tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit
In rock climbing, two of the basic ways of moving across the wall are termed static and dynamic climbing. Dynamic climbing uses momentum to travel between holds. It can range from bumping one hand a few inches further to launching off the wall in a full-body jump to catch a hold much higher up. Moving dynamically is often used to compensate for lack of strength or technique, but it can be also very usefully used to compensate for lack of reach.
Static climbing requires a stable position before making small, controlled moves to advance up the wall. It generally moves you more slowly and less wildly, and requires consistent, sustained strength instead of a single burst. It is often billed as being the more challenging and advanced technique, of the two, although a well-rounded climber should be able to do both.
I have always been a static climber. I rarely move until I am sure where I can put my hands and feet. I am much more likely to back down from a difficult move and hold myself at a resting spot than to try it and fall. Not because I fear heights, or falling, or mistrust my belayer, but because I mentally lack the ability to launch myself to unknown places, and much prefer to feel like I'm in solid. control of my position. As a result, this has forced me to develop rather respectable grip strength, technique, and balance, which certainly help me be a better climber, and let me move very smoothly on the rock. But at the same time, routes that specifically require extreme dynamic moves are complete dead-ends for me. Even if I get up the nerve to -try- the lunge required, my body just won't move more then a few inches.
I realized recently that I live my life statically; similar to the way I climb. I don't jump into things; I step slowly and carefully. I don't take risks and I dislike (and am horrible at) gambling. I don't make huge changes or big moves which take me away from a center of security, at least not without doing a huge amount of thinking, considering, and getting external advice and support first. On one hand, it means that in my life, I've developed a respectable amount of strength, stability, and balance. I feel content with where I gotten myself to, and confident that I can sustain me. I didn't used to be this strongly static, but it's definitely where I've ended up.
But on the other hand, when life wants me to be spontaneous, to go jump into something new, or to just let go of what I have ahold of and let myself fall, it's very, very hard to do so. Scary things range from a new programming project to trying out a new sport, to learning to drive a strange car, to letting my heart fall for a new person. I'm feeling TOO static. I have memories of jumping out of trees or off swingsets or falling for people, memories of me not being quite this controlled and safe. While I don't want -that- much chaos, I would like to get some more confidence in trying new things.
In the past month, I've jumped off or fallen off several familiar life routes. Sometimes I find success, and my next handhold is a big solid and rewarding one. Sometimes I miss it completely and I'm left caught up in my harness and rope, yelling in frustration and tears at the route I left.
In the gym in the past few weeks, I've tried to force myself to do more dynamic climbs. As much as I dislike them, I am also fully aware of how much they expand my overall abilities, and each little thing I succeed at gets me a little less afraid. The full-body lunges may forever be out of my range, but I can work on the smaller moves. And maybe training my body to improve at dynamic moves will encourage my brain to get better at it, too.
That's my observation on this cross-quarter. That can be my focus for this season.
Static climbing requires a stable position before making small, controlled moves to advance up the wall. It generally moves you more slowly and less wildly, and requires consistent, sustained strength instead of a single burst. It is often billed as being the more challenging and advanced technique, of the two, although a well-rounded climber should be able to do both.
I have always been a static climber. I rarely move until I am sure where I can put my hands and feet. I am much more likely to back down from a difficult move and hold myself at a resting spot than to try it and fall. Not because I fear heights, or falling, or mistrust my belayer, but because I mentally lack the ability to launch myself to unknown places, and much prefer to feel like I'm in solid. control of my position. As a result, this has forced me to develop rather respectable grip strength, technique, and balance, which certainly help me be a better climber, and let me move very smoothly on the rock. But at the same time, routes that specifically require extreme dynamic moves are complete dead-ends for me. Even if I get up the nerve to -try- the lunge required, my body just won't move more then a few inches.
I realized recently that I live my life statically; similar to the way I climb. I don't jump into things; I step slowly and carefully. I don't take risks and I dislike (and am horrible at) gambling. I don't make huge changes or big moves which take me away from a center of security, at least not without doing a huge amount of thinking, considering, and getting external advice and support first. On one hand, it means that in my life, I've developed a respectable amount of strength, stability, and balance. I feel content with where I gotten myself to, and confident that I can sustain me. I didn't used to be this strongly static, but it's definitely where I've ended up.
But on the other hand, when life wants me to be spontaneous, to go jump into something new, or to just let go of what I have ahold of and let myself fall, it's very, very hard to do so. Scary things range from a new programming project to trying out a new sport, to learning to drive a strange car, to letting my heart fall for a new person. I'm feeling TOO static. I have memories of jumping out of trees or off swingsets or falling for people, memories of me not being quite this controlled and safe. While I don't want -that- much chaos, I would like to get some more confidence in trying new things.
In the past month, I've jumped off or fallen off several familiar life routes. Sometimes I find success, and my next handhold is a big solid and rewarding one. Sometimes I miss it completely and I'm left caught up in my harness and rope, yelling in frustration and tears at the route I left.
In the gym in the past few weeks, I've tried to force myself to do more dynamic climbs. As much as I dislike them, I am also fully aware of how much they expand my overall abilities, and each little thing I succeed at gets me a little less afraid. The full-body lunges may forever be out of my range, but I can work on the smaller moves. And maybe training my body to improve at dynamic moves will encourage my brain to get better at it, too.
That's my observation on this cross-quarter. That can be my focus for this season.