying, even though the signals were sent.
When you look at the fears people describe to you, where do you think they come from? Would you say that, especially with paragliders, it's like a primal fear many of us have because we're entering a medium that's so invisible and where we don't actually belong? Or is it for many also a fear that's perhaps more of a kind of traumatic fear, where they had a bad experience? With whatever it was. It could have turned out perfectly fine. But for some, it can already be a trauma. The glider collapses once properly, really tosses them around. They get shaken up once, don't know where they are for ten seconds. The glider flies again afterwards, but after that, they can't do it anymore. Then they're frozen in fear or something like that. What would you say predominates more with your—I'll call them clients for now—customers?
Are these traumatic fears or more like primal fears that are swirling around there?
So I think it's about fifty-fifty. I mean, whatever happens, the need for safety is always there. For example, physical integrity—that I stay healthy and survive the flight well. And the need for safety is simply the basic need that's always resonating. And if someone had a bad experience, like you say, a shock. Sometimes for a beginner, a bigger collapse can be enough. And if that was just very impactful, then it's a shock that sits deep.
And others might have actually had a tree landing or something. And then it's only natural, I'd say, that I'm afraid afterwards. I mean, if I weren't afraid after that, then something would be wrong with my organism. Because if I had a bad experience, one that maybe even hurt or where I was injured, then it's completely normal for the organism to keep pulling out that "caution" sign and saying, hey, watch out, you're in a similar situation again. Like back then, when it didn't end well. Watch out so that doesn't happen to you again. And that's the fear in the end. But I can still decide whether I listen to it or not. And if I know I naturally have this fear in me now, maybe due to a negative experience, then I have to check it more closely with my head.
Okay, how's the wind? How's the weather? Are the conditions really good for me or not? And if I find out, yeah, it fits, then I go flying even though I'm afraid.
Of these two types of fear we just discussed—traumatic fear and what I'm calling primal fear or something like that—is one of them easier to work on or get rid of? You can't get rid of it completely, but I mean, to make it bearable?
No, I don't think so. Both are difficult. It also depends on... well, I think yes, it's probably a bit harder if I've had a truly painful experience, then it's probably a bit more persistent. But fear—if someone is afraid, they're afraid, regardless of whether it's a primal fear or not.
And yes, and getting rid of it—as I said, getting rid of it doesn't work. The fear will probably always be there. It will keep coming back. It's just my decision what I do with it. And there are also people who are just more anxious by nature, by predisposition. I can't do much about that either, other than saying, okay, I accept the fear and still do what's important to me. And that's the decisive thing. What is important to me? That's why the question is, why do I paraglide at all? I should be able to answer that for myself. Why is it so important to me? Why should I go paragliding even though I'm afraid? Why should I do it? Because normally you say, if I'm afraid, if you're constantly afraid, then just leave it alone.
Unpleasant feelings don't necessarily limit your life. So just quit then. But I have to clarify the "why" for myself. Why do I want to do this? Why is it so important to me? When I think about it, like when I had that accident, I almost had panic attacks in the air. And it was almost clear to me then, okay, I'm quitting. But then I figured out the "why" for myself. And it was so important to me that I said, no, I'm doing it anyway, even if the fear comes along. I'm going flying regardless. And eventually, it gets better.
So, fear is also a matter of getting used to it?
Yeah. Or the
Dealing with the fear. It's not that the fear itself is a matter of getting used to it, but rather getting used to saying, okay, this is the situation that triggers my fear. But the body learns, now you've had the same situation ten times already without a bad outcome. Then push the fear away a little bit.
Yes, the body calms you down. And the interesting thing is, when I accept the fear—when I accept that I'm afraid—it doesn't get any bigger. The problem is when I fight against it. Like, if I notice, okay, I'm afraid, and then I say, no, I don't want to feel this. I'm pushing it away. It has to go. I have to suppress it. Then the fear gets bigger. Because pressure creates counter-pressure. And the more I try not to have something, the bigger it gets. So if I see someone who has to speak in front of people and they're turning red, and I tell them, don't you dare turn red. Do everything not to turn red. Then they'll turn bright red. And don't fly
into this tree. Exactly.
And that doesn't work. And that's why it's actually better to accept, okay, I'm scared right now. Okay, I'm having these and those thoughts. Okay, I'm having these and those physical reactions. My heart rate is going up. Okay, my knees are shaking. Aha, okay. And by making myself aware of that—which is basically a mindfulness practice—by making myself aware of, okay, what thoughts do I have? What physical reactions do I have? What impulses to act do I have? What emotional expression do I have? What's going on inside me? By making myself aware of it, this whole process slows down a bit. And then I can decide, okay, it's all there.
