“Never compare yourself. Everyone blossoms in their own time in different ways. Don't judge yourself by someone else's path.”
It’s hard to see others climbing hard or running long distances or cycling hard and feel like my best days are behind me. When did I lose it all? Or did I?
Am I too far removed from my past that I’ve forgotten who I am? I was the guy who would bushwhack with two crashpads in to some place I’d never been but suspected of having boulders, would find said boulders, clean them, climb every line I could in a day, and return and rinse and repeat.
I established a few hundred problems that way. When I was climbing my best I was putting up V2s and V3s regularly alone with no spotter. Just my two dogs. No cell phone. Hardly told anyone where I was going. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t strain my relationships.
The most shaken I’ve ever been while climbing was on the first ascent of a twenty foot highball that ended up with a V1 crux right at the end. I’d padded the problem all wrong and ended up cruxing high over naked earth. Well, and two loyal but irrevocably stupid dogs. Not only would falling in that obscure location result in my utter destruction, but I’d probably kill one or both of my canine companions as well. Pumped silly from the combination of a low crux and onsighting licheny rock I somehow held it together and ended up sitting on top of the boulder gasping for air, shaking like a leaf, and swearing off anything more adventurous than getting in the shower before checking to see if there’s towel on the peg.
Obviously I eventually settled down and decided not to retire from the outdoor life. I called that one “Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster.” If you know you know. Maybe some day I’ll go back with a posse. Or not. The fallen tree I used to cross the creek is probably gone.
Even if I’m past my prime, my prime was pretty good. Oh, I never climbed harder than V4-V5. But I climbed a lot. So much I wrecked my tendons. I have a lot of good stories. Memories that will be entangled with my quantums for as long as I can hold on to them.
I mourn the part of my life I was not on the path I wanted to be. It was a long, long time. Long enough it feels like I lost a lifetime. But even the time I felt I was astray I had great experiences and lived a good life. It’s just not the route I set out to travel. And I missed out on experiences I definitely wanted to have. Many of those I simply will not have time to find now. And many have passed and can’t be found again.
Looking ahead I know I can stay true to my path. And it will be one worthy of my intention. I’m just struggling with so much baggage. It’s so heavy now. And I’m not as young and resilient as I once was. That doesn’t mean I’m not valuable. To myself or others. There’s something beautiful about the struggle.
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