Everywhere I go, I carry my chalk bag with me. It's a small grey and white pouch (it could only fit 2 tennis balls inside) with an adjustable strap that fits around my waist; I wear it when I'm climbing. I climb at my local bouldering gym, 3 or 4 times a week, usually early in the morning, sometimes mid-afternoon if I'm meeting friends who are late risers. The chalk keeps my hands dry - I think balancing on your toes 13 feet off the ground without a rope would give anyone sweaty palms.
My chalk bag spends most of its life balled up at the bottom of my school bag; I carry it with me everywhere I go, as a reminder of what I'm capable of. The fear I have to overcome to climb those walls makes my other fears seem far more manageable.
I am afraid of lots of things: spiders, sickness, 'the future'. All young people are scared of 'the future'. At the very least we know it will be very very difficult. The edges of my vision get blurry if I think about it for too long; I feel the fear, and I cannot destroy it.
Sometimes, when I'm climbing, my foot holds on the wall will be thin, flat, and sharp, like the blade of a knife. The people who are firmly planted on the ground will always say 'trust your feet', and in those moments of trust you have to master your fear completely; don't expect it to disappear, but learn to be comfortable with it. Sometimes I enjoy the fear - I seek it out. I want to be afraid when I climb, I want to know that I can be afraid and still accomplish great things.
Nothing is more instinctual or exhilarating than the fear of falling.
My chalk bag spends most of its life balled up at the bottom of my school bag; I carry it with me everywhere I go, as a reminder of what I'm capable of. The fear I have to overcome to climb those walls makes my other fears seem far more manageable.
I am afraid of lots of things: spiders, sickness, 'the future'. All young people are scared of 'the future'. At the very least we know it will be very very difficult. The edges of my vision get blurry if I think about it for too long; I feel the fear, and I cannot destroy it.
Sometimes, when I'm climbing, my foot holds on the wall will be thin, flat, and sharp, like the blade of a knife. The people who are firmly planted on the ground will always say 'trust your feet', and in those moments of trust you have to master your fear completely; don't expect it to disappear, but learn to be comfortable with it. Sometimes I enjoy the fear - I seek it out. I want to be afraid when I climb, I want to know that I can be afraid and still accomplish great things.
Nothing is more instinctual or exhilarating than the fear of falling.
