it my new favorite motions: Size nine rental shoes and chalk bag from the check-in counter, sandals and backpack squished into a cubby. The air conditioning’s still out of commission, but two more industrial-sized fans circulate air, keeping the gym comfortable. Upbeat music plays mid-level, and just like last time, the different veins of colored holds (which I now know are called either routes or boulder problems) are being scaled by climbers of every level. There’s still loads of open space, so I find a bench near the V0 we practiced the other day and slide the snug shoes on.
To the left of the check-in desk, several shelves and racks display climbing gear for sale. Chalk. Shoes. Crash pads for outdoor bouldering, as well as harnesses and helmets for people who climb on higher formations with ropes. There are even T-shirts and beanies that say Rock Central on them. I’ll have to check that out at some point. For now, I stretch out for a few minutes to get the blood flowing.
Then, with my sights set on the nearby boulder problem that’s yet to be conquered, I chalk my hands. White powder floats away as I clap them together to brush away any excess. With a swipe at my spandex shorts, white streaks smear the sides of the black fabric. I tug at my oversized T-shirt for a beat of cooler air, but honestly, I’m so focused on getting to the top of this route, that I step up to the first blue holds, find the starting position, and lift off the ground.
The muscles that were sore the last few days remind me that they’re still tender, but it’s now a contented kind of ache. Motions that were entirely foreign are now growing more familiar. Since we were taught how important it is to warm up to avoid muscle strains and injury, I take my time and don’t push myself to the top. Instead, I downclimb after only a few moves, shake my arms out, and chalk up again. Gosh this feels so good. I’m smiling like a dork but I don’t care. It’s starting to make sense why people come here time after time.
Lumbering back across the thick mats is kind of like walking over a mattress—soft but supportive. I start at the beginning again, this time with the goal being the top. Toe, hand, swivel. Toe, hand, balance. Getting there, higher and higher. One move requires me to switch my foot and I struggle through the move but finally manage. Only four holds from the top now. I don’t dare glance back, but from my peripheral vision can see how small people are becoming beneath me. It feels like Everest even though I’m probably only three or four yards off the ground. Still, with no rope or safety net, falling means actually falling. Even if the mats do have give to them, it’s an abrupt stop. What if I land funny and twist a knee or tweak a wrist? All I have to do is reach the next hold to scamper higher, but my hands—unaccustomed to this amount of strain—are starting to slip and shake. If I fall, it will be sudden and swift. I could meet the mat at all kinds of odd angles. Panic sets in.
But I’ve come here to practice, and this is one of my goals. To make it to the top. And in order to achieve that, I have to stay calm and collected. Even if I don’t top this route, I can at least, give it my all. I close my eyes. Draw in a series of deep breaths. Looking up again, I reach for the next hold. Literally give it everything I have when my foot starts to slip.
And I’m falling. Whoomp! I hit the mat like a sack of potatoes and my first reaction is ow.
The second is, I survived!
That wasn’t bad. Okay, maybe a little terrifying, and I technically could have hurt myself, but falling is just a part of this and at least I now know that it’s not the end of the world. Struggling to sit, I shake out the tension and manage to stand. It might be a good time to grab a drink of water and rest up before trying again. Then again, if I feel nervous, I could always rent a harness and try one of the auto belays. But wait. I have to take a different class to be authorized and they have to be signed up for in advance. Maybe next time. For now, this will be the spot for me today.
I slip off the snug shoes which pinch and prickle from toe to heel, then nab my water bottle from the cubby. Feeling sore, I sit back on the bench. Nearby, a woman with earbuds cruises along the wall like it’s effortless. Her reach is long and sinewy. Every motion fluid. Her footwork is impressive. Each movement carved from years of practice and hard work. I watch as she scales a steep overhang, her entire body horizontal, and she clambers up and around the faux boulder. At the top, she grips the hold with two hands, then offers a quick glance to the mats below before hopping down. She lands cat-like and it’s such a sight to witness. Also sort of intimidating considering that I’m yet to reach the top of the most beginner of all beginner sections. There’s second graders who know how to climb this stretch of wall.