Interesting. And like a scientist, like, ah yes, these thoughts are triggering my knee to shake. Ah, interesting. And because of that, I'm already a bit more detached and can then also decide, okay, that's there, it's unpleasant, it's not going to kill me, and I'm going to keep flying anyway. I mean, we obviously have to make a distinction there. So, if someone's physical reactions also lead to tension partly. And if I'm too tense in the muscles, then of course I can't handle the glide foam well anymore. And compensate. And there, everyone can also listen to themselves, if it gets too intense and there are too many physical reactions, so I can also say, okay, right now it's just too much for me and I'm going to land now.
Because otherwise it gets dangerous if I eventually can't move or react anymore, which isn't useful in paragliding either.
Do you ever come across people where you'd actually say, "I'd prefer to advise you not to fly anymore," because you can tell that something is so deeply rooted or that you always end up in a state of aviation-related paralysis that is really dangerous for you? Where you'd actually say, for your own safety and well-being, you'd better not go up into the air anymore. Has something like that ever happened to you?
Well, at least not from my clients. When I notice that they have major fears, they're already being careful, like not flying in high thermal conditions. They stay within their comfort zone. And in those cases, it's actually more about looking at, okay, maybe test the comfort zone a bit and take one step further. But the trick there is not to take a giant leap; it's about baby steps. Because if I take a baby step, I step out of my comfort zone a little bit, which naturally brings some nervousness. But if I take a step that's too big, then panic can easily set in.
And panic is something we simply can't afford to have in the air.
I experience this sometimes—I often accompany club trips where you have all levels of pilots together. They're all at the launch site, and at the beginning, the conditions might still be thermically weak, and you could say it's actually better for the inexperienced ones to head out now. But then there are the anxious inexperienced ones who always say, "I'll wait and see, I'll watch how it goes first." And then that takes time, and you think, "You're waiting and watching for so long now that the conditions aren't actually good for you anymore; you're just gaining experience that might actually scare you more because the thermals are so strong by then that they're tossing you around or whatever."
Is there a tip on how to get people like that to say, "I'm confident enough to go now," just to avoid those worse situations?
Yes, so I should—that's a very important point, especially the more I stand and sit at the launch site watching the others, the greater the fear becomes. So it would make sense to start as quickly as possible, just so the fear doesn't have a chance to grow at all, because my thoughts just keep spinning and the more I think about it, the greater the fear becomes and it spreads more and more. And then on top of that, the conditions actually become more difficult. So it would make sense to really start early. And I can just tell them that. I mean, I can say, right now the conditions are great,
You want to have calm conditions, but if you wait for an hour, they won't be calm anymore. So my recommendation would be for you to take off now. Whether he does that or not is, of course, his decision.
Yeah, in my experience, it's often the case that people stand there thinking, okay, the good pilots are all still waiting. I might want to fly thermals too, even if I can't do it yet. And at the same time, I think for some it results in, oh, now all the good pilots are watching me take off from here with my insecurity, even though I rarely go flying. If I take off early, everyone else who's still waiting will already be up there, and they won't just be watching 10 of us, but 50 of us. Is there any tip on how to better deal with that kind of launch stress? Like that theater effect where you say, I have so many spectators. That's mainly what scares me, thinking that I'll embarrass myself or whatever it is.
Yes, I also experience this from time to time, where pilots are afraid they might embarrass themselves. And in those cases, I like to say, just think about how much you actually think about the other pilots. I mean, it's completely normal that when someone deploys a glider, everyone's eyes go towards it.
and watch it. But how much do we actually think about what's going on with them? I mean, realistically, we look and go, okay, that launch was good or that one was bad, and then maybe we see, okay, there was a collapse or I don't know what. But in the end, we register that and that's it. And then we think about something else entirely. And just as we think very little about others—whether it was a good launch or a bad launch, or whether they embarrassed themselves or not—the others are thinking about me in the exact same way. I mean, they do watch, that's just a reflex, a physical reflex that gets triggered, but the thoughts they have about us are ultimately minimal.
