psychological battle

Every morning, after leaving my comfortable, warm, bed I get dressed, give my girls a good-morning hug ‘n kiss and then head over to the computer to see what’s happening in the world.  Typically I don’t make it past sifting through facebook as my attention dwindles fast (I’m not very lively and or attentive “early” in the morning).  However, this morning I came across a posting of Chris Sharma sending his long awaited project, “First Round, First Minute”–most likely his hardest climb to date.  This is a big deal.  Now, of course I’m totally stoked for him but the fact that he sent his route wasn’t what caught my attention in the posting, but more so the psychological battle he faced in the process.  I was intrigued by the interview on “Planet Mountain” , so I pulled out a can of redbull, slammed it, and thwarted on to read the entirety of the interview.  (The interview wasn’t that long, but my lack of energy in the morning needed a bit of a “kick start”…hence the redbull haha.)

Being caught in a psychological fight between yourself and a route can be physically and mentally demanding.  In past, with various routes, I’ve found myself in such battles, however this winter a specific route “trapped” me in the mother of all battles.  For me, it was the hardest route I’d faced to date.  And what made it more intimate, and some what immediate, is that I set the route.  For years I had stared at the potential line and finally, after training and gaining more experience the line I set was staged for its first ascent.

“It’s all about the difficult task of finding the right balance. When you climb a route at your maximum level you need to want it more than anything else in the world. But at the same time, this desire can keep you from succeeding. So you need to find the balance, let everything go, just climb for the pure joy of climbing, let things flow and try as hard as possible while not being concerned about the outcome. “

Chris’s words (above) hit home in a huge way.  With my route, “El Matador”, I was beginning to think it was out of my reach.  For several attempts I wasn’t progressing on the route, falling at or before my most successful “highpoint”.  A feeling of failure was setting in, and just about took over.  Reading through Chris’s interview, his perspective on his mental battle rang true with exactly what i went through.

“You were certain you could do it.
Yes, I knew back in 2009 I had the potential to climb it. But then a feeling crept in that perhaps I might not succeed after all. I was confronted with the feeling of failure, and in the process learnt that this wasn’t the most important thing after all.

Had you encountered this psychological block on other routes before?
I think I had it on Biographie. These experiences are interesting, you can learn a lot about yourself, about the psychological battle and although I’d already had this in the past, I found I had to relearn the lesson again.”

How far was I willing to go to send this route, dealing with things like weather, flooding (in  my case)?  Every minute that I wasn’t down there, in the canyon…attempting the route, it sometimes felt as though I was wasting time.  And when the weather started to turn for the worse (temperatures rising to above zero), I became desperate…panicking to find anyone who could belay me.  It was a weird place to be in, and some what of a reality check.  Climbing is fun.  Don’t get me wrong, there are times when it can become serious, whether in competition and or sending a project, but even then…it still needs to be fun.  I had lost myself in the route, in  a sense-forgetting why I was climbing it in the first place.  My mental state had forgotten all that I learned, knowing how to deal with various psychological battles.

Nearing the end of the season, coming to the realization that, “oh yeah…climbing is fun”, it was then, and then only that my mental state calmed down…soon after sending the route.  I had to let go of the pressures of sending to actually focus my energy on climbing.  I had to let go of all the “what if’s” to actually enjoy myself.

When facing a psychological battle, it’s no easy task to prevail.  Just remember…climbing is fun…no matter what level or situation your at or in.

Pink tape, blue tape, orange tape, green tape

Four years ago I built a climbing gym in my backyard.  It was constructed so that I could train at home (more often) as well as keep my sanity when the weather turned to crap.  Well for the last week the weather has been crap.  Snow, wind, rain…crap.  Currently I’m looking out my living room window and it’s puking snow.  It’s April and it’s snowing…a lot.

Recently I was dragging myself through the isles of Target whilst my wife shopped blissfully.  Trying to keep it together, suddenly my eyes honed in on a big shelf filled with colourful tape.  Pink, purple, yellow, green, orange, blue…the works.  My spirits were instantly lifted as i had found purpose in target, life in-fact was not ending (anymore) from boredom, but now inspired–I had found a rainbow of tape that could be used for new routes in the back yard gym.

