Climbing Essay
By Dasha Zhadanovsky
Imagine climbing a hard core route; the hardest you’ve ever climbed or tried. You’re almost at the top and as you reach for a hold your foot slips. You grab the hold in an attempt to steady yourself and get your footing back. You can hear your belayer and friends screaming encouragements, but that doesn’t matter now. All that you see is the end of the route. All you feel is the adrenaline coursing through your veins. All you hear is your heavy breath as you continue to strain your muscles and push them to their limit. You feel the sweat pouring down your back. The coppery taste in your mouth tells you that somehow, during the course of the route, you’ve managed to bite your tongue but you don’t care. You have to finish.
You hear the faint echo of your friends trying to help you. They seem to be screaming “left!”, or maybe that’s “right!”. There’s a pounding in your ears that’s blocking out their help. You can do this by yourself, you don’t need their help. A heated battle rages inside of you; your body is begging you to give up and take the strain off of your muscles. Your brain and heart are telling you that you have come too far to give up. Two more moves and you’ll be finished. All of this thought happens within seconds; you are hyperaware of everything around you. You are calm and tranquil; you make a choice. One more try. You’re willing to take that leap of faith, to give it your all.
You strain your muscles towards the hold above you and hope that maybe your arm has grown an inch, maybe two. No such luck. You stand on your toes and reach for it again. You can feel your energy and power draining; your clinging to the wall like your life depends on it. In this moment your life does depend on it. You have spent maybe a year now working up your technique and muscles in order to finish this one climb. You can’t give up, not yet. You gather all the energy you have left and prepare to jump. Everything moves in slow motion. You crouch as much as you can. You shift your weight and then prepare to leap. Nothing matters but this; all you see is the wall and that dreaded move. Everything goes quiet and still. You jump and reach for the hold. You’re flying!
By some miracle you manage to get two fingers on it. You muscle your way up with your feet and find hold. You grip the handhold and manage to get another finger on it. Slowly you get every finger on it. You don’t want to rush or else you’ll fall. You know how things work with small holds like this. You’re barley breathing from desperation. One more move and you’ll be finished. Your body is screaming its protest. Your fingers are bleeding, your vision is clouded with sweat and exhaustion.
No, you tell yourself, you will not give up.
The next few minutes are a blur. The next thing you know you are at the top and screaming your lungs out. You made it. All of that hard work really paid off. You are glowing from the inside and you can’t mask your joy and pride. And why should you have to? YOU HAVE MADE IT. You are invincible You made it. You did it. The joy is overwhelming. You feel like your going to burst.