I Can't Quit You...

When she left me, she left with my heart. Just like a shitty country music song, I was left crying in the middle of the night. Romantic movie style I dropped down to my knees and cursed the gods that had left me heartbroken and alone. Years later when I had the misfortune of seeing her in a bar, I ran the other way. I tore ass out of there like some other situational phrase of humor.

In high school, I fell asleep during a biology exam, not the class, but the actual half of my grade final exam. Why? Because that class sucked shit and was boring as hell. In actuality, Biology and I didn’t get along, in fact I rarely understood the material no matter how hard I tried. When I was told I had to take a science in undergrad I signed up for geology, the farthest thing from a living organisms as possible.

I have had shitty jobs where the boss is an asshole, the co-workers are idiots and the customers the lowest form of human wreckage. Still I showed up every day, almost on time, did a good job until the day I could quit in a blaze of glory. Certain people have come into my life that I will never talk with again. They were so ingrained in their stupidity and self-obsessions that I could only handle one meeting. Cow intestines, I tried them once and never again will they cross my palette. If I can help it I’ll never eat another scallop or oyster again for as long as I live.

Today, I fell off of a v3. Not because of shit on my shoes, not because of the sun in my eyes, not because of anything tangible other than my own inability to accomplish the moves. After that particular failure, I fell off a v6 and a v10. The only thing I topped out was my warm up. I was cold for most of the day. My middle finger on my right hand hurt like I was being stabbed by tiny elves of pain who only attack digits. I had pretty bad day of climbing, but unlike all my other painful experiences, I will go climbing again tomorrow.

Every climber has spoken of the hunger, the need, or the addiction. In my last post, I wrote about how this suffocation of reason unites us as friends. We as climbers are idiots first and foremost. In our daily lives we elect to continually try something that hurts us so bad. Hurt both our physical and emotional beings. My pride is hurt when I cannot do something that on other days I send so easily. I nurse hurt fingers, tweaked wrists and scraped knuckles on a weekly basis. We don't do this, as humans we are programmed to avoid things that continually hurt us. People who suffer from sea sickness tend not to be sailors. People with broken hearts tend not to trust again. We are designed to fear what has once hurt us. However, climbers have altered our evolutionary dna and seek out that which hurts us the most.

“Insanity is repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results.” – Narcotics Anonymous. Nothing sums up the mental deficiency we as climbers have more than this quote. Not to mention look at its source, a rehab manual. The holds are brushed, the shoes are clean, the climber flows through the beginning moves, they reach the crux, they fire, right finger tips find the depressions. The left arm flexes as the foot pushes out. “pop!” Down the climber goes, fearing failure, fearing the knowledge they won’t get their high, the climber will chalk their hands, make the moves and fire the crux again and again and again and again and again and again and again. They will get pissed, they’ll throw a shoe. They’ll say they are done, they’ll get back on it and fall. A finger tip splits, tape is sought, a bloody trail marks the path of their failures. Still though they will try and if the muscles tire, the daylight fades, or the real world calls them away they will return to repeat the process all over again.

We clinically are insane.

Tomorrow, I will wake up. I will do my adult dance of work, class, and bills. I will look at the backs of my hands and wonder what my co-workers think about my bloody knuckles. I chuckle as a fingerprint reader doesn't register my finger because it’s so worn down. I will close my eyes from time to time and I’ll get my blood pressure up. My palms will sweat and my failures on the rock will play through my head making me close my fingers in frustration. But what I won’t do is quit. I go all Brokeback when it comes to climbing, I just can’t quit you. So, I’ll tie my shoes, chalk my hands and climb right into the crazy house. Keep the slimy seafood, the self-righteous assholes and Biology, I’ll never go back to that, but climbing with all of its pain, all I can say is, I’ll see you tomorrow...