Sometimes Things Just Work
Sometimes things just work, you don’t have to try, put any effort in, just breeze through without a care in the world. They feel right. It’s effortless. Failure isn’t failure, it’s a problem to be solved, all an enjoyable experience, part of life’s rich tapestry.
Sometimes things don’t work, try and try, find complex solutions which break things down even worse than before. Effort doesn’t work, nothing works.
The view I hold of life becomes grey.
Relationships sometimes work and sometimes they break down.
The run up to Saas Fe, third round of the 2014 ice climbing world cup series was complicated.
Relationships break down, and mine was on the borderline.
The little training I had been able to do since changing disciplines 5 months earlier faded, went out of the window.
Flu caught up with me. Dyslexia caught up with me. Time ran away like it was water. No matter how much effort you put in, sometimes things just don’t work. I started to struggle, my essays lay unwritten, emails lay unanswered and the phone just rang out.
Journals don’t mean anything. The words skip about as if they were a marionette doll controlled by an echoing doubt, words became inter-changeable. Something can mean anything but laziness doesn’t fit with me. Borderline is written on feedback forms, the criticisms are about aspects I feel that are out of my control. Boderline is becoming too familiar for comfort.
Life turns in to a battle, time off and support become crass and unwelcome. It’s rude for even asking, themes seem to be; try not to waste people’s time by wanting something different.
Not all our values are held by the people around us. Fighting for some acknowledgment for my accomplishments introduces fear and doubt, the value diminishes, my worth halters, and my mind and body don’t seem to work like they, perhaps, should.
Insecurity grows, maybe I can get some help but you have to fight for it and it’s not like the people who could be there for you would be.
International comps are serious, fly in, fly out, get 4 people tall athletic people and all their kit in a Fiat Panda, no sleep, register, scramble for the Bolognese, get up early for isolation, warm up, get psyched, feel intimidated, take more t-shirts…try and figure out where you should be, what you should be doing, Saas Fe was my first international, I went with a mixture of pride and apprehension. The week running up to the comp was a mixture of heartache and frustration. It’s not the best preparation. Certain words do not come easily to me and I got stunted with differing views in dusty tomes. Long drives for logic games maybe enlightening but I’ve been there before, I chose not to work in that part the industry. More heartache from wasted futures is not what I need to compete on my best.
Some things don’t come easily to me, not as easily as I would like them too. In the run up to the comp I had forgotten what it was like to have fun, to smile, to be myself.
But then, away from all your troubles some things come easily, like smiling at strangers. Like making friends with people from all over the world, it’s not a competition it’s a family. Scream for everyone and hope you meet at the next round.
I messed up the route reading, didn’t see how to use the hold, do the move, I tried, I tried hard ,I jumped, I fell, fell low, don’t care, sometimes things just come good, they just feel right. 23rd place in my first international, not too shabby, not want I want though and I know understand just how much better I can do. I want to make semi-finals, be top 20.
My phone beeps with a text message, it from the one person I want to hear from most; ‘I’ve seen you on the live stream, it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in ages, keep doing it, it suits you’
I can change… Some things just work, they feel right. I’m not meant to be contained, days where you don’t get the result you want but you do something challenging, that pushes your passion, mind and body is still a good day.
Fresh cold air feels so good, the wooden porch of the cabin has soaked up the sun and feels warm as I sunbathe in the valley near Kandersteg. Concentrating on my breath, feel the energy from something so primal, watch the boyish collective of Team GB power through the steep roof of Uashenne. Slither back through the powder to go cheer them on. I’m not climbing but it’s not a day wasted. I’m in such a powerfully beautiful area.
I have three days at home before I fly back to Geneva airport and my next round in Champagny En Vanoise. It’s everything I have ever wanted. There are details to sort in my life still, some things just feel right, I’m moving in the right direction.
(Champagny En Vanoise I semi-finaled in 16th place, and finished in 19th)