Something magical happened yesterday. I was climbing. doing an intermediate route I’d already tried and finished a few times. I’d already done some easy routes, as well as some challenging ones. There was nothing particularly special about this one, except that I always had a few moves that were always problematic, but I’d always managed to somehow pull through.
Yet this time was different. Magical. I just took a deep breath and started climbing, without even pre-planning the route, one move after another, one move after another until I realized that I was suddenly at the top, without having had the initial struggles, the anxiety certain holds used to give me, or the worry of not having enough strength to make it through. It’s this great feeling of flow, where one move naturally follows the previous one, where you feel energized rather than drained, where nothing outside the move itself matters, when there are no worries, stress, struggles, or pain.
Being in the moment, the naturalness of the moves, the joy of realizing you’re at the top, it all adds up to one of the greatest natural highs. I think I’m starting to appreciate climbing even more. I know this state of flow won’t happen on all routes, or even all the time. It’s all about the perfect moment of immersion in what you’re doing. It’s bliss. It’s perfection. It’s worth pursuing.