Every few months I spend as much time needed to strip all the holds down in the backyard gym.  Hold by hold, with a makeshift allen wrench from MEC, they all get taken down and piled onto the stack of “used” mattresses–awaiting their new place and purpose.  I used to see this as a bit of a drag (as there’s a lot of holds to strip), however now as excitement and opportunity.  I’ve learned the value of new routes, how change is important…and with that has come motivation and inspiration.  In a climbing gym, there should be no “classics” that stay up for long periods of time.  Change-over allows for creative works.  A fresh canvas presents opportunity for imaginative and new movement.  The longer routes stay up, the more stagnant your movement becomes.

This spring, thus far, has not been good for rock climbing.  It’s been really cold, super windy, and above all else…it’s still snowing.  It seems as though a state of being caught in limbo can define my climbing currently.  For the most part, ice has melted and the rock is cold (plus rock climbing isn’t all that fun when the snow is blowing in your face).  So, the ol’ climbing gym in the backyard is where i’ve been spending most nights as of lately–training and setting new routes.  But what i’ve also  discovered is that there’s something peaceful about being in my backyard gym at night.  It’s quiet, calm, no wind, rain or snow.  It gives me time to think about whatever’s in my head–time alone to reflect on the day or dreams in pursuit, and it gives me time alone…did i mention that twice?

Hold after hold, positioning myself on my scary–rickety wooden ladder, I stripped the gym down to bare walls.  This time around, however, for some reason, I felt a little more of a “push” to set new routes.  I was actually more-so motivated than usual.  Maybe it was because I actually embraced the current weather conditions instead of complaining about them and tried to stay productive with my climbing regardless.  Maybe because life isn’t all that bad (despite the fact that it’s snowing harder outside right now) compared to those who are suffering in Japan.  Or maybe it’s because I actually like to train, to grow, to get better, and the gym offers a great opportunity for it with a little bit of work.  And why would i complain? I have a perfectly good place to still climb/train out of the current “crap” weather.  So this time around I was psyched and ready for setting new, challenging, boulder problems in my “little engine that could”, and after several nights’ work holds were stripped and re-set with new problems easy to hard.  Every minute i spent back there became one step closer to getting stronger in my climbing, I was able to see the good in what i was doing, vs. being pissed off about the weather.

Spending the last few nights in the gym I realized that there’s more important things in life to worry about, and to utilize the “moment” for good and to not waste energy on mindless out-of-my-control factors.  We only have “x” amount of energy to spend…so…spend it wisely, not frivolously.  That’s all.  Oh, and it’s still snowing…so i’m headin’ into the backyard gym again to flail around like a monkey…good thing i built this thing (I don’t think my wife thought i’d actually do it.  Was she ever wrong!).

The Petzl GriGri 2

Last April (2010), I attended the CWA conference (Climbing Wall association) in Boulder Colorado. I was in serious pursuit for as much information as possible for my new climbing gym project. By the end of the conference I was overwhelmed by truck loads of info, to the point where my brain felt as though it was going to burst. This was a good thing.

Throughout the entirety of the weekend, there was one specific moment that (later that summer) made me laugh. I specifically remember talking to my good buddy Tom Adams from Petzl during one of our “breaks” at the conference. I recall bringing up the topic of the Petzl Gri Gri and how they (Petzl) had to get on with designing a new device that worked better with smaller ropes. For at least 20 mins I peppered him with ideas, thoughts, concerns, etc. He, in his kind nature, humored me with sound answers; however giving no indication that something like that would be available any time soon.

In August of 2010, once again, I found myself in the middle of chaos at the Summer Outdoor Retailer Show, in Salt Lake City. Upon my arrival to the show I made my way to the Petzl booth. Right away, like a bug being drawn to the light, my attention was caught by a shiny new piece of gear. Instantly I burst out laughing (quite loudly in fact). And as I turned, there was my “good buddy” Tom Adams laughing behind me. Cheeky bugger. Petzl had actually been working on the Gri Gri 2 for some time, releasing it to the public eye at the summer OR show. All that I had asked Tom about months before was right there in front of me. It was smaller, lighter, allowing for narrower ropes, and had more control with the assisted braking design. Naturally I gave Tom a good shot to the shoulder for keeping such a secret from me.

