Take Risks - You’ll Remember Them Later
This article appears in the September 2020 edition of Common Climber
In the middle of the route my right leg started to shake.
I had just clipped into the last quickdraw and could see the distance between myself and the next one. There were six bolts up to a set of chains and I was at the third.
I could hear others chatting casually below me and feel the wind blowing across my face. I was getting further away from the safety of the ground. Would I deck if I fell? Is anyone watching me, paying attention to what I’m doing? Did I tie my knot correctly to my harness?
After every clip I would realign myself, having mental pep talks that I was safely clipped in - that the equipment was trustworthy. But, it was always between clips - when I was away from the safety of the previous quickdraw - that my panic took over.
Months later, I still recall that climb, replaying it over again in my memory.
But why was this route so memorable? Because it scared me.
Episodic memories are ones formed from events, or episodes, that we’ve experienced in our lives - a climbing trip to Bishop, your childhood piano recital, meeting your partner for an anniversary dinner. With these types of memories we remember details like time, place, smells, flavors, and how we felt. The intensity of the memory depends upon how emotionally charged we are and the amount of focus we give to the experience.
So what happens during a fearful event? What makes them memorable later on?
It has to do with the amygdala and hippocampus. We have one of each in both hemispheres of our brains. When we’re experiencing an event, information about that event gets sent to the amygdala and hippocampus. Memory processing immediately occurs.
But what does the amygdala and hippocampus do, exactly?
The amygdala attaches emotion to an event. It’s the area of our brains associated with fear and emotion. It also triggers that “fight or flight” response we get when facing scary or stressful situations. The hippocampus, meanwhile, is responsible for processing and storing memories for later retrieval. It’s believed that sleep plays an important role with this because it’s during sleep that the hippocampus works with other parts of the brain to encode memories into the long term.
So with emotional attachment comes better recall. And, through successful neural processing, memories are strengthened even further because they become encoded in long-term memory. The neurons that fire in a specific pattern when you initially experience an event get excited in the same pattern when you later retrieve it.
All of this equates to a meaningful and memorable experience.
So next time you’re debating that new 5.5 or want to push through the crux of your 5.12 project, remember that it’s worth it. Not only will you feel accomplished whether you send or not, but you’ll have a new, strong memory stored for later retrieval. And, how fun is it to recall that time you pushed through your fear and won the mental game?
That’s how I felt with Super Tsardom, the 5.4 route I mentioned at the start of this piece, the climb that started a challenging but fun day for me at Red Rock Canyon, Nevada.
Conquering fear: It’s how we grow as climbers and humans.
The increase of Asian climbers in Toronto
In the past year, the number Asian climbers in our city and the GTA has increased. By “Asian” I’m referring to folks of Southeast-Asian ethnicity including Chinese, Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, and Filipino. I’ve observed this personally in the gyms and generally meeting new climbers at events. Apparently, it’s becoming a “thing” and us Asians are just really into climbing.
This is such great news on many levels. It means we are being seen and continuing to do what we love. It means we are trying new things and not feeling intimidated or uncomfortable. It means stereotypes are being broken. It also means climbing has evolved – from the predominantly white, male-dominated sport it once was prior to the 1980′s to a more diverse one. The sport and community, generally speaking, are welcoming of everyone and our sport has blossomed in popularity.
As an Asian climber I see this as the first step, the start of momentum of good things. This is the start of increased involvement and passion. Beginning at gyms we start by enjoying a new sport, then we progress and take it outdoors. We learn bouldering technique, how to tie knots, how to stretch our muscles properly. With enough interest encouragement, I’m hoping more of us will take up positions of leadership – setting routes, mentoring new climbers, running workshops and clinics. I’m hoping more of us will be an example by leaving no trace when outdoors, and encouraging others to do so.
Let’s keep the motion going, and continue showing up and being seen. Let’s take it a step further and strive for positions of leadership and education where, traditionally, we never existed.
Creating warm spaces: on being a queer female Asian climber
I’ve been asked lately how and why I’ve become interested in attending women’s climbing events and participating in the inclusive climbing movement as a whole. The short answer is: it’s relevant to me. The long answer is a little more complicated and requires an explanation.
The climbing scene has been a part of my life for the past 6 years. It started as an ask by a friend to try out this new thing called “indoor rock climbing” that was just getting popular at the time. I was instantly hooked and bought my first pair of shoes and harness shortly after. Starting with top-rope I worked my way through 5.6s, 5.8s (which I remember being extremely hard to break through), and up to 5.11+s. Then came lead, bouldering, and outdoor climbing. And throughout the years I connected with so many other people who shared my love of the sport.
