Befriending Failure

I’m not very good at not being good at things. I don’t think I’m unique in this sentiment. It’s human nature to gravitate toward enjoyable experiences, and if you’re anything like me, the most enjoyable experiences are ones in which I feel I’m excelling. It simply feels good to be good at something - anything, really.

That’s why I find it hard at times to pick up a new hobby or learn a new skill. You have to get through that beginner phase of not being very good at what you’re doing. The phase where what you’re doing or making doesn’t quite match up with the experience you had in mind. Be it sports, art, music, or craftsmanship - most things require a lot of time and dedication before practicing the new thing becomes enjoyable.

Meanwhile, in other hobbies/skills, the opposite can be true. The beginning phase is where you experience the most progress and improvement. The process of learning can be enjoyable because the progression and development of the new skill happens rapidly and the reward keeps you motivated to stay dedicated to the practice.

The latter is true of my relationship with climbing. The first time I climbed was at a gym in Florida, of all places, and it’s safe to say I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. Although, I would argue, most times I still don’t know what I’m doing! I walked away from my initial experience knowing I had found something I loved. I didn’t put any pressure on myself to perform at a certain level because I was truly a beginner. I was just having fun! And man, did I have a lot of fun in that beginner phase.

As time progressed so did my skillset. I took a few movement classes to learn proper technique, climbed at the gym a few times a week, and even managed to get out on some real rocks from time to time. I was swiftly rewarded for my dedication - the grades I was able to climb were getting harder, I was feeling stronger, and my technique was improving as well.

Then it all seemed to fall apart… quite literally. This year at the beginning of the outdoor climbing season I took a couple of lead falls and my progress came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly I was questioning every move I made on the wall, both outside and in the gym. My fear and doubt became all-consuming and my love for the sport began to wane. I found myself repeatedly thinking, “Why am I doing this? Do I even like climbing anymore?!” Sooooo dramatic, but that’s the reality I faced every time I put my gear on and attempted to climb.

Thankfully, over the last few months I’ve improved my head space and finally feel like I’m coming out the other side. Thanks to the advice from many of my climbing friends, I’ve realized this isn’t a dead-end in my climbing journey, it’s simply a fork in the road. I can choose to let a few scary falls deter me from pursuing something I love, or I can embrace failure and use it as a learning opportunity. I’ve chosen the latter. I’m learning I can still have fun on easy stuff while regaining my confidence in climbing. I’m learning that in order to get back to where I was before the falls, I need to be consistent with my training. If I want to climb hard stuff, I have to climb hard stuff, even if that means only in the gym on top rope. This isn’t a set-back, it’s simply an opportunity to get back to the basics and strengthen my foundation so I can build upon the skills I need to move beyond this phase. Because let’s face it, if I truly want to continue climbing, chances are I’m going to continue to take falls, especially if I want to push myself outside of my comfort zone… which, news flash, is where the growth happens.

Climbing has brought me to beautiful places and has brought amazing people into my life. People who show up and support me, even when my relationship with climbing gets rocky (pun totally intended). It has shown me I’m capable of far more than I thought possible. It has taught me that I can work through uncomfortable feelings - fear, doubt, uncertainty, failure. It has given me the gift of achieving a flow state! It has helped me create unforgettable memories and everlasting friendships. It has brought me an immense amount of joy, even if that joy is occasionally interrupted by a burst of frustration expressed through a slew of curse words. I’m eternally grateful to have found this sport, these people, and to have been to all the amazing places climbing has taken me (both physically and metaphorically speaking). It’s safe to say my love of climbing isn’t going away anytime soon, so it’s best I start befriending failure as part of that relationship.