One thing I’ve found to be true in both climbing and in life is that confidence is everything. In the Rock Warrior’s Way, Arno Ilgner talks about how a big difference between the novice and the expert is that the expert expects to find a way, knowing that the climb is possible, while the novice carries a heavy load of doubt.
Generally speaking, I am a confident person. In fact, when my wife and I first met, she mistook this confidence for cockiness and I had to continually remind her of the difference (I’m still not sure she believes me). When it comes to climbing, however, confidence has been an elusive thing for me, in large part because of a history of small injuries. My body hasn’t always responded well to going “a muerte,” and trying hard can feel a bit like swimming in shark-infested waters. Maybe it’ll be OK, but maybe the great white will come up and bite my leg off! (or in my case, mostly my fingers)
Because that confidence has been so elusive for much of my climbing career, it’s incredibly euphoric when I find myself in those moments. To soar up a wall of stone, knowing it’s possible, knowing I have what it takes, this is what keeps me coming back to climbing. There were moments years ago when I tried several times to walk away from it all. I got tired of figuring out why my body did what it did, why I couldn’t just climb hard like others. One particular incident at Smith Rock had me ready to sell all my gear after getting bouted on a supposedly easy but crimpy climb. Thankfully, I’ve come to accept that this is part of my journey, and it’s certainly made me appreciate my successes all the more.
To be confident, to feel strong, to me is to be free. Free to try whatever I can dream up, challenges I may have walked by before become a question rather than a dismissal. In those moments, when I’m confidently moving up stone that I know at one time had been challenging, when the sun is shining, when I’m climbing like I know I can, the joy is almost tangible.
I’ve got almost 30 years invested in climbing at this point, and I love it now probably more than ever, in no small part because of how hard I’ve had to work for it. And each little success continues to slowly but surely build my confidence, both in climbing and in life.
Hayden Carpenter and Tom Bohanon recently repeated an obscure ice climb on the south side of Mt Sopris. Given a brief mention in Jack Robert’s ice guide, Bulldog Creek Walk is described as being 100 meters of WI 4. What they found was seven pitches of ice in a remote setting that makes for one […]
Very well said and written 🙂
Bj,
What a great perspective. My confidence is what holds me back. I’ll try to look at that way on my next climb.