”The best part of climbing is when it all clicks and gravity ceases to exist.” -Chris Sharma

I’m almost there. Only a few holds left and then I’m at the top. My forearms are on fire but I must keep going. I pause and take five deep breaths, picturing all the oxygen reinvigorating my sore muscles. “Fear is the mind-killer” is the mantra I tell myself as I make the last few moves. I’m on an overhang so every move feels like it exponentially drains my energy. But finally, I’m there. I made it. I breathe a sigh of both relief and satisfaction as I’m slowly belayed back down to the ground.

One of the reasons why I love climbing is because when I’m up there on the wall, I’m not thinking about all of the daily stresses of life. It all disappears. My mind and body are just completely connected and the only thing that matters is my place on the wall. It wasn’t always like this though. The first time I climbed I was terrified. I’ve always been afraid of heights so just knowing there was no flat surface underneath me was almost paralyzing. I first climbed with a group of friends at the Pacific Edge climbing gym in Santa Cruz (which also happens to be where climbing legend Chris Sharma got his start). I basically freaked out the second I got up on the wall, which was a little embarrassing. But after some reassurance by my belayer that I was perfectly safe, I calmed down and just went for it. After sending a couple routes I started to feel more comfortable and was even considering getting a membership at the gym. But then, Covid hit and I completely forgot about climbing for at least two years. It wasn’t until I started grad school that I picked it back up again and actually turned it into a real hobby.

I started climbing here at Penn State with a few friends from my department. At first, I wasn’t climbing consistently enough to realize how absolute garbage rental shoes are. But as my cadence increased to going climbing two times a week, I finally caved and bought my first pair of climbing shoes. That was when the game changed. I was able to climb a whole grade higher than I had before and I felt unstoppable. I started to learn basic climbing technique, study the “beta” of each route, and focused on challenging myself with harder routes. I then started to notice that there’s a certain point where your mind just sort of turns off. All that exists is the wall and rest of the reality just fades into the periphery. This mental aspect of climbing is one of the things that always draws me to keep going back.

Of course, as true with any sport or hobby, there are challenging days as well. One day my muscles will just feel like noodles and I won’t be able to climb even my warm-up routes. One day I might get so fed up with a route that I’ve been stuck on for weeks and just rage quit (there actually used to be a route at my gym called “Rage Quit”, which really lived up to its name). Or other times I’ll bang up an elbow or a knee. But nothing beats the feeling of having a day where I finally send a project route I’ve been working on for a long time. No matter the outcome, after a long day I always look forward to coming to the gym, going through the simple motions of tying rope, belaying, having a good laugh with my friends, and encouraging each other to keep going. Or friendly trash-talking, there’s a lot of that too. And whenever I come with stress, anxiety, or sadness, I forget about it and leave it on the wall.

Pacific Edge, Santa Cruz

Triangle Rock Club, Richmond

Climbng wall at Penn State, of which I am a regular