Thursday, February 25, 2016

COMFORT IS A VIRTUE (QUITTERS AREN'T LOSERS, YOUR LITTLE LEAGUE COACH LIED AND WAS PROBABLY MEAN)

During our discussion in class I really appreciated Struppa’s honesty in revealing why he climbs.  His hubris, his desire to prove himself and be seen as one of the greats, is something so hard to admit to others yet something so familiar to everyone in some realm of life.  We are not always the ones motivating our own actions, usually other people are involved, but that is something we don’t like to admit for various reasons.  We like control, especially when it comes to our own lives, and the idea that we allow others some control over the decisions we make can be upsetting at times although it is true.  Even if you are pushing yourself to be the best you there is, it’s important to ask who else is involved in the process and why exactly you are doing this.

High school lacrosse

As a freshman I had been recruited to play on Chapman’s Women’s Lacrosse Team.  However, quitting lacrosse taught me a lot about myself that I may have never learned if I had kept on playing until I was made to hate what had brought me so much joy before.
This weird pressure of always having to be the best, both self-induced and externally placed upon me, ended up being the worst for me.  So that is why I quit lacrosse last year: although it may have been an amazing experience I also know that I would have been insanely hard on myself and not actually enjoyed my time on the field.  Since I have quit playing sports competitively, my relationship to fitness in general has felt much more natural.  I work out because I want to feel good, not because I’m afraid that I’m not training hard enough for my coach or my teammates.  My personal fitness has actually become personal for once.  In addition to this, I respect my own limits a lot more than I used to because I'm able to recognize that sometimes quitting can be a completely valid option.  Now that there isn’t as much external pressure I’m left to really assess how I’m feeling and respond appropriately.
 
Photo from Joshua Tree this past fall, we bouldered to a really high point in between some rock formations (and hey look I'm calm because there are some nice sturdy/massive rocks below me)

I was a gymnast for six years, I’ve bouldered in Joshua Tree before and I hike regularly.  This being said, if you asked me to stand on the top rung of a ladder I probably wouldn’t be able to do it.  I mean of course I could physically do it, but mentally I would be very opposed.  Everyone has certain heights they can handle and certain heights they cannot (unless you’re like Bear Grylls or someone).  For me I need stability.  If I’m super high up but I’m also able to enjoy a wide surface area beneath my feet I could care less, but when that stability is taken away a fear of heights suddenly sets in.  Maybe it isn’t a fear of heights, but rather a fear of falling?  I feel like a fish out of water... like a Haley not on the ground anymore… not good.  When climbing the rock wall this happened to me. 

How uncomfortable I probably look when I'm up high without a stable surface beneath my feet
"Yeah, something doesn't feel right about this..."

The wall sort of divides in half, the first half and then one tough spot where you have to almost lean back to climb over a part that juts out and then the other half that is above that.  The first half was cake, I was having a great time, Drew was belaying for me and we were talking about Rihanna, what could have been better?  But then that small jut approached and I honestly was like, “How the hell???”  Not necessarily “how the hell do I do this?”, but rather, “how the hell do I do this comfortably?”  I’m kind of a small person and I felt like the gap between the climbing holds my hands were on and the climbing holds where they needed to be was fit for a longer person.  At this point I looked down which wasn’t the best idea.  In previous years I would have allowed the pressure of others to push me to ignore my own body and move up the wall rather than taking time to actually listen to myself.  Things have changed since then however, and instead I thought to myself, this has been fun, nothing is really going to happen whether I make it to the top or not and I’m feeling kind of uncomfortable right now, so I think it’s time to go down.
 

In retrospect I don’t feel bad or upset in any way about wanting to come down from the wall.  On the contrary, I actually feel motivated and like I could most definitely make it up the wall with a few more tries.  I just knew that I didn’t want to do it in that moment and I think that’s totally fine.  I have found value in listening to limits if it makes me feel better and letting go of pride since it is sort of a useless thing.  Reaching the top is not what defines a good climb, but rather the actual climb itself.  And for me, working to the top at my own pace is what will make it that much more enjoyable once I am able to reach it comfortably.

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