This community is one of three that I’m part of - ones in which I feel empowered and alive. The other two are the Asian community and the LGBTQ community. In each of these groups I feel connected. Strong. Welcome. Myself. Safe. As soon as I step into a gym or head out for a day of outdoor climbing I feel comfortable and encouraged. When I catch up over tea with a friend that identifies as queer I feel like I’m with someone that gets me. When I hang out with other Asians I’m amongst family. I am at home.
As females, queer individuals, people of colour, we are underrepresented in many ares of society. We shouldn’t be. All of us should feel welcome doing things that we love to do or want to try doing for the first time. We should be able to hang out at the climbing gym and feel included, not intimidated. We should be in spaces where we can celebrate our differences. We should be comfortable helping one another out if it’s asked for and to do so with care and respect. Our environments should be encouraging - not intimidating and fearful.
I do realize that fear is a natural part of climbing. But this fear is mostly internal, psychological, and focuses on self-control and trust. Trusting yourself, your body, your abilities, your equipment, your climbing partner, the wall, the rock. Trust is something that is both strong and fragile - once it’s cracked the foundation is hard to repair. Sometimes it doesn’t take much for these cracks to form. Self-doubt, lack of confidence, bad experiences. I could go on. A lack of trust can be crippling and it’s hard to overcome, but it can be done with patience and a supportive environment.
All of us have had our share of negative uncomfortable experiences at the gym (and in life) that result in us questioning ourselves. Experiences that leave us feeling intimidated and vulnerable. When I can’t make big moves or finish certain routes due to my -2 ape index and smaller frame I’ve had these features called out as if they’re a huge detriment. I’ve been quietly dismissed by a climber who preferred to help more feminine-presenting girls after I asked for help on a route. I’ve had “come on just throw!” yelled at me when, honestly, I can’t just throw because my body doesn’t work that way. Even though I’m a strong climber these experiences are uncomfortable and instil feelings of doubt. They make you question yourself and your abilities. It shouldn’t be this way. These feelings shouldn’t be felt when you’re doing something you enjoy.
Some will say that these episodes are just unfortunate circumstances of being around inconsiderate people. That these individuals were just trying to be helpful. Or that I’m overly sensitive and need to get over it. All fair points to consider, but it doesn’t make the actions any less hurtful or crappy or real. As climbers and as people we should be more aware of ourselves and what we’re saying. We should be good to each other, respectful, and think before we act. It’s part of making our environments inclusive and ensuring everyone feels comfortable and at their best.
So back to the original question. Why do I like attending inclusive climbing events? Because they’re spaces where I feel relevant and included. Seen. Part of a whole. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. These are events where we can learn about each other, bond over our similarities and connect through our differences.
As an aside I want to emphasize that I don’t dislike men or those who aren’t queer or Asian or people of colour. I’m not suggesting that strong connections can’t be made otherwise because of course they can. For me personally, my connections are simply more instant, natural, and strong with those that are just like me and have experienced the same joys and adversities.
Before I end this post, take 10 minutes to watch this documentary about women and diversity in climbing created by REI and featuring Shelma Jun of Flash Foxy. It’s one that sums everything up so well.
Thoughts on adventure
It all begins with an idea.
Everyone craves it, but not everyone shares one universal definition or communal outcome. For some adventure is a retreat to solitude. For others it’s an escape to a restaurant an hour’s drive away. Or maybe going to a new farmer’s market for the first time. Conquering a fear of flying by going on a long international flight, watching a scary movie with the lights off. Each of these scenarios vary but can all be defined as some form of adventure.
To some, adventure is a journey and to others an experience. Some of us are addicted to the biological thrill and adrenaline rush. Others crave the feeling of achievement and accomplishment from reaching the top of a climb or the end of a hike. Then there are others who simply enjoy the visual beauty: orange leaves in the fall, the greenery of forests during the spring and the aggressive calm of mountain ranges. And then there are some people that have no idea why they want to get outside but it’s a calling that they feel compelled to answer.
Do you crave adventure to get lost? To find yourself? To find answers to questions that you can’t answer in a noisy city? How often have you felt desperate to get away during a difficult time in life, felt the desire to clear your mind and set your thoughts free?