The first time I put the GriGri 2 into action it took a bit of getting used to, mostly because of it’s size. It was like holding a baby hamster in your hand. But within the first few times of belaying with it, there was nothing more to think about. I naturally adjusted to its new size, and actually gained a bit more confidence when lowering my partner. My belaying had once again become second nature but with a few new perks. Everything was back to normal, except now I was holding a baby hamster instead of a rabbit.

I typically use the Petzl Fuse 9.4 rope when I’m redpointing (or close to), and the 9.8 Nomad when I’m “working” a route. With the old Gri Gri, both ropes fed beautifully (especially the 9.4 as it was a “bit” small for the gri gri). When I was first introduced to the new GriGri 2 I was concerned to how it would handle larger ropes (like the Nomad at 9.8 or the new Xion at 10.1) because the device was considerably smaller. But quickly that concern was replaced with confidence as the GriGri 2 fed a range of sizes with no hindrance whatsoever (I used the Fuse, 9.4, Nomad 9.8, and the Zephyr 10.3).

The ability to lower a climber smoothly off a route, with a GriGri, takes time and practice. Heck, it took me years to master this art, not jolting the climber to the ground. But with the new GriGri 2, the design that allows, “excellent control during the descent. One hand holds the rope and the other uses the handle to unlock the cam. The patented handle design allows a very gradual release of the rope. In combination with the strong braking action of the cam, it gives a great feeling of control when lowering a partner or rappelling.” This new feature is especially nice for those just starting out with a GriGri as it allows more fluidity (in the first few degrees of pulling back the lever–not opening the cam fully) when lowering your partner, as opposed to opening the cam right away (with the older grigri). A belayer’s confidence will certainly go up a lot quicker then usual…this is good.

The GriGri 2, in it’s new state, is optimal for ropes from 9.4mm to 10.3mm, however allowing for ropes as small as 8.9mm-feeding with total fluidity. With it being about 20% lighter, featuring a new progressive descent control system, like its predecessor, it will be the standard for many (more) years to come.

The Howitzer

For the past couple of months I’ve been thinking about how I can move faster in my climbing. Growing up i could run like the wind blows and was confident to dodge any bullet. I had fast reflexes…quick as a cat you could say. Obviously, as you get older you tend to slow down a bit and your body aches a lot more after doing something active. But regardless of my age or how my knees, back, and ankles feel , somewhere inside of me is a big ball of explosive energy, waiting to be unleashed.

With climbing, training, traveling, family, etc., there isn’t a lot of time in the day/week/month/year. Always trying to fit too much on my plate, there’s a lot i don’t get around to. And thus certain things don’t make the cut for what actually gets done. However, as of lately I’ve been motivated to search out various ways to jump-start the rockets within. I used to play a lot of badminton when i was younger. Now that game forces explosive movement, fast reflexes, left, right, forward, backward…a fantastic way to get your body used to moving fast. I’m going to start playing again. Tonight I went out to a friends annual birthday dodgeball match. No matter how old you are, that game always puts a smile on your face. The joy of unleashing a howitzer at someones head is like nothing else. For near 3 hours 20 of us were running full tilt, wheeling balls at each other and loving it. Tonight i was reminded that my body can move fast, that i have the ability to react quickly…I’ve done it before…many times. I just needed to go back to what i knew. It may seem silly, but a simple game like dodgeball gave me the confidence in my ability to move swiftly.

I stopped playing a lot of sports when I discovered my passion for climbing. As far as sports go now, all i can think about is climbing. Any spare time that’s presented to me…I’m going climbing. Now, in climbing there’s a lot of movement required, very specific movement. But I can feel that my body has slowed down within this style of movement. I’m no longer moving as fast as I once could. And just recently I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s perhaps because I’ve forgotten how to move fast. When i was younger it was second nature because i was always performing in sports that required explosive movement. I didn’t have to think about it back then. But now, now I have to really focus on telling myself to get my ass in gear. Even still, whether by me or people yelling at me…I still struggle to move fast (enough).

