A Healing Climb
After undergoing breast-cancer treatment, Montvale’s Anyssa Lucena relied on rock climbing to feel strong. Now she helps other women do the same.
Founded in 2024, the nonprofit organization Genuine Climbing sends women who are recovering from cancer on free, four-day, rock-climbing retreats, most often in the Shawangunk Ridge area of New York (around New Paltz) but also occasionally to Colorado. Besides climbing, these retreats include quiet time in nature, yoga, acupuncture, farm-to-table food and the company of other cancer survivors. The program was founded by Montvale’s Anyssa Lucena, 55, after her own battle with breast cancer.
Lucena, a passionate climber and a professional instructor for more than a decade, has lived in Bergen for about 25 years. She has three kids, ages 21, 19 and 17.
How did you get started with rock climbing?
In my 20s, I went on a kayaking trip with Outward Bound [an outdoor education nonprofit], and it included rock climbing. I immediately thought, “Oh, I really like this.” When I got home, I found local climbing gyms and communities and learned how to do it properly. I got super into it. But I stopped a few months later because I got married and I had kids, and I had this impression that I couldn’t be a mom and also a rock climber.
What happened next?
I got divorced at 38. My kids were very young, and— well, my ex-husband and I get along great now, but at the time it was painful. I got back into rock climbing fast and hard, because it felt like the one thing I could do to stay connected to myself. It helped me process, and it gave me a community.
How did you found Genuine Climbing?
Four years ago, I felt a lump in my breast. It was only four months after I’d gotten a clean mammogram, and I was eating super-clean and training like crazy for the upcoming climbing season. I thought, “That can’t be good.” It wasn’t. I had a lumpectomy, radiation and endocrine therapy. The whole time I was worried— how was this going to affect my climbing? Rock climbing was my whole identity, in addition to my business. I kept asking, “Can I still climb?”
And you could?
Yes. Getting back to it was empowering and comforting. Any time I was scared or doubting myself, I would go climb and be reassured. I started thinking that there must be a ton of women out there experiencing the same things, completely lost and trying to process what the hell just happened to them.
What’s special about your program?
We create retreats for people who have never climbed before. Sometimes we get experienced climbers, but the majority aren’t. Rock climbing can be intimidating. Women often start the weekend feeling afraid. But our programs are easy and chill, and everyone is supportive. We cheer when someone climbs up the mountainside, we cheer when someone rappels down—which can be really scary! One of the things I hear most is “This trip transformed me.”
Why’s that? Speaking from experience?
Cancer is exhausting. The disease is hard on your body, and so are the treatments. There are hormone issues. Your family dynamic changes. Your relationships change. And the whole time you’re gritting your teeth and just getting through it. And then you go out to the woods, in nature—with other people who understand what you’ve been through. You finally get to exhale.
A special moment with a patron?
On our last retreat, a woman said, “When I was going through chemo and radiation, people kept telling me I was strong, but I didn’t feel strong. Coming here, conquering my fears and doing something I never thought I’d be able to do made me feel strong.”
A challenge?
Funding, like any nonprofit. But our fundraising events have gone very well. We do a fashion show in Franklin Lakes at the Indian Trail Club every March that’s been a hit. Cancer survivors model the clothes.
Your favorite part of climbing?
You need to be focused and in the moment. It’s just you, the cliff and your next move. The rest of the chaos just falls away.
Best view in Bergen?
The blue trail [Ridge Loop Trail] at Ramapo Reservation!
Something that’s stuck with you?
When I was sick, a friend who is also a climbing guide showed up at my doorstep with a dozen quarts of homemade chicken soup. He didn’t call ahead, didn’t ask, just showed up with his daughter and the soup. It still makes me tear up. That’s what you need to do sometimes. Just show up with soup, a cup of coffee or an offer to rake the leaves. You know, a cancer diagnosis doesn’t need to define who you are, and the quickest way to prove that to yourself is go out and try something you’ve never done before. Remind yourself what you’re made of.
—Kirsten Meehan