So we can just assume that they aren't actually thinking anything about it and we can be brave and go to the launch site. And I always say, I take on an upright posture. So if I have an upright posture, I feel completely different than if I go to the launch site a bit frightened, but just stand tall, stand upright, take on a posture like someone who is truly confident.
and then this posture practically affects my mood and my self-confidence. There's also this interesting study by Amy Cuddy; she looked into this "power pose"—so, arms up, feet shoulder-width apart, head up, and smiling—standing like that for about five minutes. She then put her subjects through a stress test, with two groups: one that had been in this power pose beforehand and a group that didn't have that instruction. They had to count backwards from 1,053 in steps of 13 in front of a committee and then present themselves, present themselves well. They found that those who had done the power pose beforehand were, of course, also nervous, but they made fewer mistakes while counting and were also able to present themselves better.
...who didn't do the starfish pose, and that's the proof that posture actually affects how we feel and what kind of performance we're actually able to deliver.
So, with this tip, we'll soon see more people with starfish posture at the launch site. It's a quarter past now, I think we need to take a break. Okay. But until then, thanks already.
Yes, I do.
Let's get to part 2 of this podcast. It's part 2 because we're currently in Sauerland at a competition, the NRW Cup. It's raining outside and there was a briefing in between that we had to attend, to listen to this briefing, so that we could now have time to continue the podcast, because it's still raining. Do you like rain?
Oh, sometimes it's quite nice.
When flying?
No, not while flying, of course. But sometimes a rainy day is quite nice because you can just relax with a clear conscience.
How do you relax best?
Oh, I love the sauna most. Actually, when it's nice and warm, yeah.
I believe there's a thermal bath in Ohlsberg. You could drive there for the sauna today, if they cancel later, instead of still hoping that the sun will somehow come out here or at least that the rain stops and you can somehow still make it to Stüppel, the next launch site.
Yeah, assuming we can get out of here.
Yeah, the front is paved, so it's not as muddy, and the retrieve buses are parked up front; they don't drive back here onto the field where the bus is parked right now, where we're recording this.
Competition, waiting—that's something where many people say it's actually the worst part of competition, that you always have to wait so much. How do you experience that?
Yes, there are days where you have to wait a long time, and I don't think anyone really likes that. At the beginning of a competition, it's quite nice because you meet the other pilots again and can exchange ideas with them, but if it's like two or three days, then, yeah, the waiting can get a bit long sometimes.
But socializing with the aviation community is also nice. Yeah. Do you still sometimes find yourself thinking, I can't listen to this aviation talk anymore?
So, no. I mean, like I said, if you're at a longer competition for, say, a week and it rains for the whole week, then it's also nice when it's finally over.
But otherwise, it's always nice to meet the other pilots and exchange ideas with them. That's also one reason why I like going to competitions, because you keep meeting people and it's sort of like a little community.
A flying family that forms there.
Yeah, exactly.
How openly do the pilots actually talk to each other about their feelings?
So, when I ask them, they're actually very open. I can still remember, I was once in Turkey for the World Cup and the conditions were really intense. It was very dry and also very high. It was in Eastern Anatolia, where the mountains are very, very high and dry, hot, and there was a lot of wind, so at times it was like a pressure cooker. I still remember one day I eventually said, I've had enough, I'm going to land now, it's too intense for me, and only one pilot flew to the finish, and I asked him afterwards if he wasn't scared and he told me, yes, he almost shit himself.
But he kept flying anyway because he was convinced he could handle the conditions and that it was okay for him. And I think that's the important thing: knowing what we can do and where our limits are. If the conditions just aren't enough for my abilities, then it's a good thing that I feel afraid and don't go flying. So, that's actually quite sensible.
Do we as pilots perhaps still talk too little about the feelings we have while flying? Many conversations are about the cool experiences or the cool way of describing it, like saying it was this and that, or I had a collapse, or it just swept me away, I don't know, what. But less about those nuances that surely resonate in every pilot's soul.
Yeah, that could be true. I mean, like I said, if I ask people about it directly, they do answer, but on their own, of course, very few people talk about that.
Why is it that coolness is usually what takes center stage, when in reality, there's so much to share with one another? Because what people experience is intense, and it's not just about being cool; it's about completely different emotions that you can just feel in the air.
And shared sorrow or shared joy—well, shared sorrow is half the sorrow and shared joy is usually double the joy. In fact, if people spoke more broadly about themselves and their experiences in the community, they could even top their own experiences.
