Didn’t get to work on ASP this trip. The weather was kinda wet and the crimps were dripping wet. But I did work on more overhanging routes, things I didn’t touch on my last trip to Krabi.
I flashed Wake & Bake 7a+, a crack climb, technical route on the inside of Dum’s Kitchen and sent By Way of Deception 7b? just beside it. It was a 8m roof before I even got to the first clip, big fight for me there. Not too sure on the grades, but the effort was a 100%. Proud of these routes. :) worked on Phet Mak 7c? And almost sent it except for the last clip, where I had to throw on the overhang to a gaston pocket. Was tempted by this jap dude to do Voodoo Doll too. Haha. Proud to say I worked out on all the moves on my own. That’s what I love about natural lead. I’m fearless on rock, scared shitless on plastic. Pfft. I didn’t do Tidal Wave either. I don’t see the point of spending one whole day doing it, unlike someone. Now, really.
It’s a funny trip, this one. I didn’t even lead before this trip. Yet I wasn’t the one complaining about raw fingers and no endurance. Sheesh. But met a lot of new people, climbed with them too. Impressed them and maybe kept them going too. ;) I Slacklined, swam in the sea, walked to Railey, but didn’t jump through a hoop of fire. My nights were spent studying chord properties of a circle and proving congruent triangles.
Anyways, I’m usually the one trying to keep my feet stuck to the wall, but this trip, I’m like throwing and flying off the overhangs Iike nobody’s business. Definitely not in my comfort zone, but I worked on it. I do wish I had more strength to work on more powerful routes. My first tries are always good, but the subsequent send tries are horribly weak. Weak like no strength to pull. Urgh.
Damn it’s already December. Time is running out.
Can’t wait for February! We’re going to Toyota to boulder! (Yes! Where Toyotas come from!)
Climbing has become one of my strongest passions for so many reasons. Outside of the physical benefits of the sport, I feel that climbing has greatly improved my mental and emotional health. After some mild disappointment last weekend, I decided to explore the reasoning behind my disappointment, and my discovery was a bit deeper than I had originally anticipated. Disappointment is something I’ve struggled with a lot during this last year of climbing, and I just now realized how pointless it is. I think that disappointment is certainly normal for most people, especially in climbing, but I think the more important thing is the reason behind the disappointment. This weekend, I got on a route for the first time with high hopes of red pointing it. All the advice and encouraging words from fellow climbers had me convinced that it was within my reach. I was able to cruise the route up to the crux, which, for me, was a full-on, slightly overhung dead point pulling over a lip to a very slopey pinch (literally my two biggest weaknesses in terms of grip strength) just an inch out of my reach. After that was a dyno to the ledge and a jug haul to the chains. I tried the crux numerous times, sussing out the best beta, but the move continuously seemed just out of reach. Naturally I was pissed, and after a couple more tries, lowered off feeling somewhat defeated. Friends congratulated me on my flash attempt, but I couldn’t help but feel bummed about my performance. After throwing myself a mini pity party, it occurred to me that my feelings of disappointment were almost a knee-jerk reaction, like a conditioned response to falling short of my goals. I think it’s important to always ask yourself why you feel the way you do. When exploring the cause of your disappointment, ask yourself: Were you capable of making that move? Have you made that type of move before? Has it become one of your strengths? Have you been diligently training your weaknesses? Have you given it multiple attempts? If you answered no, then there’s really no logical reason to be disappointed. Sadly, we often toss logic out the window and let our emotions get the best of us. I definitely had no legitimate reason to be upset. I was unable to flash a route (which isn’t my strength), and I was unable to redpoint on my second try due to a very beta-intensive move. Big deal. If anything, I realized I should be psyched that the route only had one hard move for me, instead of 5 in a row. Now, I thought this was the end of the self-reflection, but as it turns out, I was wrong. Later in the week, I read an article in the Huffington Post about perfectionism and how it can ruin your life. As a textbook perfectionist, I decided to read the article. Never in my life have I felt so vulnerable and transparent as I did when I finished reading that article. With the exception of a few examples, that article nailed all of my fears, vices, and tendencies with terrifying accuracy. It was humbling, fascinating and inspirational, demonstrating how childhood experiences could have such lasting effects on the human psyche. Perfectionism is an attribute that begins developing very early in life. It can have positive effects on life, such as attention to detail, organization, and clear communication, but it often stems from negativity, a feeling that you’re not quite good enough for something. There’s a fine