Teaching New Climbers the Climbing Project Mindset

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This is the second video in a row in which I’ve focused on some of the mental aspects of getting new climbers (in our particular case, that’s our kids, but it could be any new climber) to up their level of commitment to a climbing discipline. And, as you may know, I have an entire series, called the Mental Health Awareness Month Series that spends each May (May being Mental Health Awareness Month in the United States) dedicated to some of the psychology of climbing and adventure.

In some ways, I find the technical side of climbing to be “easier” than the psychological side. That might be an entirely personal perspective. I’m pretty good at thinking about mechanical systems with ropes and things. I get the idea of force vectors in relation to center-of-mass that makes a particular body position relative to a climbing hold on a route more effective than another body position. That’s not to say these things are easy. I find them pretty easy to understand but hard to master. The application is often the big hurdle. I only have so much strength or athletic ability or body awareness or whatever. So, when I say “easier,” I still mean “really damn hard.”

It’s just that I think the psychological side of climber is even harder. It’s the difference between getting a 95% on the test and 100%. Both are exceptionally difficult. One is just slightly more difficult. And at it’s core, I find the psychology harder for two reason: 1) climbing, at it’s core, is a voluntary exposure to mortal peril that is hard to justify, and 2) the rest of my life impacts and is impacted by the psychological habits (good and bad) that I develop in climbing. So, it’s not like I have this clean, sequestered off area of my life called “climbing” in which I get to apply all of my performance psychology. No, I have fear in my regular life. I have relationships to nourish in my regular life. I have self-doubt in my regular life. I have joy and fulfillment in my regular life. The two bleed into each other. If I get stressed at work, I may find I’m not in the best mindset for a climb. But then there is the big “elephant in the room,” that it is hard to justify the positives in climbing (and there are many, many positives) when the cost is someone dying. That doesn’t happen a lot, but it happens. That tradeoff makes the psychology weighty in its application. It matters a lot when the consequences can be that high.

In many ways, it’s the difficulty of the psychology, overcoming my own inner barriers, that most draws me to climbing. If I’m honest with myself, I think it’s why other pursuits with psychological rewards, like hiking, are something I enjoy but not to the same degree. The high-stakes nature of the self-improvement makes that fulfillment coming from that self-improvement seem that much more rewarding.

That might be masochistic… or maybe sadistic if you consider the people that love me. But I do believe that all growth comes from discomfort. And so profound growth likely resides next to profound discomfort - such as the thought that you could die doing this thing.

Reasonable people disagree. There are many, many people who don’t climb. But I find the mental and emotional growth (and even the potential mental and emotional backslides that I risk) from climbing to be the most profound, and so the most worthy of my attention.

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Descending a Taut Climbing Rope: Moving Down on Friction Hitches

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Learning to Lead Belay Takes More Than Learning the Mechanics