But that’s okay. This isn’t a place to compare. This is a place where I want to break free of that. It’s not my goal to be an expert. It’s my goal to do exactly what I’m doing. Trying and giving it my all.
After re-shoeing, I chalk up and try the climb two more times before finally giving up and realizing that I might not reach the top today. The final holds are just so high and I’ve never fallen from that height before. But there are so many routes and walls here to explore that I grab my shoes and chalk bag and hunt down more V0s. I find a nifty little red one that curves around one of the walls. The moves aren’t hard, but the action is so flowy and fun that I feel light as air in reaching the top. The height isn’t as extreme, so it’s an easy sense of satisfaction and one that puts a little gas in my confidence tank. Downclimbing isn’t hard and I land on the mats with ease. I could seriously do that ten more times it was so fun, but someone else is waiting for this route, so I back up to give them a chance.
“Hi, uh. I don’t want to startle you,” comes a voice from behind.
I turn and see a guy standing there. On second glance, it’s the young man from Valley Outfitters the day I first signed up. This is the guy who was so helpful. He’s wearing a climbing harness around his waist, and by the look of it, has been probably giving a belay lesson or two today. Ropes dangle from the wall behind him and one is still swaying.
“Sadie was it?” He has the same clipboard in his grasp.
“Oh hi. Yes.” I brush chalk from my hands.
“Well, I wanted to tell you about an event coming up.” He shows me the clipboard. “It’s a climbing competition that we hold three times a year. People can enter at every level and we have lots of space still for the beginner competition. Would you by any chance be interested?”
I stare at him. “Me . . . me?” In a competition? Did he just see what happened back there? “Well, I can’t even get to the top of some of these V0s, so I don’t think people would want to watch me.” I laugh.
He smirks. “I know it kind of sounds intimidating but the events are actually a lot of fun, and trust me, everyone just has a good time cheering climbers on.” He pulls a flyer free from his clipboard. “Just think about it. Sign-ups are open for two more weeks. There are prizes and we’ll have vendors selling shoes and chalk bags and there will even be food trucks.” He lowers the clipboard, clearly trying to let me off the hook.
He can probably see that I’m shaking like a leaf.
“And even if you just want to come as a spectator, I hope you do. It’ll be a great time and all our members get in for free so you can come even for just part of it if you want.”
I accept the flyer. “Thanks. I’ll definitely think about it.” I’m so not doing it.
“Cool. If you change your mind, you register at the front desk. We’ll be putting the sign-ups into the system, but for now I’m just helping to spread the word.”
I nod politely and he waves before heading off to talk to more people with his clipboard. I’m starting to think he has a printing press at his home. The guy has a flyer for everything, and I’m not exactly complaining. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. But still, even I have limits on my level of insanity.
Stepping back to rest, I watch as a kid climbs the blue V0 I’m still stuck on. He makes it to the top then kicks his feet up to dangle upside down. Upright again, he jumps to the ground before running off to climb something new. How did he make that look so easy? It’s probably simple, really. Apart from his limber age and previous practice, he approached the wall with no fear. He embraced confidence and let it be what led him to the top—no matter what.
Can I somehow adjust my mindset? I can’t suddenly alter my skill. That can only come slowly with time. But my mindset is the easiest thing I can change today.
The chalk bag hangs limp in my hands. It would be easy to coat some on and step forward, but I want to ponder this one some more. Ponder what is holding me back. I’m determined to try that one again, but this is probably a good time to explore a few more sections before heading back. On the other side of the gym, I wait while some climbers finish up their attempts, then edge forward. People glance my way, probably wondering who the new girl is. I give a weak smile and approach the wall. After some scouting, I’m able to top two more routes and struggle partway up several more. It’s all amazing practice and all challenging me to the limits. A marvelous feeling. An hour goes by, and while this is exhausting, it’s also some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time. By the time my hands are on fire, my muscles ache, and I’m covered in chalk from head to aching toes, I drop to the mat panting and pull the shoes off for the final time today.
