Pack on. Pieces of gear clattering around in a fashion similar to a mountain goat, the only difference is an excess of objects strapped to my bag substitutes the bell. Not to be tracked by design, but easily found and followed as I wander through nature. Each step fires a tone different to the previous, with changes in rhythm dictated by the varying terrain. Often the only ears to my approach is my climbing partner, nonetheless the sound setting out the pace of the day. Laughs and chatter bursts through long verbal silences as our minds work their way through the chaotic expectations. Rising anxieties that ebb and flow with the rays of excitement drawn out by nature’s beauty. Sometimes the exhaustion and deprivation of the week brings you to hope that whatever cliff you challenge will wash away the troubles and allow rest. Any guidebook will likely detail the approach notes to a crag. A journey from the nearest point of civilisation to the destination. But no guide captures the mental process your mind may wander through. For the mind often starts hours, days or even weeks before, processing desires, expectations and anxieties – forever analysing into the unknown.

Outdoor climbing represents the purest and most enjoyable aspect of the sport for me, a perspective I think most climbers share. It’s where it started and for those with the ability to, it is where many of us find our joy through exploring new places and appreciating nature while pushing our limits. I find serenity in overcoming doubt on the tranquil towering rocks that have stood long before the life that surrounds them. The outdoors open different avenues in my mind, both positive and negative.

Within climbing, the term flow often crops up, defined by Hazel Finlay as ‘a state of mind when you’re operating optimally’. When isolated in my mental bubble high on a rock face, my mind usually goes one or two ways. Either I am well versed and confident, finding balance and strength as I dance through moves with fluidity and ease – or I freeze. Stuck in a loop of anxiety and overwhelmed with every move, questioning my strength, while not thinking clearly as fear runs rampant through my thoughts. Scared to fall, scared to climb.

Arousal is important with anything we do in life. Under aroused and you don’t have the desire and motivation to do a task, over aroused and you are overwhelmed and unable to focus on a task. Living with ADHD means I am often in a state of under or over arousal. Finding a balanced middleground is hard, especially after the challenge of the week, exacerbated by the cost to reach the crag in time and effort. As I fight to settle the mind, the expectations of joy I should be experiencing push back. All the self internalised pressure to create a “successful” outcome, is combined with the self criticism over climbing grades. An overwhelming contemplation to say the least.

Flow is hard to find but beautiful to experience. When your passion and escape is blocked by anxieties it is easy to amplify your negative thoughts. It is frustrating after so much training, time and energy when I struggle to perform in such beautiful places. However, maybe days where our mental state pulls our performance into a negative place, are the days we can learn the most from.

Take a breath.

Draw out your exhales and slow down. Calm the mind so each passing thought can be read and acknowledged. Find a memory of strength and instead of using it to sadden your progress and sink your day, use it to remind yourself of your motivations and desires. Seek gratitude in each movement, regardless of the grade or difficulty. Move with your breathing, and breath with your movement. Focus on the position of every part of your body, releasing tension and weight, taking small steps into the direction of flow.

Days like these build a better understanding that our body cannot perform at its limit in a perfectly repeatable pattern, that external and internal factors will vary, and so too can our expectations. Watching competition climbing, or any other competition sport, makes you realise the brutal nature of having to perform on demand. Most people work jobs where a small mistake or a bad day just results in giving it another try the following morning. But in professional sports, your ‘success is defined by the limits of the competition’. Perform in the right moment and you are to be celebrated and remembered, miss it and you will be forgotten. It is a narrative managed by so many in the sport, and often is a contributing factor to many climbers retiring from competitions. Those that still compete, have an ability to find gratitude and success in even their hardest days on the wall, but even then it takes a toll. 

Pack off. The silence falls. As I place my bag down, my eyes dart up, reflecting as I catch my breath. The approach has reached its end and success can already be found, if we find gratitude in the process, not just the destination. But our true desire is ready to be sought out. Expectations grow exponentially now that the goal is in sight, I stare up at a rock face appreciating its features and flow. In this moment it is easy to forget all of the thoughts that just passed through your mind on the approach journey. Instead I try to appreciate the delicate path my mind has traversed and enjoy my climb.

I take a breath.