in the midst of failure

We tend to only share our failures after we have gone back and eclipsed them. Successes are framed as a resolution to a plot line. Sometimes we add a dash of failure in for flavor, but that’s not the focus. It’s a nicely packaged, easy-to-digest narrative - often inspiring and often repeated.

We share less about our experiences in the midst of a failure. And if we don’t go back and succeed, maybe we never share our experience at all. But in the midst of failure is where I am currently residing and it’s what I feel moved to express. Writing about it allows me to draw some lines between swirling thoughts in my head and jagged emotions in my heart.

Between Heaven and Hell 5.13b (8a)

It’s snowing this morning in Bozeman. Yesterday was likely the last day I had to redpoint “Between Heaven and Hell” for the year. It is a swoon-worthy route that flows up a waved limestone fin. The route maintains two different rock characters throughout. Smooth, charcoal limestone with few imperfections creates the wave on the left. You bump to scallops, side-pull crimps that separate your fingers, and a few restful flakes. Much steeper, peanut colored rock on your right consists of slopers, pinches, and more side pulls. There are very few horizontal holds on the entire route. Pulling in, not down, is the name of the game. Your upward trajectory is spurred along mostly by your feet, your hands are there to help keep your hips in, making the foot moves possible. The boulder problem crux is powerful and committing.

Once above the crux, you continue up the broken spine to the top of the formation. The rock character stays distinct on the two sides of the arête, resulting in interesting and rewarding movement. The route really has it all - aesthetic, a steep boulder problem, arête climbing, and intensive foot beta.

Crux moves on between Heaven and Hell 5.13b (8a) - photo by Austin Schmitz

When we got up to the crag yesterday, everything seemed to be falling into place, the weather was primo for climbing in the shade, good friends were there to support me, I had the beta dialed. I’d already one-hung it multiple times in different places. It felt like the day. In my bones, I felt that it was the day. I was going to send the rig.

But I didn’t. And it wasn’t the day.

And it was hard because it was likely the last possible day on it for the year. And it was hard because I’m at the point where I know I can send it, but I didn’t.

I hit the hardest two moves on the climb each and every go, and it just sort of fell apart after that. I let my focus leak and the excitement distracted me. I lacked the steady, internal calmness that I needed to send. Yesterday, my mental fortitude just did not match up with the demands of the climb. I one hung the thing five more times. I failed and it stung. To me, the sting is worth sharing, whether or not I overcome it later.

The value I see in this moment, even though I am so frustrated, illuminates why I know I’ll be climbing forever. I still love it for the failure - not despite the failure. These periods of failure and vulnerability are valuable because they are so raw. The friends that share these intense moments with you see you broken down. You grow closer to each other. You grow closer to yourself as well.

My mind isn’t naturally inclined to appreciate a process purely for the sake of the experience. I like having and then achieving goals. Between Heaven and Hell has taught me make space for a process. I am learning more from failed attempts than from clipped chains. I am allowing myself to feel and express. I am learning that we can be patient with ourselves without tempering our tenacity. I am learning that we can be kind to ourselves while pushing our limits..

“I am learning that we can patient with ourselves without tempering our tenacity. I am learning that we can be kind to ourselves while pushing our limits.”

Failure is a vital part of the sport, not just a footnote. Mental strength may be the limiting factor one day and physical strength might limit you the next. Sometimes they line up perfectly; but more often, they don’t. They ebb and flow and you learn to do the same.

*footnote: route sent on Nov 8, 2019… and that is the proper use of a footnote :P