You know that famous Stanford experiment? The one where the researchers told kids that they could either have a small reward immediately, like one Oreo cookie, or if they waited 15 minutes, they could have two Oreos? The researcher then left the room and the kid was left on his own to battle the temptation. In follow-up studies, researchers reported that the kids who were capable of delayed gratification tended to have better life outcomes, healthier BMIs, etc. Small dose of discomfort now = bigger reward later.
Nearly every part of my body hurts at the moment. Although I’d gotten into half-decent climbing shape during the past summer, that all took a nosedive this fall. Everything just got a lot busier, we reroofed our house ourselves, hours of daylight decreased along with the temperature, and climbing outings ground to a halt. So, we come to Sardinia on a climbing trip, and after two days back at climbing, what do we do? We jump on a 7b (5.12b). Maybe this is a little less crazy for Ulysse, but 7b is my max onsight (er, and red point…okay, so I’m not much into projecting). After only two tries, I had nothing left. The next morning, in a burst of fitness enthusiasm, I did a bunch of physio exercises that I haven’t done in weeks (or maybe months? Kelly, I hope you’re not reading this!) What few body parts that aren’t sore from climbing are sore from the physio.
This morning, we were both moving around the kitchen like ninety-year-olds. We shuffled, groaned, and complained of our aches and pains, but neither of us wanted to be the softy who suggested that perhaps we weren’t in any shape to climb today. After all, it’s our “schedule” to climb every second day, and the weather forecast looked bad for tomorrow. So, off we went, shuffling and groaning all the way to the base of the cliff, and flailed on two climbs that were supposed to be easy. I felt…brittle…like I could easily injure something. I threw in the towel after the second pitch. Ulysse was also suffering, but was more undecided about whether to keep climbing. As we sat having a snack, looking out over the lush, undulating hills below, the wind picked up and a dark bank of clouds began to roll towards us with surprising speed. Ok then. We’re done. I confess I was relieved. Even belaying felt like too much work.
Why did I get on that 7b in the first place? I knew better. I always suffer if I don’t ease into a sport I haven’t done for a while, and climbing is one of the most unforgiving sports I’ve encountered. But I seem to have a sort of climbing FOMO. I see Ulysse on something that looks fun and I want to try it too, even though I’m a weaker climber. I am chronically afflicted with unfounded optimism! The FOMO has another angle, though. Ulysse may be a better climber, but typically only by a few letter-grades. This allows us to overlap on many climbs, and makes it a lot easier to pick crags that we can both have fun at. I don’t want that to change. I’m like a kid tagging along with her older brother—I don’t want to get too far behind!
Years ago, a friend shared his theory of pain with me. He surmised that there is a predetermined allotment of pain that each person must endure, so the choice is up to you: either you exercise regularly, taking small hits of pain throughout your life, or you are sedentary and suffer greatly during your last years. His theory is likely full of shit, but I do find it oddly comforting when my body hurts this much from exercise.
However, this overdose of pain definitely deserves some sort of reward. I wonder if they sell Oreos in Tertenia?