Yes, that's right. But as for why people don't talk about their, let's say, negative emotions, I think it's simply because we all strive for recognition. And if I look at social media channels now, I mean, people only post about what they did well and what went great, and there's very little talk about failures. And when I look at pilots who are very, very successful, consistently successful, we always see, oh, how great and cool. But they've all had failures somewhere, too, shared. It's always just the good stuff that's presented. You always want to present yourself as well as possible; that's kind of a need we have, to always want to look good, and then the negative sides just don't get talked about as much.
Do you experience that, or to put it another way, how long have you actually been flying?
So, I started in 1994.
Okay, so you started way before social media, definitely. Yeah, exactly. Before this whole Facebook, Instagram bubble and all that came up. You've
have you experienced,
how pilots used to interact with each other back then, or what the hero stories were, or whatever? Have you experienced over time, with social media and this obsession with visual representation on Instagram and stuff like that, that something has changed in the way pilots experience their flying, or how they talk about it, or what they perceive as pressure, or whatever?
I can't say for sure. I didn't fly that much in my early days. I actually flew very little at the beginning because, well, I started at 16 and didn't have the money to have my own glider. I always borrowed a glider from the flight school. I only started flying a lot later on.
But yeah, it's possible. I mean, from what I'm seeing now, people post a lot about flying sites. So, what's happening is that many people post where they took off and the flying sites themselves. And because of that, these secret spots just get lost. For example, if I look at our area, there's a mountain where we used to fly, even though it wasn't really encouraged. But people flew there and they just didn't post about it.
And on Instagram or on XC, you see, okay, here was the launch site, and then you get the picture, oh cool. And then it's not five anymore, but suddenly 50. And that's just not tolerated by the residents or the areas anymore. And then, for example, in our area, a flight site has been completely lost. Which was never an
...official flight area, but just one known to the locals. You could hike up and fly down once in a while when the weather was nice. Exactly.
And now it's completely closed. I mean, you're just not allowed there anymore. And I'd say these secret spots are increasingly being lost because of posting on social media.
Do you still see any positive things in social media? Like for the pilot community? Yes. Also regarding the obsession with showing off or something like that—do you say that one can still take something positive from it?
Yeah, I mean, I also watch...
when I don't know my way around, for example, I've never been here in Sauerland, we naturally also looked around on YouTube to see if there's a video, and then we saw, well, it looks quite nice, it looks beautiful how you can fly here. Yes, we'll go there sometime. And I can just inform myself a bit beforehand and see what the landscape looks like. Or now, when I look at an XC, which didn't exist before. But in XC, I can also already see how flights are typically completed in these areas and just inform myself in advance. And of course, the exchange, so if I need a tip somewhere, I'll write in some glider group and say, hey, I'm flying there and over there, do you have a tip for me? And then usually something comes back.
And mostly very positive feedback, good tips.
Sometimes I get the impression, when you read what people are posting on Facebook, that some have even become really lazy. Like, they don't even try to Google something themselves and say, "I'll check out the websites," but they just throw it onto Facebook first and say, "Can someone give me a tip on this and that?" And then they wait, and there's always—I mean, it's friendly on one hand, but at the same time, I always wonder how many people actually let themselves be influenced by that and say, "Ah, that's so social, so I have to write something back or something."
And you can really let others steal your time in certain ways. Yeah,
I mean, that's social media in general—I can lose an insane amount of time there if I get lost in it, in the true sense of the word. So, when I'm active on social media, posting a lot and interacting with others, two hours can fly by like nothing. And I noticed that too; for a while, it annoyed me that I was losing so much time on social media, so I took a complete break and realized, oh, I can do without it too.
Yeah, and I think you just have to find a way for yourself that works for you. I mean, there are people who go all in and find it great. My online community is also a community where I can interact with others. But if I notice that it's not doing me any good, then I'm happy to step back and look for my contacts in real life instead. And I think the good thing about social media is that everyone can decide for themselves how active they want to be or not. But if you switch to the experience of stress or something, then you can also say, okay, it can cause a lot of stress, it can put pressure on me if I only ever see the great successes others are having.
But I have to consciously remind myself that this isn't real life; it's just the best version of oneself, and failures or mishaps are rarely posted—it's the ideal.
