Everything falls into place perfectly. My friend Jirka has been hanging around Tarragona for a while; he picks me up at Barcelona airport and we head for Siurana and Margalef. I've climbed in El Chorro and done the Basque Country, but I've never been here. So expectations are high. Before flying out I got outside to boulder a few times and sent a couple of 7Cs and 7C+s, so I dare say I've got the power. My endurance has always been much worse, but I'm counting on Catalonia having some shorter, punchy routes too, which are the kind I like.
First warm-up day – the morning is really cold, but with the first rays you start to perk up and the sun recharges your human batteries. A few first routes, getting to know the rock, and the climbing feels quite nice. We spend another two days in Siurana and I slowly start to feel that the climbing isn't going to click. I'm floundering on routes way below my max and messing up things I'd normally climb with ease. I suggest to Jirka a change of scene and a move to Margalef – where we spend the rest of our climbing days. I try routes at a grade that should be my max and whose style should suit me. But I can't make a single move on them. What's going on? What's wrong with me? All around I see climbers from all over the world climbing exactly THOSE grades without the slightest problem. I don't get it! My mood drops like shares on Black Friday and my frustration skyrockets. I've told myself a few times, and I know, that it's not just about the numbers but about enjoying a beautiful day on the rock with a friend. On the other hand, I enjoy pushing my physical and mental limits and looking for challenges.
I think to myself that I could allow myself the luxury of having shortcomings for a while, and after a time find my balance again, so that my disrupted order can be restored. But in eight climbing days in Spain I climbed fewer routes than in a weekend in the Jura. Not to mention the grades. Suddenly it just won't go. Something got stuck somewhere, something broke somewhere. My inner voice invites me to give up and urges me to accept defeat. I feel drained, disappointed, useless and tired. Do I need a break? A breather? Everyone has their own approach to life, their own pace, their own goals.
I didn't manage to find my motivation again during that Spanish trip, and I'm still not managing to. How do you start believing in yourself again? How do you get that fuel back, the drive for your head and mind? Is it about getting rid of the pressure in your head? That: "Go on! Fight! You have to!" Sometimes you probably need to set your ego aside and let things flow, let them come by themselves. You can train your body and your mind, but pushing your mind can often be counterproductive. Sometimes we're pushed by the people around us too, by the performances of others we want to match, and that's exactly what ties us down. Losing is always unpleasant. But what would it be like if it didn't exist? Would it be better?
So why am I actually writing this? I know that whatever stands in the way is also part of the way, and that the result itself should be on the same emotional wavelength as the journey to it. Sending a route is a fleeting joy. It lasts a week, a month… and after a while you're dissatisfied again and looking for a challenge. Of course we'd like MORE, MORE, 7C, 8C, 9C... Don't judge success or failure purely by performance, but see it as a process of self-discovery and self-improvement. The most important thing is how you feel. The only person judging you is you. Sometimes you have to accept yourself and your circumstances as they are. Defeats will keep coming and they'll always be an emotional blow. Upset, fatigue, chaos – and there's a lesson to be learnt from it. A lesson from defeat. Everything we go through is part of who we are; it's all up to us. If you want to achieve something too badly, it tends to tie you down. But if you love the thing itself, the movement itself – CLIMBING, which is my lifelong passion, my way of life – then it's easier to turn a crisis into a new opportunity.
