I’ve been thinking about climbing lately. This is not unusual. I’ve been thinking a lot of conflicting and probably not very interesting things about climbing. This is also not unusual. Since you asked, I thought I’d tell you about some of my… um… thoughts.
My wife, son, and I spent the Thanksgiving interval at her parent’s house in Massachusetts. We usually do a kind of grand tour of New England, but this year we stayed put in Mass for the whole four days. This put me within easy striking distance of Farley Ledge, home to a significant portion of New England’s best hard boulder problems. The temptation was too much, and I spent a day at Farley relying on the kindness of strangers (thanks, boulderers from Boston!) to sample some of the excellent stone.
Long story short: I failed to climb anything notable. But instead of walking away disappointed, I left feeling more excited about climbing than when I arrived. For some reason, my failure felt more like success than succeeding often does.
I've been trying to understand this feeling and what it reveals about why I climb (and maybe why I boulder, specifically). I'm also interested in how it interacts with some of my other motivations.
First, I think it's important to note that this was a particular kind of failure, a failing forward, failing towards success. What I mean is that, while I spent most of the day falling of two hard problems, I wasn't getting completely shut down. I made progress, and left the problems feeling like I was within shouting distance of topping out both. Proximity to success is motivating. Not really such a mystery.
[It also certainly appeals to my vanity to quickly make progress on double-digit problems, and climbing in front of new people probably boosts that appeal a bit. I don't experience this as a conscious process ("wouldn't it be cool to totally impress these random dudes, self? Yes it would!"), but I suspect it's there just under the surface.]
Here's what's weird about how appealing this kind of failure is: I might actually like it better than topping out hard problems. It's a bit hard to investigate this feeling because I haven't gotten to the top of anything truly near my limit in quite a while, but my memory of the feeling that closely follows a send is that it's somewhat bittersweet. There's a small rush of pride, tempered by a tiny bit of sadness that the process is over, and the blankness of not knowing what's next.
Not that sending a project is a bad feeling - not at all. Just that it's a mixed feeling. Failing toward success on the other hand is pure possibility - bright, shining potential. It also puts my "training" (read: random occasional sessions at the gym) efforts into sharper focus, gives them a purpose: get strong enough to send those specific problems.
Hm. I'm kind of disappointed that I just spent all that time working up to "the thrill of the chase, man!" as my motivation for personal progression in climbing. Oh well. I guess I can live with that.
Oh, and apologies for not "dropping" and "edit" from my session. I failed to capture any media at all. LT11 I ain't.
Add Post To:
Posts
5 comments:
Totally understandable feelings about "failing forward." The journey, rather than the destination, is the adventure.
Back when I bouldered I maxed out on the rare V7, but still, the chase was the rush. I've very seldom repeated hard sends; it's too much work without the lure of uncertainty and the succor of incremental progress.
Thanks for stopping by Little Bang Theory, and glad you liked the bouldering shots. Photography is now my only connection to hard climbing, but it's opened that door of learning wide once more!
Interesting to hear you say you rarely repeated your harder sends, because I actually enjoy repeating problems. Although I'm usually repeating stuff that's near my top level, but not right at the edge, I find it's an interesting way to check in with myself in terms of fitness, technique, and memory for moves. It definitely doesn't create the same feeling of urgency I get when I'm making progress on something new, but it's enjoyable in a different way.
Cheers!
Julian, I hear you. Repeats are indeed a good measure of one's state of readiness. But in my 50s I broke down, and hadn't the guns for repeats - as my tendon tears took their toll, I concentrated on once-in-a-lifetime sends. Not that they were so difficult as to be unrepeatable, but rather that I would only get one good shot at them.
I sent a lot of good stuff that way, even if most of it is now considered "moderate" at best.
Ah, the ever-shifting definition of "moderate!" Bites all but the world's elite eventually.
I too have been wrestling with my reasons for climbing. Last weekend I put in probably 40-50 burns on Appetite, and managed to progress a single move beyond my high point last season (or by my accounting, 3 half-moves). And yet I don't know if I've ever felt as fulfilled. I learned many small features of the problem, made somewhat steady progress, and dialed the first section into the ground. It was awesome to feel like I had the power to send on any one of those goes, though I still needed to decipher the body positions and hold beta.
I think I enjoy most the feeling of executing moves near my limit, and the challenge of refining the movement until it feels easier and easier. I love the feeling of weightlessness that accompanies a perfectly sussed climb, but I also like climbs that force me to try hard AND maintain perfect execution. Ideally a route/boulder problem would have both.
Post a Comment