What I experience in our region or also in the club I'm in—where there are WhatsApp groups and stuff like that—people are always posting where they're flying or who's currently where. And now, a lot of flying is happening during the week too, because someone—either they're already retired or something, or someone always has time or a bit of home office and can work in the evenings or something, which wasn't the case before, or at least wasn't perceived that way because it didn't show up anywhere. And from what I gather, people who can't be that flexible end up developing almost more frustration because they see, "Ah, people are constantly going flying and I want to go too," and stuff like that. On one hand, that's a positive development because some people are encouraged a lot more to go flying, and flying a lot also contributes to your own safety and skill—so they get better themselves. But on the other hand, for those who can't go flying, it basically contributes to more frustration because they always see everyone else flying, only I never get around to it, and then I want to go sometime, and especially this spring is so shitty, it's always bad weather on the weekend and only Wednesday is good or something, and then you always see such great routes were flown on Wednesday, and then I want to go on the weekend and then nothing happens again.
How do you best deal with those moments of frustration?
I always say, look behind the scenes, because the people who always have time don't always have time; they just happened to have time right then, but otherwise they're working a lot or have other things, and they might also be giving something up. I know people in our circle who live really minimalist lives and therefore have a lot of time, because it always depends on what kind of standard of living I want to treat myself to. So, there are people who don't need much to live, and it's enough for them to just, let's say, have a side job and get by. But if I've decided for myself, no, I need a higher standard of living, I don't want to live so minimalist, then I work more and...
then I might not have time on Wednesday to enjoy the nice weather, and I always tell myself, everyone has to decide for themselves what's important in their life. Or if I have a family—I mean, kids need time, a partner needs time—and if my partner and my kids are important to me, then I should spend time with them and maybe skip a flight day because my family is more important to me at that moment. But if I say, okay, I'm putting flying above everything and making sure I have a minimalist lifestyle because flying simply means so much to me, then okay, I might have a lot of time to fly, but maybe little money to have a high standard of living, and I might also give up on a partner because they might not be able to go along with that.
and I can just keep asking myself, okay, what is really important to me in my life? Does flying really hold such a high priority that I have to go to every flight day, or are other things important to me in life as well?
How do you handle your work-life-fly balance?
So I do a lot of seminars on psychology in the winter, and in the summer I try to go flying as much as possible. That's my work-life balance.
Wouldn't it be more sensible from the customers' perspective to talk it through with them in the summer, when the experience they've just had and the events are actually fresh, instead of saying we'll work on it in the winter? All the fears you might have built up over the summer.
Yes, I do that in one-on-one coaching, and because of that—when I have pilots in one-on-one coaching now, they want to talk about it in rainy weather, not in sunshine. That fits really well. And we usually do that online in one-on-one coaching, so many of them don't live around my corner, but are further away, so we work together online. And I don't just work with paraglider pilots; I also go into companies and do seminars on psychological stress in the workplace and resilience. And those seminars, I do those more in the winter, during the winter months.
Regarding the people who come to you for mental training, are they already part of it, or not yet, but are they also sometimes really experienced pilots who are also great in competition, but who say, I want to get some mental coaching? Or is it more the less experienced ones who say, I have my moments of fear and that's why I hardly get into the air. Which isn't the case for them, even if they might also have their moments of fear.
So, both. I also have experienced pilots who come to me, competition pilots as well. And there are also some who are really inexperienced and struggling with their fears. I mean, mental training—I also have a sports psychology qualification, so it's not just about fears; it's also about goal setting, but it's also about increasing the ability to relax, it's about visualization, or then also increasing self-efficacy. That kind of stuff, exactly. So it's not just fears. Fears are one part of it.
That means the questions are different too. The competition pilots come to me more with things like, "How can I set my goals?" or "How can I focus on them?" or "How can I do this better?" Yes. Whereas maybe the beginner pilots—or beginners in quotation marks, meaning the less experienced ones—might come to me more with these primal fears or something like that.
Exactly. So that's often the case. And goal setting is always a very, very important topic because many people, especially in competition, in my view approach the situation far too much from a results-oriented perspective. I mean, sure, when I go to a competition, I want to have the best result possible. But it can't just be that; I should also make sure that I'm pursuing other goals, because if I only look at the result—and I mean, if I'm trying to get on the podium right now and there are 100 pilots starting, maybe 60 of those 100, let's say, are trying to get on the podium, but only three actually make it—then the probability of me getting frustrated is still relatively high. And I've experienced it in the World Cup too, where someone flew into the top 10 and wanted to burn their glider out of pure frustration because they weren't on the podium.