Playing dodge ball tonight reminded me of bein’ a kid again. My feet were fitted with readiness. I was agile, hostile, mobile. Now, despite the fact that i’m sitting here on the couch with swollen ankles, an ice pack on my shoulder, and a sore left knee, it felt amazing to move that quick again. I’m excited to get my body back into explosive shape. I really feel that by playing badminton, perhaps some tennis (when i was growing up, I thought tennis was going to be my future-man i loved that sport), even more dodgeball…that these sports will help remind my body how to move fast again. I’m also going to do some research on how to train explosive movement. I’m totally psyched on this. And whoever reads this…if you have any insight on training explosive movement…I would love to hear your thoughts.

In my climbing, I know what holds me back, and what i have to work on. Speed is one of them. Every day, every minute, as a Christian I need to renew my mind, trying not to conform to the patterns of this world, but to focus on God and all that he has for me. Super cool. In Climbing, I’ve realized that i need to utilize the same tactics. I’ve been taught so much that if i don’t continue to renew my mind with that knowledge, constantly performing/putting into action, I’ll forget certain things and inevitably under-perform. Just how I used to move quickly without having to even think about it. Stop moving quickly-start forgetting how to. Above are just thoughts; ideas that i’m exploring on how to get my body moving quick again. At the very least, I’m excited to brush off the dust on my racquets and start playing badminton and tennis again. Great for cardio, reflexes…and of course–fun.

(Funny, i was going to write about something totally different…but got off topic by the time i was through the first sentence. Obviously I needed to get those thoughts out.)

Inspiration

I sometimes catch myself wondering why I climb, or better yet, try to compete at a high level. Usually these “sometimes” occur when I’m in my backyard at night, training in -20, cursing the world because I’m outside, in the cold, freezing my nuts off, when every other sane person is inside, probably warm, under blankets in bed. The other day I was climbing some ice in a canyon near my house…it was -26. My big toe on my right foot is still numb (several days later). Why, why do i do this? What keeps me going?

Inspiration is often where motivation comes from. Take any “Guy” movie or a sports “true story” movie and typically by the end you’re all fired up. Even if you’re not a boxer, after watching a Rocky flick you’re ready to go toe to toe with any contender. We need inspiration to spark passion and excitement. Being inspired presents an opportunity for courage. It gives you the ability to take any dream and make it reality. Even if something seems impossible, being able to hone in on what inspires you, it will soon become inevitable.

With climbing, I’ve set certain goals…some of which are but mere dreams, and some that are quite possibly attainable. But you see, the dreams…I think it’s those goals that inspire me to keep going, to keep trying. Something inside of me keeps the fire lit. I’ve been “knocked down” several times and for some reason I get back up each time and go at it again. Long nights in the backyard, long days in the car, training as much as i can, compeiting all over the world, constantly learning, growing, trying to get better with time. Time, wow, so much time. My hands are numb, I can’t feel my toes, but staring up at that dagger of ice, hearing in my head, “I want you to get on any dagger of ice you can find, climb up it, around it, down it, fall off of it, get back on it…”, suddenly I lose track of time, but focused on what needs to get done. It doesn’t matter how much the weather sucks, or how bad my cold body feels, but only climbing that dagger…owning the weakness, staring at the fear and laughing. Something, or some things, have set in motion, certain inspirations that have sparked life into “but mere dreams”. What i used to think was impossible, now seems to be inevitable. A part of me is beginning to believe, that maybe there is a chance to concur such dreams.

When someone points out a weakness with how you’re performing (in any sport), you’re faced with a decision: Do you tell this person they’re full of sh%t, or do you swallow your pride and work on what it is that’s holding you back? Well, this is something I’ve been faced with quite a bit and let me tell you, it doesn’t get easier with time. It’s only because of inspiration, what’s inspired me, that I’ve been able to continue on this path. Every time i do something wrong, or screw up, it sucks. It really sucks. And after i’ve had my moment of “poor me”, I dig deep and try to re-focus on what inspires me. I try to get back to the routes of why I love climbing. I love it because there’s no end to it, because it enables me to grow…in the sport and in life. I love it because I’ve been inspired to try my hardest, no matter how many times i get “knocked down”, to get back up and keep fighting.

