🦎 Climbing diary #3: Lucky number seven
I sent my first v7.
It was clumsily done with visible beta confusion kicking in at the midpoint. The video (undisclosed) beautifully showcases my janky extremity guidance system. Also, it was hella soft.
But shucks, I did it. I want to put a pin in this specific send as a happy milestone, even though I’m conscious not to conflate my lizard brain glee with an actual ascendency in skill.
Still, it got me wondering about the unspeakable possibility that I could be breaking out of a plateau. Within the space of the last month, I’ve been pushing harder climbs at a higher rate than before.
My signature style leans towards explosive pops and monkey swings, drawing momentum to mask shortcomings in technique and finger strength. But the v7 was crimpy. It was static. It was a jumble of moves I tend to avoid because it forces me to confront weaknesses.
So what’s changed in the past month? Actually, a few things:
- More time on the wall. Before I was hitting the gym once a week, I’ve upped that to 2+.
- Increasingly projecting climbs antithetical to core strengths or routes I’d previously snub as being “obviously too difficult”.
- Quietly spending more time on strength and conditioning outside of climbing. I’ve always cross trained multiple sports, but it lacked intention.
- A month ago, I was popping painkillers to aclimatise a healing broken finger to the wall. I no longer do this and the finger is getting ever stronger.
Wins are motiviating, and especially unplanned ones. As individual data points they’re useless. They’re all just noise. It’s not a single climb that matters, it’s how many above your baseline that your pushing – the trendline – and it’s direction is squarely the result of compounding actions.
I have to remind myself that progress isn’t inevitable, and that attempting to measure it is a broken endeavour, especially in the form of a single v7. It’s just one of those “one day you notice it” sort of things. That’s where I find myself, happy days for now.