And that's what happens when I'm completely result-oriented. But if I also look at, okay, I'm looking at my process or technical improvement, or being calmer, improving my internal attitude, or being able to maintain my focus, and I've achieved that as a goal, then I can also be content with, let's say, a mediocre result.
to be satisfied if I've reached my other goals. And I'd say the result goal is something I can't influence at all, because I can perform the best flight of my life and still be only 20th or 50th if the others flew even better. In that case, it's much better to look at what internal attitude I have, or what attitude I need to achieve the best possible result, what skills I need, and to focus on that and perhaps improve my skills, my attitude, and my strategy.
You're always looking or comparing yourself based on performance. And performance in flying is either measured in competition by places, or by points, where one person has 1,000 and the other only has 970, or whatever. In cross-country flying, there are the XC points that you have in the DRV-XC or XContest and other things, and then you can say, oh, I only had 60 and the other person had 70, and oh, that's getting on my nerves again.
At the same time, people like to do that—maybe it's just human nature—to want to measure yourself against others. But if you reduce it only to those points, you're always only measuring yourself in that one dimension. And there are other things where you could say, for instance, the beauty of the flight or a really great flying style, where you could say the other person actually flies much more beautifully, more aesthetically, than I do, or something like that. Is there a way to find a measure for yourself there, too, to say—if you only want to compare—that you could say, okay, the other person might have flown 10 points more, but for me, this flight is worth so much more in comparison for a different reason.
Yeah, so in the end, it's about making myself consciously aware of why I go flying. That brings us back to the initial question: why did I start flying, or why do I go flying? Why is it so important to me? What are my values behind it, and what are my goals when I fly? And I can remember, when I started cross-country flying, it was just like you said—you compare yourself to others. I even picked out "comparison pilots" in XC who were roughly as good as I was, or so I estimated them to be. And I can still remember one flight where I managed to do something that had never worked before. I was so happy; it was a beautiful flight, and I was so proud of myself for pulling it off. Then I upload the flight to XC and see that one of my...
So, in the end, it's about making myself aware of why I go flying. That's why I'm going back to the initial question: why did I start flying, or why do I go flying? Why is it so important to me, what are my values behind it, and what are my goals in flying? And I can remember, when I started cross-country flying, it was just like you said—you compare yourself to others. I even picked out "comparison pilots" in XC who were about as good as I was, or so I judged them to be. And I can still remember one flight where I managed to do something that had never worked before. I was so happy, it was a beautiful flight, and I was so proud of myself for pulling it off, and then I upload the flight to XC and see that one of my...
What was it that worked out there?
To be honest, I don't even know. It was somehow a flight in our Allgäu region and somehow a valley crossing worked out really well. But I still remember how happy I was, and I can still remember the frustration of someone actually flying further. And that's just a shame because flying simply has so much, much more to it. And when I achieve something I hadn't reached before, I'm allowed to be happy about it. And I'd rather stay with myself and also in the competition. So if I managed to stay focused, stay with myself, fly my task the way I imagined it, and it works out, and someone else is just a bit faster at the finish, yeah, then I can be happy for the other person but I can still be happy about having a great flight.
How ambitious are you?
How ambitious am I? I have no idea, is there a scale for that?
You can define your own scale, but if you see yourself that way—I mean, there is a certain type of ambition. You could say there's the below-average one, someone who doesn't really care about performance at all, then there's the average one, and then maybe one where you'd say the ambition starts to get its negative sides, where you become really obsessed with it.
Exactly, so for me, it's just important that the joy comes first. And that's also, as I said, it has to be fun, it has to be enjoyable, it has to be a great experience, and the result at the end is, let's say, just the icing on the cake. So if a podium finish or something like that comes out of it, then it's great, it's on top, a great run, but if otherwise, let's say, it was good, I had a great flight, had nice experiences and I can be happy with myself, then it's also good.
Has it always been that way, or did you develop into that? Did you learn it?
I think, as I said, for a while I was already looking at results, even in XC, but I just realized that there's an enormous amount of frustration behind it, and that's also confirmed by science—it's just confirmed again. I learned that in my studies: that people who act extremely results-oriented or strive for results, for example, if you look at sports psychology, are the people who are more frustrated, mainly because they aren't always first or second. It's just part of the sport that I also lose, so to speak, and people who are very results-oriented have a lot of frustrating experiences.
and also tend to be more prone to taking doping measures—now, doping in paragliding, yes, I'm saying...
