Sometimes sending feels easy. I’m sure you can relate. And while it sounds nice to effortlessly float up the rock and clip the chains, it’s not actually very helpful to remember sending that way. Why? Read on.
Sending the proj
You’ve put in the time, you’ve dialed the beta, you know every clip, and you’ve optimized every rest. By the time it comes to actually sending, the route feels easy. But it’s not, of course, or you wouldn’t be projecting it in the first place. It just feels that way when it finally happens.
This is kind of like running a marathon, where you train your body and your mind so you’re able to execute and run a marathon at race time. That’s the whole point of training – and projecting. You’re actively working to get better at the thing so that you can put it all together when it matters.
Here’s the problem
There are so many events leading up to a send that contribute to its success. And we humans love to forget the parts that were bad. When I think about, say, the week I spent in Greece by myself, I’m flooded with amazing memories of Santorini sunsets. I have to dig pretty deep to remember the bad parts – like the taxi driver who ripped me off or the time I got hopelessly lost in Athens.
The same thing happens with climbing. It’s all sunshine and rainbows and cruising up hard routes. This is also the premise of type two fun (explained here). The problem is that you walk away with only half the story – and that can color your future experiences…
The next project
You sent your project, and it felt easy. You’re psyched on this new 5.hard line, so you tie in a give it a go. It feels HARD. Your last project didn’t feel this hard, did it? Wow, the clips are nasty. You don’t remember the clips being an issue at all on your last project. Is this really the rest? How are you supposed to rest on this hold? You’ll never be able to rest here – the rest on your last project was a million times better than this…
You get the idea. If you romanticize previous experiences, you’re starting with unrealistic expectations. And when you can’t live up to those expectations, you feel shitty. We all do.
A note on fear
This was super important for me to learn. My first go on a new project can be scary. I will fall – it’s a project, after all. I might not be able to hang the draws. I might not be able to clip the draws. I might get halfway through the runout, freak out, and have to decide whether to take an enormous fall now or keep going – making the fall even bigger but hoping I won’t have to take it. I will fudge beta. I will miss obvious sequences. I probably won’t be able to do all the moves. That’s the nature of projecting.
But by the time I send, I probably won’t be scared at all. And when I only remember that – and not how heinous my first go was – it doesn’t help me on future projects. I’ll get on them, get scared, and think “but I wasn’t scared on my last project”…
So what does this all mean?
That’s not to say you should only remember the hard parts: the effortless send is worth the brain space for sure. Just don’t let it be all you remember. Try to keep a sliver of each part of the process in your memory – write it down if you have to. Better yet, film it. It’s basically impossible to think that you easily, fearlessly danced up the wall when you have footage of your first go a.k.a. a sufferfest.
Compare apples with apples: sends with sends, and first goes with first goes. By all means, expect to get to a place where sending feels easy – so long as you’re willing to put in the work. Just don’t expect anything to feel that way on day one. Climbing is hard, you know.
Featured image credit: Ryman Wiemann