I went out the other day, -26 plus the wind. It didn’t matter…I still wanted to climb. I was inspired to work on a weakness. So I did. I was inspired to fight, to not give in to “good enough”, but to be better, to get better. You see, I wouldn’t have gone out if it hadn’t been for this “inspiration”. In fact, I probably wouldn’t be going after such an insane goal/dream of competing at a high level, thinking that at some point, that in a matter of time, I’ll be victorious. But what inspires me, the people that have vested time into helping me, that believe in me, the inspiration is what gives me all the courage in the world to step out, to lay it all on the line, and give it everything I’ve got. So yes, any dream you may have, you need to know that you have the ability to turn that dream into reality. If you find inspiration, in anything, grab ahold of it because that’s your ticket, that’s the secret ingredient to your victory. It doesn’t have to be a sport–in anything; life, school, family…whatever. But just knowing, believing, that what was once impossible is now only a matter of time. Don’t be “good enough”, find your inspiration and be greater then what you thought to be ever possible.

WG, thanks for the inspiration.

A day at the bull

We were down in the bull river canyon today. Climbing was good but it was super cold. Amongst all of it, we looked over at the waterfall and found ourselves captivated by a beautiful formation of ice…

Looking at your mental state, this is worth reading…

I’ve been working on the mental side of things for some time now. This blog posting by Will Gadd puts much of the “mental state” in perspective. It’s worth the read.

“There are no limits. There are plateaus, and you must not stay there; you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you.”
-Bruce Lee

more here…
http://gravsports.blogspot.com/2011/02/helmet-fire.html

Going beyond what is “an acceptable level of performance”

This was sent to me today by someone who has taken the time to push me, encouraging me to go beyond “an acceptable level of performance” Thanks Will G.

Written by Joshua Foer

“When people first learn to use a keyboard, they improve very quickly from sloppy single-finger pecking to careful two-handed typing, until eventually the fingers move effortlessly and the whole process becomes unconscious. At this point, most people’s typing skills stop progressing. They reach a plateau. If you think about it, it’s strange. We’ve always been told that practice makes perfect, and yet many people sit behind a keyboard for hours a day. So why don’t they just keeping getting better and better?

In the 1960s, the psychologists Paul Fitts and Michael Posner tried to answer this question by describing the three stages of acquiring a new skill. During the first phase, known as the cognitive phase, we intellectualize the task and discover new strategies to accomplish it more proficiently. During the second, the associative phase, we concentrate less, making fewer major errors, and become more efficient. Finally we reach what Fitts and Posner called the autonomous phase, when we’re as good as we need to be at the task and we basically run on autopilot. Most of the time that’s a good thing. The less we have to focus on the repetitive tasks of everyday life, the more we can concentrate on the stuff that really matters. You can actually see this phase shift take place in f.M.R.I.’s of subjects as they learn new tasks: the parts of the brain involved in conscious reasoning become less active, and other parts of the brain take over. You could call it the O.K. plateau.

Psychologists used to think that O.K. plateaus marked the upper bounds of innate ability. In his 1869 book “Hereditary Genius,” Sir Francis Galton argued that a person could improve at mental and physical activities until he hit a wall, which “he cannot by any education or exertion overpass.” In other words, the best we can do is simply the best we can do. But Ericsson and his colleagues have found over and over again that with the right kind of effort, that’s rarely the case. They believe that Galton’s wall often has much less to do with our innate limits than with what we consider an acceptable level of performance. They’ve found that top achievers typically follow the same general pattern. They develop strategies for keeping out of the autonomous stage by doing three things: focusing on their technique, staying goal-oriented and getting immediate feedback on their performance. Amateur musicians, for example, tend to spend their practice time playing music, whereas pros tend to work through tedious exercises or focus on difficult parts of pieces. Similarly, the best ice skaters spend more of their practice time trying jumps that they land less often, while lesser skaters work more on jumps they’ve already mastered. In other words, regular practice simply isn’t enough.