You could dope your glider—I mean, I think there are many pilots who say, "Ah, maybe I'll buy the Two-Liner-C after all, instead of just flying the Alpiner, because with that I might finally manage the next valley crossing that I haven't been able to do yet," and then supposedly have my moments of luck with it, even if I might fly so intensely that in the end, on average, I might go down for landing 20 minutes earlier because I say I'm exhausted or whatever.
Exactly, so I can engage in glider doping or whatever is considered right in competition, doping is cloud flying, where I just turn higher than I'm actually allowed to, and that's doping. And if I'm very results-oriented, then I tend to lean towards such measures, and the other orientation is process-oriented, where I just look at making sure that I...
or attitude-oriented, where I look to improve myself, to achieve a good result for myself, to have a good attitude in order to produce a good result, and those kinds of athletes are more like...
experience-oriented and are also less likely to resort to such doping measures, whether that's glider doping or cloud soaring or whatever. And I mean, regarding the gliders, I recently had a conversation with Kriegel Maurer and he described it very nicely; he said that 90% of the flight actually has to be under-challenging with his paraglider, and then he said about 7-8% is when he's challenged, and at most 1% of his flights might push him to his limits, but most of the time he has to be under-challenged with his paraglider to be able to deliver really good performance. So from that perspective, regarding glider doping—I also believe that when I fly a glider, the thermals challenge me the whole time. I mean, in calm conditions, many people can fly any glider, but it's also about whether I can still handle the glider when it's half thermal or turbulent, or if I get overwhelmed too quickly or
challenged, then my mental and physical resources are simply exhausted pretty quickly and I might not even make it to the goal that I might achieve with a lower-classified glider, or I just don't have any fun at all.
Let's move on to one last topic, because it's coming up again soon. You've actually participated in the X-Alps yourself. What appealed to you about taking on that challenge back then?
So I saw a video on YouTube about the X-Pyr and I actually thought it was very, very
challenging, an experience. So, the X-Pyr is a race from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean over the Pyrenees, and I just thought it was very beautiful and exciting, so I signed up for the X-Pyr. It went quite well and was incredibly fun because, especially through the Pyrenees, it was an unbelievable experience because the mountains are somehow completely different from the Alps. I only really noticed while in the air that there aren't any real valleys at all, but that they're kind of scattered all over the place and aren't like the wide valleys we have. On
In any case, no long valleys where you can fly lengthwise. Yeah, exactly. There are only cross-valleys.
But I had a lot of fun with it, and that's when I thought, okay, I could also take part in the X-Alps and
After that, I signed up for the X-Alps and it was also a very exciting experience, even before that, the preparations—I mean, we looked at the Brenner Alps and all the training beforehand. So that was already a very, very exciting time, even if the result in the end wasn't that good, it was still a great experience.
Looking back today, will you do some things differently?
Yeah, well for me, the gear didn't quite work out either. It would have been nice if the weather had been better so we could have tested it a bit more thoroughly beforehand.
But we can't influence the weather, so I can't change that, and if it had been that bad again, I wouldn't have been able to test it beforehand either. So, actually, it went quite well, as I said, what we missed was that I didn't take the Nightpass back then, but in the end, I was pretty exhausted on the last day too; I ran almost 100 kilometers and up three mountains, so I was already quite tired by the evening. If I had taken the Nightpass, I might have stayed in the race for maybe two more days, but then I probably would have dropped out because at some point the fatigue would have caught up with me, so it was fine the way it went.
I thought to myself, like, we went back to tandem flying right away because there were appointments and inquiries, and looking back, I thought, yeah, we actually could have gone to Monaco anyway, even outside of the race. I mean, we could have just kept going because everything was already organized, the car was there, and we had theoretically planned the time as well, and we could have just finished the race even if we weren't in it anymore.
Do you ever do some bivouac flying?
Yeah, well, I've participated in the Border Races a few times and we always have the idea of just doing it like that, but it's always a bit difficult with the organization—I just have to take the time for it somehow, because we often just have appointments. That's actually the main issue, that we lack a bit of time for it. But we also once planned it in Ecuador, to do the main competition first and then travel through the country sort of hike and fly style. But we weren't aware yet that in Ecuador, because the mountains are so high, the valley wind is very strong and actually cross-country flying in the Andes isn't really possible. Exactly, so from that perspective, we didn't do it there, but instead relied more on flying and taking the bus.
Which is also a good option in these countries at least, because in every little village there's still somehow a small bus that eventually drives up where you can get further. X-Alps 2023, who wins?
