What Being a Better Climber Means to Me
One day driving home after an exhilarating day on the rock, my girlfriend and I got to talking about the nuances, joys, and peculiarities of rock climbing. We’re both driven, dedicated passionate climbers who don’t really climb “for fun.” Sure, climbing can be fun, but for us, climbing is a challenging process that demanding on our psyches.
My friend has been climbing a bit longer than me, but we’ve both been earnestly pushing ourselves on gear now for approximately the same time. We’re both committed to exploring our limits, physically and mentally and working towards bigger climbing objectives. As we were talking, my friend made a troubling statement.
This is what she said: “by next summer I’ll be even better, even stronger.”
What troubles me about this is that I don’t think this way. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to think this to myself or say this out loud, yet here she was, so matter-of-factly, with such conviction, and yet so casually: “I will be even better.”
Did she have a crystal ball? No. But she didn’t need one to know this. Someone such as herself, who climbs regularly and gradually tackles harder objectives, will emerge over time as a better climber, presumably able to send harder routes and meet her goals.
Well, one thing she has going for sure, is that she believes this; if you don’t at least believe you can do these things, the likelihood of it happening is diminished.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t born with as much confidence in myself. I seem to be missing the belief that if I have a goal and work towards it, I will achieve it. I usually have to cut through a lot of noise in my mind to feel confident. I’ve spent most of my life in utter self-doubt. I’m somehow different, worse, less than, somehow not able to do things that other people do. And often don’t even let myself try to reach higher in the first place. even try them oftentimes! This is not just true for me for climbing. This is a theme woven through my entire life (I can’t be a writer…I can’t lead others… I can’t travel… I can’t have/do what others have/do…)
She’ll flail on and flail on until she vanquishes her mind.
I can’t disregard the concept that as long as you keep climbing, you’ll become a better climber. This is generally true, yes, that the more experience you acquire, the more you will improve. Taking action is, in my experience, the most important aspect of improving at anything. You really can’t ‘think’ your way into improving much of anything worthwhile; you have to take action steps to get there. Many of the world’s best climbers endorse the idea that if you want to get better at climbing, you should just climb. It’s that simple, right? Maybe. But what kind of experience am I having when I climb? What if I am actually reinforcing negative behaviors when I climb? In the foreword to Arno Ilgner’s Rock Warrior’s Way, John Long intelligently offers a different conclusion, and articulates something I feel in my gut:
What’s the direct path to achieve your climbing goals? Climb longer and climb harder. It’s that simple, no? No. Transformation is a matter of practicing smarter, not simply harder. Practicing harder often results in the reinforcement of limiting habits. You’re just practicing the same old mistakes, and reaping the same old results. The direct path to mastery is seemingly indirect. Re-defining our notion of success could radically steepen the learning curve and transforming our abilities is very hard. We must dive deeply to find the pearls of existence, which always involves hard, sustained, conscious and disciplined effort. [paraphrased]
Unfortunately, for me, the truth is that no matter how many more routes I climb, if I continue to have the same experience climbing next season as I do now, I won’t be able consider myself a better climber, even if I’m attempting more difficult routes. While others won’t know, I will know in my mind if I barely made it the top, gripped out of my mind, fearfully placing a bad piece, taking an incredibly long time to finish the route, etc., telling myself in my mind “bad things” all the while.
While leading more difficult routes is important to me, mastery and transformation is more important. You’d think the two go hand in hand, but not all the time. In my sixth year of climbing, I could be having the same experience leading crux pitches in the alpine as I was leading a bolted 5.8 my first year climbing: I’ll take or fall just before the crux on my lead, psyching myself out, stressed, telling myself “I can’t”, throw away the send, give up the rest of my leads to my more competent partner, all the while wondering are we there yet!?, complete the route filled with regret, still feel like I need to actually climb it, and tell myself I’ll do better ‘next time.’
She can’t see the holds through the fog of her mind.
There’s little doubt I won’t be trying harder grades next summer, but my experience will be the same if I don’t address the way that I climb. And that matters to me more than any grade, and will always affect my satisfaction with my performance. I want to consistently climb well and confidently. If I ask myself at the end of the route if I really tried my hardest, and the answer is still no, then even if I am trying more demanding routes, I will not believe I am a better climber. I’ll still consider myself a timid climber who is simply trying harder stuff…which might even create enough cognitive dissonance to put me in a worse situation. (should I even be on this route!? this is above my ability! I don’t ‘belong’ here…)
When I quiet the chatter of the mind, I can hear my heart, and in my heart I am above all seeking nothing less than a transformational experience on the rock. Climbing is just another application, perhaps the most useful one I’ve found so far, for addressing weaknesses, examining habits and working through negative thoughts that want to hold me back.
The way you live your life is the way you will climb.