line between making excuses for your failures and cutting yourself some slack. When we excuse away our failures, we do our best to maintain the perfect façade that we spend so many years constructing. We hide our failures from others and only share our accomplishments, which only encourages us to continue questioning our self-worth. However, when we accept our shortcomings, allow them to be public, and understand that they are not truly failures, then we begin to instill a greater sense of self-worth and self-esteem. The bane of perfectionism is placing all of your self-worth in your achievements. Whether it be grades, sports, music, or relationships, we are completely conditioned to believe that we are defined by our achievements, but that is a complete lie. Our achievements can certainly shape who we are and who we want to be, but you are so much more than what you have achieved. I find this perfectionist tendency to be particularly common in professional climbers, whose performance determines their livelihood. It’s easy for us to look at some of the climbing legends and put them in a box, labeled, “Best Climber Ever,” but they are so much more than that. The professional climbers that we place on these high pedestals are also husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, spouses, and friends. To define them solely by their achievements would be ridiculous, so why do we do the same to ourselves? Even Jonathan Siegrist admits, “Climbing is a huge part of my world, but it’s not everything.” I think the sooner we give ourselves the permission to be imperfect, the happier we will be. When we stop relying on our achievements for happiness and realize that happiness is a choice we make every day, I believe that it will only get easier to get back up when we fall (especially if it’s on a rope because bouldering freaks me out). Even if you’re super successful in climbing and getting stronger by the day, I think it’s relieving to know that you are so much more than what you accomplish. Sarah Fullerton put it best when she said, “Climbing is my hobby; it is not who I am,” and that is exactly what I intend to remind myself as I continue on in my climbing adventures.
Heres an article that really speaks to me from my innermost perfectionist self. I dont consider myself professional just yet, but the need to train and climb as perfectly as possible stems from being a competitive athlete, from netball, to running, to climbing. And like all perfectionist, I dislike, utterly dislike failing. I’m glad I’m not the only one.
Recently I’ve been hit with a bout of disappointments and simply have no psych to drive myself. I enter into training with a heavy heart, a tired body and a mind that is not ready to push myself. I talked to several people, really, threw myself a pity party, and got some answers that I needed. It wasnt good to hear, but it was something I needed in order to get better.
The most important question were:
The answer was simple. I wanted to climb better, not just competition-better, but climber-better. Yes, I am training for The North Face Cup Japan 2014, but as of now, the World Cups seems less important than working hard on the outdoors. The amount of psych from the outdoors simply overflows and drives me more than competition. I dont want to just settle for the podiums in the local competitions - I want to hit higher. And this is what drives me right now. To be so so so much better. I dont want to be contented with Open Women podiums, I want to DARE to try the Open Mens. To really challenge myself. Out of all this, I want to really find out what it takes to be an athlete: character, wisdom, strength.
I truly have not been giving enough. Training wise, I’m doing the “usual”, not the “challenging”. I’m doing the “easy cos im strong” stuff, not the “shit I cant even hang for 5 seconds” stuff. Thats the real fact. The fact is that my training is not hard enough. I’ve been feeling dejected because I’ve been training almost everyday, but I dont feel strong, I dont climb strong - because I’ve been training the wrong things.
Well, as I type this, I think theres more to this than just the article and my current thoughts. Will take a small break and spend my time in Krabi rethinking this whole thing.
I wonder how those world cup climbers do it.
Just back from my first competition after a break, and I feel burnt out already. IOXC in jogja was really taxing physically, and I still feel it. Trying to kick start training again, but its hard.
I’m doing more competitions than climbing. The mental is crazy taxing man. Argh. I go to a gym and all I think about is how to train, what to do to get better. I forgot how to enjoy climbing. It seems like I cant, because training means draggin your ass to training even though you dont feel like it. Thats what I’ve been doing all my life. Thats how you get better. Thats the price and sacrifice you have to make.
Oh, but I am so ever tired. I dont want world cups anymore. I want grampians and font and to feel the wind in my hair on the edge of a cliff. I wanna bounce around the uneven ground and breathe hard walking up slopes. I wanna close my eyes and truly feel alone in this world, and then open them and find that I am truly alone in this wilderness.