Strangely enough, the most fun I had in LA also involved the scariest moment of my life.
Hanging in a seated position from a rope no thicker than my index finger, I look down to find another foothold. Instead, I see a hole under the rock my brother's standing on while he holds tight to that rope I don't really trust. I look left to see if there are any holds (hand, foot, elbow...) and have a fantastic view of the valley, the tops of the evergreens, and the mountains in the distance where the land meets the really big sky. I look up, to see the slightly curved top of the rock and the other rock, sharp and jutting out over the one I'm on, which is where the rope I don't trust is anchored. Above that, just sky - a beautiful clear blue I'd have appreciated from a different position and location.
I've been breathing fast and short for about half the climb by now, and I've convinced myself, muttering under my breath, to go just a little bit further at least three times. I've even blinked back tears. During the first part of the ascent, I was encouraged by my brother, and a stranger. She's very sweet, and she watched me as she belayed her Italian partner. I also still had a sense of humor. We joked for a bit about me using any excuse to get back down to the bottom, like when her partner asked to be lowered, and I said, "OK!".
And then, there's nowhere to go. Up until this point, the positioning of hands and feet has required thought but still had not reached "impossible". I look up at the rest of the rock remaining above me, and see absolutely no hand- or footholds. None. Look down again, try to find a lower handhold to move my right foot up a few more inches. Still, nothing.
I've already pushed myself way beyond my comfort level. In reality, I reached "outside the comfort zone" before I even started. I make one last attempt to find something, anything, reaching up and feeling the rock with my fingertips at arm's reach, and I slip.
The rope catches me before I fall an inch, and I sit quietly and hyperventilate while the harness, and the rope, hold me level. I look up one last time, and think, "I have absolutely no desire to reach the top of this rock. Why did I think I wanted to be there? Because I really don't. Want to be there, that is".
Now I have to get down off the rock, which means sitting back into open space and walking gently down the wall while my brother gives out a little bit of slack at a time. I take a moment to collect myself, wishing I didn't have to get down, because it's even worse that getting up, but knowing there's no other way. I reach the bottom, safe and sound, and try to pull myself back together while the strangers valiantly attempt to make me feel better.
Truthfully, I'm more proud of myself than I've ever been. Pushing myself beyond the edge of what's comfortable isn't something I do very often. I know my limits, and I stop when I reach them. Shoot, I never expected to climb one rock successfully, let alone start up a second one. I know why people love it. The puzzle, the physical workout, the mental workout... So I haven't crossed rock climbing off my to-do list forever, but it's definitely in last place.
Hanging in a seated position from a rope no thicker than my index finger, I look down to find another foothold. Instead, I see a hole under the rock my brother's standing on while he holds tight to that rope I don't really trust. I look left to see if there are any holds (hand, foot, elbow...) and have a fantastic view of the valley, the tops of the evergreens, and the mountains in the distance where the land meets the really big sky. I look up, to see the slightly curved top of the rock and the other rock, sharp and jutting out over the one I'm on, which is where the rope I don't trust is anchored. Above that, just sky - a beautiful clear blue I'd have appreciated from a different position and location.
I've been breathing fast and short for about half the climb by now, and I've convinced myself, muttering under my breath, to go just a little bit further at least three times. I've even blinked back tears. During the first part of the ascent, I was encouraged by my brother, and a stranger. She's very sweet, and she watched me as she belayed her Italian partner. I also still had a sense of humor. We joked for a bit about me using any excuse to get back down to the bottom, like when her partner asked to be lowered, and I said, "OK!".
And then, there's nowhere to go. Up until this point, the positioning of hands and feet has required thought but still had not reached "impossible". I look up at the rest of the rock remaining above me, and see absolutely no hand- or footholds. None. Look down again, try to find a lower handhold to move my right foot up a few more inches. Still, nothing.
I've already pushed myself way beyond my comfort level. In reality, I reached "outside the comfort zone" before I even started. I make one last attempt to find something, anything, reaching up and feeling the rock with my fingertips at arm's reach, and I slip.
The rope catches me before I fall an inch, and I sit quietly and hyperventilate while the harness, and the rope, hold me level. I look up one last time, and think, "I have absolutely no desire to reach the top of this rock. Why did I think I wanted to be there? Because I really don't. Want to be there, that is".
Now I have to get down off the rock, which means sitting back into open space and walking gently down the wall while my brother gives out a little bit of slack at a time. I take a moment to collect myself, wishing I didn't have to get down, because it's even worse that getting up, but knowing there's no other way. I reach the bottom, safe and sound, and try to pull myself back together while the strangers valiantly attempt to make me feel better.
Truthfully, I'm more proud of myself than I've ever been. Pushing myself beyond the edge of what's comfortable isn't something I do very often. I know my limits, and I stop when I reach them. Shoot, I never expected to climb one rock successfully, let alone start up a second one. I know why people love it. The puzzle, the physical workout, the mental workout... So I haven't crossed rock climbing off my to-do list forever, but it's definitely in last place.
Did I mention I have a phobia of heights?
No comments:
Post a Comment