Author: Taylor Fragomeni

This is the first of what I hope will be many guest posts to the blog. If you’ve ever clicked around on my page of training options, you may have come across one of my (extensive) forms intended to help me get to know new and potential clients. I like to have as much information as I possibly can as soon as I possibly can.

When Adam Wernham filled out the form for a 6-week custom plan, I was in awe of his answers. We’re not all writers like Adam, but what struck me wasn’t his careful crafting of words; it was the level of self awareness and candid reflection. Adam leaned into this vulnerability that we are all taught not to expect of men.

When I first started HC, I mistakenly assumed that my approach would resonate more with women. After all, the patriarchal threads of our society weave women as (overly) emotional beings while men are expected to fit the mold of ‘strong.’ I like to talk about feelings as part of my coaching, and I guess I thought high performing male boulderers would be the last demographic seeking me out, because I’m not immune to making assumptions about people any more than the next person.

Vulnerability is high on my values list, and watching several of my male clients unfold these complex emotional landscapes to a near stranger has been such a gift, learning experience, and in a lot of ways, a source of hope and inspiration.

In the particular intake form that Adam filled out, one of the questions reads “How does your body and your relationship with your body influence your climbing?” As part of his response to this question, he wrote “I feel like there’s this juxtaposition between the try-hard, burly, sort of macho vibe of hard bouldering and the tenderness it takes to care for my body with loving attention.”

And so, the idea for this blog post was born. I’m super grateful to Adam for taking the time to write out his thoughts and share his experience.

Enough from me! Keep scrolling to hear from Adam.

Train Hard, Rest Hard(er?)

When I started climbing, I was in my freshman year of college at UC Santa Cruz. I was 19. I would get out of class every day, rush home, shove something vaguely resembling food into my mouth, and bike across town to the gym – where I’d usually climb for 5 or 6 hours until the gym closed. Then it was back on the bike, to my favorite taqueria where I’d ravenously devour an al pastor burrito the size of my (still quite underdeveloped) forearm. Bike home, do my homework (read: watch the same video of Sharma climbing Witness the Fitness for the 200th time), and then off to bed before doing it all over again. I probably climbed 30 hours a week during those first couple of years.

I had no idea what I was doing when it came to training, injury prevention, nutrition, or anything resembling ‘self-care’. All I knew was that I was psyched to get stronger, and I figured the more I climbed and the harder I pushed my body, the stronger I’d get. I’d love to say that this strategy worked for my young, resilient body – but looking back, I can see how misguided I really was. During my first few years of climbing, I was plagued by injuries ranging from ruptured finger pullies to persistent elbow tendonitis, some of which set me back several months. And believe it or not, I don’t think I ever connected the dots between my a muerte approach to climbing and ‘training’, and my apparent bad luck with near-constant injury.

Honestly, I can’t blame my past self for this attitude. Everything I was absorbing from climbing culture and media, particularly the male bouldering scene, was screaming at me to push my body harder. Don’t get me wrong – trying hard and finding my limits remains one of my favorite aspects of climbing. Ask any of my climbing partners, and you can confirm that screaming my face off mid-crux and ‘blacking out’ to the point that I can’t remember my beta on an 8-move boulder are routine occurrences for me. But without bringing these aspects of climbing into balance, I ended up in a cycle that was all about try-hard, and I missed many equally important elements of actually climbing hard. 

When I refer to bringing balance to our climbing, I’m talking about putting just as much effort towards taking care of our bodies as we do towards pushing their limits. When Dani Andrada says a muerte, he’s saying we should give the climb absolutely everything we have, when we’re on the rock. He’s not telling us to push and push without ever resting or slowing down. For every minute we spend trying hard projects, doing crunches, or pulling on the campus board, there’s a minute we can spend making nourishing food, self-massaging, stretching, or sleeping. It’s taken me 8 years to learn that what I do with my rest days is just as, if not more, impactful upon my growth as a climber (and a person) as what I do on climbing and training days. 

Another really important key to finding this balance is to shift focus from what we do to how and why we’re doing it. It’s all too easy to take a hyper-masculine, performance-focused mindset and pivot it towards aspects of self-care like nutrition and rest.