I gulp down cool water and change into my sandals before returning the rental shoes to the check-in desk. Backpack and keys in hand, I’m just about to leave when I notice a chalkboard displaying names and climbing levels. It must be details from the last competition. It lists the ranks of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd for each climbing level and who won each title. My gaze drops to the very bottom of the sign where there’s a space for the V1-V2 section. The level the clipboard guy suggested I compete in. No winners are listed.
The female instructor who ran our beginner lesson is seated at the desk. I lean forward when she looks my way. “Can I ask why there are no winners in this level?”
“Oh.” She stands to better see the sign from her angle. Her blonde braid brushes the surface of the counter. “It’s because we didn’t have anyone compete in the beginning category last time.”
"Do you know why?”
“Well, I think it’s because a lot of newer climbers might be too nervous about entering a competition. They’re not as experienced as the more advanced people and it seems to kind of freak them out.” Her terracotta orange earrings bounce as she laughs. “But I think it would be cool to get some people in that category. We always keep it open and maybe one of these days it will be filled.”
I nod and thank her for explaining. She’s upbeat as always as she slides my rental shoes back on the shelf. I thank her for another fun visit.
“See you next time!” she calls.
After heading out to my Jeep, I drive the few miles home where I shower and drown my hunger in a huge fruit smoothie. Climbing really takes a lot out of you, and both times I’ve gone, I’m famished afterwards. It’s kind of nice to know that my body burned so much energy and is eager for more. It’s nice to recognize how hard my body is working. I love the idea of helping it get into better shape.
Calypso meows between my feet. At the pantry, I pop open a can of wet food and scoop some into her glass dish. “There you are, girl.”
Plopping down on the couch, I scroll through my phone to check emails. There’s one from my editor in response to my last article. I tap it open and peruse his thoughts. He loves the topic and the content. He suggests a few light revisions. On a whim, I’ve been drafting up future ideas for articles tailored to single adults. Could there be a good time to explore hobby options as a single person? Or how to navigate the holidays alone and still have joy? Will he shoot them down in five words flat?
Sorry. Not our target audience.
There will only be one way to find out. For now, our target audience has been clear: Christian singles who are looking for guidance in the dating world. His response makes sense, but it seemed worth a shot. Calypso hops up onto the couch beside me, happily receiving a kiss to the top of her black head. She purrs, and as I stroke her from head to tail, I think of how I want to write about something that matters to me. Something that matters to the people I care about. Friends like Britt and even others. I pull one sore leg up and then the other. It’s not that singleness is my goal, but it just so happens to be my life. I don’t want to treat my life right now like it’s a waiting room I’m stuck in—hoping for something better to come along. Maybe something different will come along, and if so, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, but for now, my world’s not exactly changing. I’m tired of feeling—and being treated like—I’m in this category of people who are only half-important.
The editor’s email closes with a request for me to write the next article on “Fun Christmas Date Ideas.” I roll my eyes before plopping my forehead onto my knees.
Come on, Sadie. You can do better than this.
I need to think very seriously of how to respond, but for now, know what needs to be done. Lifting my head, I rub at my forehead and rise. Walking-slash-limping to the door, I drag my sore self back down the stairs of the apartment complex, back into my Jeep and crank the engine and head back down the road. This time beneath a sky softening to dusk. All the way into the parking lot of the climbing gym, and back to the check-in desk. It’s the same girl sitting there from an hour ago. It’s the same smile that greets me as she stands.
From my backpack, I pull out the folded flyer and set it on the counter between us.
“I was told this is the place to sign up for the climbing competition next month. My name’s Sadie and I’m a beginner.”