Bouldering World Cup

Munich, Germany

July 30 - 31, 2010

      It’s the day after qualifiers here in Munich, Germany. It’s the best weather day I’ve had since arriving Tuesday last. The sun is out, the skies are mostly clear and it’s warm; warm enough for shorts had I packed any. I’m on a train to Füssen to visit Neuschwanstein castle. It’s a two hour train ride from Munich, which lends me a bit of time to reflect on my journey to the World Cup.

     In the time I’ve been competing, I’ve learned a lot. Competition climbing, in my mind, is a sport of its own.  There are many variables inherent to the competition sport that is not shared in any other aspect of climbing. The routes are ever changing in quality, difficulty and style.  One can never predict the encounter until confronted. In this way, confidence, determination and experience are your only weapons.

    The time constraints for attempts and the strategy one must employ, lend itself to a heightened pressure not typically brought on oneself in ordinary climbing rituals.  One must be prepared to perform on demand and preferably succeed on the first attempt.  Every attempt, every fall, every bonus, and every top achieved, matters. No matter how I want it to matter less, even with my best efforts, the result can still be disappointing.

     This can be emphasized by my 2^nd and final World Cup experience this season.  Tying for last place was not gratifying. If only I could have controlled the swing, lept higher, thought to use my left hand, understood the sequence sooner…if only. It didn’t matter to me that the problems were ridiculously challenging. I’m reminded that someone had to have climbed it before the competitors made an attempt and therefore, it must be possible! Despite my belief that I am capable, a competition like this reminds me that good can still not be good enough.  I have to look deeper within myself to see why my performance suffered.

   There is a drawback to not being world ranked and competing in a world cup. It is that those unranked competitors go at the end of the running order in random assignment. When you go near or at the end, there is little time left after your climbing time to watch anyone else. Before and during your time, you are hidden away so as not to see anything about the problem until it is your turn. I find this order completely useless as a novice competitor because I miss the opportunity to learn from other competitors competing. Simply observing a competition does not convey the same lessons as having attempted the problems and then observed. In both cases, I was near the end of the running order and therefore, my lessons from these two experiences must be found introspectively.

     Two things I did better in Munich than my first World Cup experience in Vail, Colorado: 1) I relaxed and 2) I could detect nervous climbing and refocus.  One other observation came during my competition time. I observed that there was a deeper desire and determination or aggression that I was not employing.  This is not something you tell yourself you can be. It is like an animal instinct drawn upon as if for survival but rooted in a confidence that has no other expression than the swift execution of each move. My mind had already done the thinking and analyzing, it was my body that needed to execute with unwavering conviction. The lesson here was to adapt on the fly but still maintain that conviction. For myself, this translated into the challenge to avoid rushing a sequence and trusting in my ability.