Some of us are introverts, some extroverts and others a bit of both. But everyone at some point craves alone time to think through thoughts and wade through emotions. Quiet allows you to recharge your batteries, connect with innermost thoughts and emotions without the pressure of work or life obligations. It’s where you can think about everything or nothing at all.
There is something amazing about exposing yourself to adventure alone. But it’s also attractive sharing in the experience with others. Friends, family, a partner, a pet. Embarking on this mutual quest, engaging in activities where everyone will finish with feelings of accomplishment and motivation. Bodies filled with wonder, exhaustion, and excitement. We leave these experiences with a renewed sense of self and attraction.
The unspoken amazement that we get from the world around us. We seek these journeys to learn about life and love and ourselves. Within this solitude and in this sense of excitement, it feels like a return to home.
No, really: It’s time to stop making excuses for bad behaviour
I started listening to Kathy Karlo’s For The Love of Climbing podcast a few weeks ago, and the August 15th episode titled “Unbroken” inspired me to write this post. This powerful episode opens up conversations about vulnerability and truths within our climbing community — with those amazing people we interact with on a frequent basis, and how, just like others, our community isn’t perfect. Whether you are or are not a climber take a listen to Kathy’s podcast — especially Unbroken. It’s a story that speaks to all of us as humans that often struggle to speak our truths.
I want to talk about bad behaviour in this blog post and how often we make excuses for them. How often we, as people of habit and politeness, brush things off too easily. Sometimes bad behaviour is so minor and seemingly innocuous that we don’t even realize it’s negative the moment it happens.
Over time these microscopic actions can build up into bigger and worse scenarios. We should stop letting them go unnoticed and start setting boundaries and communicating instead. In turn, we protect and also demand respect of ourselves and our spaces.
The other week I was climbing at a gym with a few acquaintances. One of them, who I’ll call Mike, sat down next to me and playfully hit me on the thigh. Through the corner of my eye I could see that he was looking at me, watching for a reaction. I didn’t have one because I perceived it to be playful and meaningless. When I didn’t say anything he suddenly said, “I just assaulted you. What are you going to do about it?”
“Um what?” I thought to myself. I instantly felt confused, self-conscious and disgusted. A harmless action had suddenly felt creepy and inappropriate. After a few seconds I finally responded, “You just hit me in the thigh playfully, how is that assault?” He responded, “Oh, yeah, ok,”
I laughed and got up to do a climb.
“Ok that was weird but Mike is a little bit of a strange guy, I guess he may not have realized what he said,” I thought to myself. This dumb excuse was mistake number one.
The situation sat strangely with me for the rest of the night, even when Mike offered to drive me home with a mutual friend of ours. Accepting this drive back was mistake number two. After our friend had been dropped off at the subway station there was casual talk about me coming over sometime because I had missed some social events at his place last year. Being in his vehicle and feeling physically inferior and slightly weirded out, I said “yeah ok!” despite having no desire to go over ever. This was mistake number three.
I mentioned this event to some close friends the next day, who instantly reacted negatively to what had happened. It was at this point that I suddenly realized that the situation shouldn’t have been brushed off on my part so casually. I felt annoyed at myself. Why had I made excuses for his poor word choice, his poor actions, his questionable invitations? No matter how minor, stupid, or playful his intentions had been, I should have called him out on what he said and how uncomfortable it made me feel. And I had not only made excuses for why everything probably meant nothing, but I also behaved in a way that made it seem like I wasn’t affected and didn’t care.
Sometimes we make excuses for people because we don’t know them well. Or because we want to be polite, we want to keep things chill and not make a big deal about things. But some things are a big deal and need to be addressed. And if you find yourself making excuses for someone’s behaviour, chances are there’s something already wrong to begin with.
Communication is vital like in every area of life. Sometimes these small behaviours start off as micro-aggressions that have the potential to explode out of control. It’s safer to be cognizant of these realities and to draw attention them immediately if we can, rather than to ignore them. Otherwise we risk getting trapped in a spiral that we can’t break out of.
Push back, speak up, say no, yes, say something. Set limits. We all have the right to speak our minds and not feel guilty or scared about it. And in the same vein, we deserve to be treated with respect. Your physical and emotional space, your safety, your time, your self. Respect starts with us and our thoughts and behaviour towards ourselves.
Let’s stop making excuses for inappropriate behaviour. Let’s help each other to call out bad behaviour when it happens and keep each other safe.