Between Chalk and Code: Lessons from Climbing and Cyber

Written by: Tiana Schwarz

When I first started climbing in 2020, I thought it would be all about strength. Grip tighter, pull harder, hang on longer. But the more I climbed, the more I realized that strength only gets you so far. What really matters is problem-solving, resilience, and community.

I’ve found the same thing in my work as a cyber test engineer. I graduated with a degree in Computer Science in 2023 and stepped into an industry where mistakes are costly, processes are rigid, and yet the only way to truly grow is to stumble, adapt, and keep trying. At first, the parallels between cybersecurity and climbing aren’t obvious: one happens in a secure facility, the other on walls with chalk dust in the air. But the longer I’ve lived in both worlds, the clearer it’s become: the rhythm is the same.

Risk is Everywhere, But So is Strategy

In cybersecurity, risk is quantified, managed, and reduced. We look for vulnerabilities, patch systems, and think through what-if scenarios long before they can become reality.

Climbers do the same thing every time they step on the wall. You weigh the odds: Will my foot slip? Do I commit to the crux? Falling is part of the equation, but just like in cyber, you make decisions not to eliminate risk entirely — that’s impossible — but to manage it wisely.

Problems, Puzzles, and Pressure

Climbers climb “problems.” Each problem is a puzzle of movement that forces you to test different solutions until you unlock the sequence that works for you.

In cyber, I face puzzles every day: A script that won’t run, a scan that fails, a test procedure that doesn’t pass the first time. None of these is solved by brute force. They’re solved by iteration: try, fail, learn, adjust. On the wall, we call it “beta.” At my desk, it’s troubleshooting. The language is different, but the process feels identical.

The Importance of Perspective

One of the hardest lessons climbing and cyber share is learning when to zoom out. On the wall, a single poorly timed move can shut down your whole attempt. In cybersecurity, a single overlooked setting can compromise the entire system.

But perspective isn’t just about mistakes: it’s also about adaptability. Sometimes a patch changes the attack surface overnight, and suddenly, the way you’ve always approached the problem doesn’t work. Sometimes a climbing partner shows you a tiny foothold you never noticed, and the impossible climb becomes manageable. Progress in both fields comes from being willing to see things differently.

Failure Is Data

In climbing, falling isn’t defeat — it’s information. Every slip tells you something about your body, your position, or your strategy. In fact, the best climbers I know are the ones who fall the most because they’re willing to test limits over and over again.

Cybersecurity is no different. Every failed scan, every broken script, every rejected procedure is data. Failure doesn’t mean you’re not capable — it means you’ve learned one more way that doesn’t work. Climbing and cyber reward those who can fail without letting failure define them.

Community Is the Real Safety Net

Nobody climbs alone. Whether it’s friends shouting advice from the mats or global communities sharing routes on Mountain Project and Kaya, climbing has always been about collective problem solving.

Cybersecurity thrives on the same thing. We share playbooks, frameworks like the NIST, and GitHub repositories full of tools. My own growth has come from teammates willing to share their lessons learned and from mentors who believed that knowledge is stronger when it’s passed on.

Why These Worlds Belong Together

At first, I thought climbing and cyber were just two separate pieces of my life. One was my career, the other my outlet, but I’ve realized that they are constantly teaching me how to be better at both. Climbing reminds me that resilience and creativity matter just as much as precision, and cyber reminds me that structure and systems thinking give shape to creativity.

And maybe most importantly, both remind me that being an outsider — whether as a woman in tech or a woman on the wall — doesn’t mean you don’t belong. It means your perspective is valuable, and sharing it makes the community stronger.

If I could give one piece of advice to anyone stepping into either space, it would be this: don’t fear failure, and don’t go it alone. In STEM as much as in climbing, failure is data — it’s how you learn where to go next. And mentorship and community are the real accelerators; surrounding yourself with people who are willing to share, guide, and sometimes fall alongside you is what makes growth sustainable.

Between chalk and code, the lessons are the same: risk is part of the process, failure is information, and growth comes from the courage to try again.