To improve, we have to be constantly pushing ourselves beyond where we think our limits lie and then pay attention to how and why we fail. ”

Written by Joshua Foer. The entire article can be found here…http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/02/20/magazine/mind-secrets.html

stuck on the side of the road

So, ironically enough, as we speak i’m sitting in a lineup, on the side of the road, waiting for “the gate” to open (roads closed from avalanches). You gotta love technology–internet tethering off my iphone, giving me access to the net on my lap top, on the side of the road. Cool.

Anyways, the ironic part is that i had a crap day climbing, and now i’ve been given time to process it all…on the side of the road (and not whilst driving which is prolly safer). So, today there was an indoor dry-tooling comp in Canmore, Alberta. I’ve been goin to this thing off and on for several years. Some bouts have been good, others not so good. Today was one of those “not so good” bouts. Everything about my climbing today wasn’t climbing. I’m trying to figure out/analyze why. Thoughts: my onsight ability is still not good. And most likely one of the biggest things that’s holding me back in competition. Every comp that involves onsight, more often then not i make some sort of poor decision and that’s when things don’t go well. Today, a route that is pretty “easy”, although still required a bit of power and thought, shut me down today. Give me a second go on it and it would be a “cruizer”. But right there is what’s causing me to fall short. On the fly, in “onsight mode” my brain…it’s as if it becomes scattered. I’m not thinking right, i’m making mistakes. I need to be in a place where I can move on terrain for the first time, and be settled, yet confident. I need to practice utilizing the movement patterns that are stored in my head on unseen terrain. It’s like part of me is scared. As i write this, someone who has vested a lot of time, workin’ with me (which i’m so greatful for), just texted me and said, “it’s your onsight, i told you it’s weak. Training isn’t climbing”. And he’s right. I’m not climbing enough/and or working on onsighting enough. But the weird thing is, is that in the past he’s told me other things that were weak, and…eventually when he finally got through to me, i was able to work on “those things”, and improve. But, for some reason, getting better at onsighting is just not getting through to me. Is it a mental aspect that goes deeper then to what i’m acknowledging? I mean, the ability to onsight does take a lot of mental toughness…and of course experience but i haven’t processed the total importance of that yet. Maybe until today actually. Once again, a comp didn’t go well.

It’s funny, in my past, by now i would have given up on this. I would have been like, “can’t be done…i’m over it”. But, i can’t let this go. I need to figure out why i’m having such a hard time with learning to onsight, as well as allowing myself the opportunity to get better at it. Even as we speak, there’s a little part of me that’s getting fired up to dig deeper (Huh, this is a good thing, that my mental state is kinda changin from, “I’m an idiot” to “ok, so…we gotta figure this out…and try to improve). Over the last few years the amount i’ve learned in climbing is totally wild. It seems as though it’s taking a bit longer then I would like however. Maybe i’m not paying enough attention off the bat? Is there a reason why it takes me two or three times for something to sink in (and for me to actually accept and comprehend it)? Who knows. And i guess that’s a little frustrating too…always hard when you see other competitors pick things up fast. Whatever, this is clearly becoming a bit whine fest so perhaps i should end this note now.

I need to spend a lot more time onsighting and climbing (in the winter)…and i think today made that a lot clearer. Other things are in better shape then before, but this, onsighting, is something i need to truly commit to working on…a lot. And as i think more about it, i really haven’t spent a lot of time onsight climbing. And even with climbing in general…this season, i’ve climbed lots, but…on projects (which there’s no onsight involved) and on familiar routes (which again, no onsighting involved). It looks as though this factor is the common denominator to more comps then not, and even in my climbing in general. For some reason i’m hesitant to onsight routes. Scared. Probably. Well this is just BS. I gotta get over this if i want to progress in the competitive realm.

I need to spend less time thinking on this, and more time climbing/onsighting new/unfamiliar routes.

Music

My brother in law and I came up with the radest playlist…and I gotta yell ya, kriss cross is gonna make ya…vanilla’s ice baby, the house is gonna make ya jump around…love it. Music gets me fired up before any comp. It helps me to relax, especially when I’m listening to ridiculous tunes from when I was 12. It’s about finding the fun in it all.