Mistakes at the Gym

The art of making mistakes is what rock climbing is all about. I'm not talking about 'death' mistakes, like not tying a stopper knot at the end of the rope, but the more subtle mental and physiological mistakes we often overlook because of the 'send.' Tonight was one of the worst of my short lived climbing... career is the wrong word. Infatuation. Here's a bit of background: I'm in my late twenties, floundering through life, enjoying the legality of certain accoutrements too often, and completely convinced I must climb 5.12 by 2017. To keep things honest, I have roughly a year of outdoor experience on the sandstone at Red Rock in Vegas. My crowning achievement as a climber has been falling after the crux on a soft 5.11d because I was too scared to make a big move.

Since then, I've moved to a small city in the Pacific Northwest that lacks access to great outdoor climbing. Also there's rain. Forever. So I've been holed up in a tiny gym, trying to 'get strong.' Tonight, I just wanted to have fun, and that's what I said to my girlfriend as we slid our shoes on. It was way more crowded than usual, especially on the bouldering walls, so I spent not even close to enough time warming up on a juggy circuit. With my forearms pumped and fingers feeling like they'd been caught in the garbage disposal, I asked my girlfriend for a belay on a 5.12- route. She obliged, harnessed up, and I tied in. I told her something like, "You might have to catch me on the second bolt." That was mistake #1. I was ready for failure, already going against the advice Eric Horst offers on pretty much the first page of his book How to Climb 5.12. To her that meant, keep it tight so he doesn't hit the ground. That's what I hoped it meant. So I climb to the first draw, clip it, and take. I'm way too pumped already. My breath is heavy and I overgripped the pinch. At this point I'm so pissed at myself because I cruised through this section the other day. My mind goes back to the V5 I worked for a few moves before getting on this stupid route, how I should have flashed it- but I'm climbing again, and decide to clip from a hold far below the second bolt. So I say, "clipping," and yank on the rope. There's not even enough slack to get me half way there. I pull again. There's a bit more. Again. More, but not all the way yet. At this point I yell, "C'mon dude!" in anger before putting the rope in my mouth and finally clipping the draw.

My right forearm is toast. Forget the rest of the route, it's over, and the person I taught to belay, infected with the climbing bug, lowers me and says, "I don't want to belay you anymore."
"Good," I said, "I don't want your belay anyway."

We talked about it and I apologized for being such an asshole, but I don't think she's as upset about it as I am. When did I become this climbing douche so concerned with sending a three bolt route at a rinky-dink gym? Mistake #2 was multifaceted. First, being mean to the person holding your life in their hands is pretty stupid, especially when you love that person and hope that he/she wants to climb more often. Blaming my own shortcomings on her was the other aspect of this mistake. I was so frustrated with my lack of progress, and still am, but must look for another way to channel the frustration into success. This mistake has forced me to examine the question, why climb at all?

A certain Messner quote comes to mind: "Thereby I sought a goal which not even climbers understood. When would I finally be able to live without goals? Why did I stand in my own way with my ambition and fanaticism?"

Did Reinhold get there? Will I?