Every year I find myself in the same place; ending the previous season, taking some time off to rock climb, and then back into training for the next year’s round (of competitions and winter climbing). It’s a cycle I’ve been following for a few years now-train, climb, compete, repeat. It’s been awesome and I’ve seen a certain level of success that I thought never to be possible. I’ve worked really hard to have been given the opportunity to travel the world and do what I love doing most…to climb. But It hasn’t been an easy road; the sacrifice of time, juggling my climbing career and my family all the while trying to find the balance in my sanity. And let me tell you…it’s been of great effort to hold it all together. Near on every day filled with “To-Do’s” of all sorts, demanding time and energy, commitment at the highest rate. Go ahead, just ask me how many cans of Red Bull I drink to make it all possible.
A couple of months ago, when i Began “this year’s training”, during a session, a coach I work with attached a tag line to a picture he took of me, “Take the ferocity, take the focus, and pour it into this…every day.” I read a lot of motivational content, study mental toughness books, and even work with a sports psychologist, but that quote, the ferocity, it rung so loud in my head, that it did something strange…it changed something, even broke something. Saying it over and over in my head, to pour “it” into this every day. What was “it”, what did that quote really mean to me, in fact…the better question…what was it doing to me?
Mentally I felt like someone had just removed the shackles from my repetitive cycle that I was caught in. A routine that had carried me through the last several years had been overtaken by a deeper willingness, a deeper passion, and more drive than I had ever experienced before. A collaboration between coaches (physical and mental), my family, friends, we all had a new attitude that had reached a heightened awareness of what was actually attainable. Last year I experienced the most success in my climbing journey: I won the North American championships, placed 4th in a world cup, and climbed my hardest route (outside) to-date. Wow. Total success. Or was it?
Recently I posed the question on Facebook, “What does ‘Success’ mean to you?” The answers came from every direction with all sorts of ideas. Everything from “winning” to “being happy”. Both equally right in there own sense, and for me…both applicable to my own personal definition of success. But recently that word has transformed into a more personal meaning. Success to me is it’s own form of winning, it’s own form of a podium. Would I feel successful standing on top of a podium? Yes, and I have felt that. But the podium, or “winning” isn’t the success, where as the success for me is the process. Winning is just the by-product. I’ve come to realize that my success is the ultimate effort. Not to be confused with the ultimate sacrifice. These to facets are different. My ultimate effort is full-heatedly believing that I poured every ounce of energy into a task at hand, and then some. Doing that, and knowing you did it, that’s the end of the rainbow…that’s the pot of gold.
Hearing that quote, “Take the ferocity….”, it’s like it opened a door within me that gave way to untapped energy. A resource I knew not of, but that was waiting for the right time to be channeled towards a specific direction or goal. Yes, as I said, last year was successful…to an extent, but deep down I knew there was more, more I could do, more I could try, more I could give. I knew deep down I hadn’t given it “my all”, the ultimate if you will. I could feel that there was still reserve energy but didn’t know how to get to it, how to channel it. Until now.
We took the time to understand. Breaking down the previous cycle of how; the program for preparation‑things needed to be changed, re-invented, and thought through very carefully to how the “absolute” could be attained. My coaches and I analyzed previous years, broke down the errors, weaknesses, and reasonings behind falling short of certain goals. Many were clear, some still unknown, but what was apparent…change was of the utmost. And change? That was associated with me, especially geared towards my “ultimate” (willingness). How bad did I “really” want it? How hard was i truly willing to push (physically and mentally)? Did I have that? The push?
It meant starting earlier; more focus on strength, dynamic technical climbing, more time route setting (focusing on every movement possible), it meant tempo (learning how to climb fast- technically with precision), not necessarily more time per say, but utilizing my time with a new focus, and new effort‑”the ferocity”. It meant “taking the ferocity, the focus, and pouring it into this…every day.” For me to reach my ultimate success, I need to believe in a level of energy that’s beyond my horizon. But that’s what it takes (for me anyways). For me to be successful I need to believe in the impossible. I need to believe that I’m capable of the impossible. There’s a lot on my plate for this coming winter, with competitions and personal climbing goals. To get through it all, I need to go beyond what I thought was my ultimate, and rise to a new level of “try hard”.
It’s a new season, there’s a new focus.
(#risetotheabsolute is a hashtag i created that’s linked to my push for “ultimate success”. You can use the hashtag on Instagram, twitter, and Facebook)
Climbing has become part of my daily routine. Whether training, climbing, or competing, with every hour–physically or mentally, climbing plays a role. I was once asked, “Why do you love climbing?” And the only response i could come up with was, “because without it, I feel short of breath”.
My focus is mixed climbing competitions. I travel the world every winter competing for Canada on the World Cup Ice Climbing Tour. I prepare months in advance in becoming ready to climb at my best. Throughout the “off season” I love to rock climb, spending most nights at my local crag or traveling to amazing places like Wyoming, Las Vegas, Kentucky, and my favourite: The Bow Valley (Canmore, AB).
Over the years I’ve found that in order to be fitted with readiness, you must train…and train a lot. From that I’ve built “the machine” in my backyard. Back there; it’s my fortress of solitude…where i learn, re-group, and try real hard. The backyard is outfitted with a 30ft Arch, bouldering walls/cave, and many training apparatuses.
What I do, where I go, all of it wouldn’t be possible without the support of my amazing family, and sponsors–those who believe in my dream and encourage me daily to keep going after it.