Post 3, revised

Posted on by jennclimbsrocks

We visited Acharneis, “the definitive beginners crag in Athens” (which is accessible by public transport!), and it was beautiful compact limestone with wonderful north-facing views of hills and other far away crags and Athenian suburbs and also wonderful afternoon shade, (it is so beautiful and great and the views from the rock are so gorgeous, especially as the sun is setting) and it offered me one of the most emotionally trying experiences I’ve had while climbing.  When we went back the following day, it afforded me the ability to relax and recover a little from that first day.

Many people deal with fear when they’re climbing, or doing pretty much anything that they’re passionate about, and when climbing two common fears are the more physical fear of falling and the more internal fear of failure.  I’ve struggled much more with the latter in general, but recently because I haven’t been lead climbing as much I have had to re-acclimate myself to falling on a rope.  That re-acclimation is coming with practice of falls and of myriad relaxation techniques (thank you Vertical Mind book and thank you mindfulness practice), but today I was affronted with some of the most self-destructive emotion/thought patterns on the rock I’ve dealt with yet.  And by “dealt” I mean “am still dealing with.”  And I imagine this will be an ongoing goal for me.

The plan today was to visit Acharneis, “the definitive beginners crag is Athens” to send a batch of easier climbs while practicing fear-response-control techniques, specifically using different kinds of breathing to modulate my level of arousal and experimenting with ways to trigger a relaxation response in my body while I’m climbing.  We were also hoping to gain confidence clipping bolts again.  On most of these climbs were widely spaced jugs and many pockets with some crimps mixed in.  I mean, so cool. nothing like the high angle chicken heads of Smith, the closest giant sport climbing area to me in Oregon.  Then in felt like all of a sudden, I go from cruising to not being able to find anything at all to hold on to (on a 5c, what I was not-helpfully telling myself “should be my warm up”), so I took my time to look for holds, didn’t find them, and took some more time procrastinating until the point where I was just frozen in indecision and wanting not to fall and look like an incompetent ass.  And man, that move was great: right hand jug, left hand finds a crimp and bumps to a sharp mono that was solid, feet up, right hand to a pinch made by two opposing pockets, left hand to a different small pocket, move the feet again, right hand deadpoints to a positive edge, figure out how to move feet up, jug with the left hand.  Took me like 20 minutes.  I sure wish I had been having fun instead of bullying myself for being a terrible person who no one will ever love again.  So, as I’m struggling  with the moves on some of these easier climbs, my negative scripts (that my self-worth is related to my climbing abilities and that others will consider me less of a person if I fall) kicked in and began this cycle that I couldn’t get out of, so in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been doing my favorite activity with rad people, I sat in a pit of self-loading and disappointment.  Some rad local climbers had began chatting with us, and I could not appreciate it then, but we came to hang out with them over the next couple days and be introduced not only to different climbing areas around Athens, but also to traditional Greek and Crete music and dance and culture, which I could not be more excited about and grateful for!

I don’t like talking when I’m pissed off or in a bad mood, so a lot of processing happened internally, and most of that was the following morning.  I needed to find some kind  of psych, and I tried to remember in the past when I was falling and having fun, what was going through my mind.  I liked falling.  I still like falling.  I like unlocking sequences and doing moves I didn’t think I could do.  I like technical climbs and high feet.  I’m strong and I can pull off hard moves, and sometimes it will take me a lot longer and a lot more attempts than I would like.  But really, who cares?  I have nothing riding on my performance.

So the following day we went back and it took me like a year to climb a 6a+ or something, but I had fun looking for the sequence and falling and asking Naomi, who is the most patient, understanding partner ever, to take and she doesn’t love me any less.  Which is rad and normal, because my worth isn’t based on how classily or beautifully I climb something.

If anyone ever reads this that doesn’t know me, I work with really wonderful kiddos with severe mental illness who are living in a treatment facility in Oregon.  I legit do this for a living, like, working through thought and emotion and cognition and thinking skills on a basic, daily-living, daily-functioning level.  And I’m pretty good at it, sometimes, but today did not feel like one of those days.

