I’ve always been drawn to the idea of pushing my limits, facing challenges head-on, and experiencing the thrill of accomplishment. For years, rock climbing has sat comfortably on my bucket list, a daunting yet alluring prospect that whispered promises of adventure and self-discovery. This past summer, it was decided for me that it was time to stop dreaming and start doing. And let me tell you, it was an experience that exceeded all expectations and left me with a sense of achievement.
A little back story, I currently have a 50 Before 50 Things To Do, something that my sister, sister in law, brother and brother in law know about. It’s my 40th birthday, I had been summoned to my brother and sister in law’s house and I was told I would be going on an adventure. I had no idea what was happening but I do trust my siblings so I was happy to go along. It wasn’t until we were walking up to the building (that literally looked like it was in the middle of no where) that I figured out what we were about to do.
The moment I walked into the climbing gym, I was hit with a mix of excitement and nervous apprehension. The walls soared upwards, dotted with an array of colorful holds, and climbers moved with an impressive agility that seemed almost effortless. My heart pounded a little faster, a familiar sensation when I’m about to step outside my comfort zone. To say I was intimidated by the whole thing would be an understatement. I was terrified, I am not one for heights and I am not comfortable with my agility in the fitness department.
After an orientation and thorough lesson, I got fitted with my harness and those surprisingly tight climbing shoes, I stood at the base of my first wall. It was a beginner route, clearly marked, but from where I stood, it still looked like a vertical puzzle. My first few attempts were, to put it mildly, clumsy. I fumbled with the holds, my muscles burned quickly, and I felt a pang of frustration. This was harder than it looked! But then, something shifted. I started to listen to my sister-in-law and my sister’s advice, focusing on my balance and using my legs more than my arms. With each carefully placed foot and deliberate hand movement, I felt a tiny spark of confidence ignite. The colourful holds transformed from obstacles into a path, a sequence of deliberate steps towards an unseen summit.
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There was one particular section where I just froze. My arms were aching, my mind was telling me to give up, and the next hold seemed just out of reach. I hear my girls from below, calm and steady. “Look for the next hold, breathe, and trust your feet.” I took a deep breath, looked up, and saw it – a small, almost hidden divot that I could just grasp. It took every ounce of mental and physical effort, but I reached it, pulled myself up, and suddenly, I made the next climb. Though I did not successfully complete a full wall climb, I am proud of myself for taking the risk and trying it even though I was scared to do it.
I am grateful for the opportunity, I am grateful for my tribe who encouraged me, planned it and cheered me on from all spaces. It is so satisfying to be able to cross an iconic adventure off the bucket list. One down, forty nine more to go!