Phew, that's a tough one. I don't know. I'm really curious. I mean, I think my Kriegel-Mauder is always a favorite, definitely. Maybe he'll win again. But the others—I mean, if I look at Maxime Pinot, he's also very, very ambitious and is getting better and better physically. Yeah, Aaron is also motivated too, and I think it's going to be exciting.
And from a psychological perspective, who do you think is the mentally strongest pilot in the field?
So I do think Kriegel-Mauder is the mentally strongest, because just from his mindset—and he says it himself—he doesn't have to win anymore, because he's already won so much, he's already got that. And I believe,
Mentally, he's already the strongest. Like,
an elder statesman, slowly, who kind of floats above things, but still has so much experience and flies so well, and brings in so much experience that he can still say, okay, I can still keep an eye on the field.
Yes, and above all, he gives everything away. I find that totally fascinating about him. So if someone has a question and asks him, he says everything. He's very open about it, and he also has his X-Alps Academy where he passes on his knowledge. He says that actually makes him a better pilot himself, because he has to perceive things from a different perspective—how can I convey this to others?—and through that, he gets a new look at things again. He deals with that very openly and is committed to helping others get better. And because of that, I believe he's already the strongest in the field mentally.
When you were at the X-Alps, he was there too, and there's that preparation week. You grab someone like that and say, I mean, we're just before the competition, but I'm probably not really your competitor anyway. Do you have three more tips for me or something?
So I had actually spoken with him beforehand, even before I applied. We met in Serbia at a competition and I had already spoken with him there as well.
Yes, well, as I said, he's totally open and gives advice too. I think even the current newcomers—I saw in Bassano that he also spoke with the other X-Alps participants—and I believe they all exchanged ideas, asked questions, and just talked to each other. Like, "How do you do it?" "How do I do it?" And they exchanged information with each other.
Is there something like the most important tip you took away or learned from him?
Most important tip?
I don't really know. So, the most important tip.
Then I'll flip the question or put it a bit differently. From your experience doing the X-Alps, what's the most important tip you'd give to someone who wants to participate in races like that as well?
Make sure you have as much fun as possible. Just have a great experience, have fun, stay present, and enjoy the experience.
And just the setting of going to areas where you probably wouldn't dare to go on your own, wouldn't have the drive to go there and say, I'm going to try flying from there. So that's the adventure in it.
Just seek the adventure and enjoy every day.
Nice motto. Let's end it there. Enjoy every day. Yvonne, thank you so much for
your story.
Good luck with the NRW Cup here in Sauerland. Once the rain lets up. Tomorrow looks good. There will definitely be flying tomorrow. Then we'll see how far we get here. And otherwise, good luck with your little mental training job. winmental, if anyone is looking for it on the internet. winmental.de, I think, as the site. And otherwise, you also have your own blog at winmental, I mean, your own podcast, where you interview different people every now and then, including Kriegel Maurer, who hasn't been on with me yet, but he has already been on with you.
Of the episodes I've heard of yours, I actually found this one to be almost the most interesting so far, because you also got Kriegel to talk about a few other things that I hadn't heard him say in other places or hadn't read in other interviews yet. I found that very interesting. If you want to start with one of Yvonne's episodes, take this one with Kriegel; it's definitely worth listening to. And there are still some other very exciting episodes in there as well.
Thank you, Lucian. Thanks for the conversation.
You're very welcome.
That was Podz-Glidz episode 109 with mental coach Yvonne Date. In the show notes on the Gleitschirm-Blog Lu-Glidz, you'll find some additional links. Among others, to the worthwhile episode of Yvonne's winmental podcast with Kriegel Maurer. Podz-Glidz is the podcast of the Gleitschirm-Blog Lu-Glidz. My name is Lucian Haas. I am the producer of both offerings. If you enjoyed the episode and would like to hear more episodes of Podz-Glidz, then help out by becoming a supporter of my work. 1 Euro per podcast episode and 2 Euro per reading month on Lu-Glidz—that's my non-binding suggestion. That's less than a beer or a cappuccino, but even small amounts add up to a significant part in allowing me to continue running and developing this project in the future.
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By the way, I'm always looking for other interesting conversation partners with noteworthy stories from the cosmos of paragliding. Do you have a suggestion? Then tell me about them and, if possible, send over the contact details right away. Best sent via email to kontakt at gmail.com. Until next time. Don't fall from the sky. Ciao.