On another climbing note, the pockets here are out of this world, which is great because my 2-finger pocket strength has improved, thanks HIT training!  Totally this is still true and I’m still totally grateful for my training!

Peace,

Jenn

Post 1

Posted on by jennclimbsrocks
Post 1: Greece

Today was our first day climbing in Athens!  However, we didn’t climb anything and instead we walked around with backpacks full of our gear and food for five hours.

Some background information:  Last winter Naomi and I decided to take a long trip somewhere, and we chose Athens.  Culturally, Greece is so full of history and mythology (both from the ancients and from my own imagination) and has shaped our own upbringing and education and aesthetics and dreams.   The current situation in Greece is a balance of this proud, seemingly immortal heritage with financial and social flux and change.  Participating in such a transitional, evolving culture is exciting and we hope to evolve our own world views and philosophies as we experience what it really means to change here.  Logistically, we want to climb some rocks, and Greece has many.  The obvious Greek climbing destination is Kalymnos, and we may travel there later in the trip, but we chose to explore the many sport climbing areas around Athens so our home base would immerse us most in the culture we were craving and give us the opportunity to really interact with it. So, we rented an apartment near downtown Athens for 20 days, and we have a week after that to go wherever we feel like exploring.

So back to present day: We arrived yesterday and decided to buy some food and wander around.  Fresh produce is for sale on many street corners in small Greek bodegas, which I’m sure there is a non-Spanish word for, where you can get rice, lentils, wine in 1.5 liter plastic bottles, and many other things you may need.  Produce, rice, lentils, and wine pretty much cover it for me.  The smell of pollution and urine that is familiar in many giant cities is present here, and clashes with the bright colors of ripe fruit and vegetables, and with the overwhelmingly warm and helpful attitudes of the folks we talked to.  Many people speak some English, and many don’t, so repeating “yasas,” “efharisto poli,” and “parakalo,” as well as continually trusting the gestures and intentions of strangers quickly became routine.  Graffiti and posters (both radical and commercial) are omnipresent and beautiful.  It’s a constant reminder of struggle and oppression in Athens and in Europe and the Middle East, and my attention is pulled from my daydreams of climbing back to the present and I appreciate that.  After walking around our neighborhood, we wander in the general direction of “most of the cool ancient stuff in Athens” and holy cow there is the freaking Parthenon on a hill right in front of us.  The transition from crowded narrow streets lined with markets and  innumerable, identical, fig-studded, decaying apartments to crowded wide streets littered with cordoned off ruins and history with tourist-friendly post-card stands is sudden and immediate for me.

As excited as I was in those moments, we made our way back to the apartment for rest before our first day of climbing.  We planned to walk to the area the closest to downtown Athens, Iera Odos, which would be about 1.5-2 hours each way and be really hot in the middle of the day.  This morning, with half Greek and half kind of phonetic directions that we had gotten from the internet in our apartment written on a piece of paper, we left our apartment and immediately went the wrong way, several times.  Then we figured out which way was north, tried again, and were much more successful, until we couldn’t find the streets anymore and realized we missed another turn.  After consulting with several nice folks on the street who didn’t speak English and using a really wonderful person’s phone in one of a shockingly large number of bakeries, we got new directions.  Again, we immediately couldn’t find the streets we needed.  We walked by a cemetery, devoid of grass like most of Athens but full of ornate stone grave markers and most with colorful flowers, used their tiny restroom, and deliberated in the company of a herd of cats.  (Tune in later for more detailed information on the stray cat scene in Athens.)  We had been gone over 3.5 hours and were tired and annoyed and it was hot (and it turns out we weren’t even really that close to the climbing, just impressively lost and inefficient) and we called it a day.  Getting home was much easier since we knew where we were going.  On our way we got a sim card for Naomi’s phone so we could try again tomorrow with the help of maps on the internet that we can access from anywhere.

Hopefully sometime soon I’ll be able to write about climbing I’ve actually managed to do during this fancy international climbing trip.  That would be rad.  Maybe next time.  Maybe not next time.  We’ll just have to see.

Peace,

Jenn