Regimenting, pushing, and restricting yourself in order to meet your self-care goals is a hell of a lot different than learning to relate to your body in a loving way.

This is a complicated concept and something that is often a lot easier said than done. I’ve had quite a long journey learning to relate to my body as a vessel and home to be cared for and nourished, rather than a machine to be exploited and abused. I’m still learning how to do this. 

You don’t need to have hair down to your ass and a copy of the Tao Te Ching next to your toilet to take this advice to heart, although I have both and they don’t seem to hurt. Don’t lie to yourself. Although I’m writing this article with your holistic well-being in mind, I’m also writing it with your v12 project in mind. We all want to climb harder, and if your climbing performance is the most motivating thing for you, allow that to be true. Still, if we want our cars to drive fast and not break down, do we constantly push them to their limits in order to achieve this? No, we take time replacing old parts, changing oil, and listening for odd noises. We give them the gift of our attention, and determine what kind of care they need in order to optimize their performance. That’s all I’m suggesting you do for your body.

I wish I could tell my 19-year-old self these things. I wish I could tell myself that behind the scenes of that video of Sharma going a muerte on Witness the Fitness, there were probably so many rest days, so much sleep, so much healthy food, and so much relaxation and regeneration happening. I wish I could tell myself that taking care of my body wouldn’t make me ‘soft’. Instead, I’m telling you – and in doing so, I’m reminding myself:

When I take care of my body, it takes care of me.

Though I suspect I’ve struggled with some periods of depression and anxiety since my teens, I never really gained the language to express them until the last couple of years. All I can remember, really, is being caught in these storms of emotion that turned me irritable and impatient and unkind in their wake.

The most challenging part now is accepting the demise from those storms. It’s witnessing what they uncover, judgement free, and integrating to some form of betterment.

Summer 2019

From 2017 to 2019, I spent most of August in Ten Sleep Canyon, WY. This dolomite-lined canyon has been an indomitable presence in my development as a sport climber. It was the place where I climbed most of my “firsts” from 10c all the way to 13b. It has been my refuge, my safe place, my second home to zip away to on weekends.

Because of this, a big part of me expected that canyon to dissipate the extreme anxiety I was battling the summer of 2019.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t. A fine line exists between escapism and healing time in nature, and I was unintentionally erring on the side of escape. I just wanted to outrun the undulations of emotion and enjoy some time outside touching my favorite rock.

Therapy and Digging into Origins of Exiles

Earlier that summer, before my annual month-ish long trip to Ten Sleep, at my wits end, I decided to try therapy. I felt like I was reeling out of control and lacked the tools to recenter myself. I was recovering from a SLAP tear in my left shoulder and attending weekly physical therapy appointments, and scheduled my [mental] therapy for the same days.

I joked that Wednesdays were treatment days for body and mind.

In early sessions, I learned the term “exiles” from my therapist. He handed me a book to read called “You Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For.” I found myself rolling my eyes (metaphorically) at the title and cover, but progressed to reading it with a voracious appetite, finding that it may have been written specifically for me.

Exiles are the parts of us that we choose to suppress and hide. They are the dark spaces that we wish would lighten and simultaneously seek to obscure, even as they scream to control the decisions we make and the interactions we have and the reactions we wield.

I remember sitting on the new couch in the therapist’s office, hugging a pillow. He was sitting across from me with a whiteboard and a marker, ready to dig into my exiles. Ready to identify them.

Pressure to be Perfect. Need for Control. Anxiousness. Frustration. The list was longer, but these were the ring leaders. The first two were, or are, the most vehement in my life. They are the ones that drive the others, and that remain even as I’ve tried to “chill out” and “be cool;” social pressures that are put on many women in the outdoor industry (and elsewhere) with unattractive or uncomfortable feelings that well up to the surface.

We concluded the session with the assignment of deciphering the origins of the exiles, to better understand why they exist. Understanding origins provides us with clarity and compassion, even in the case of examining the parts of ourselves of which we are ashamed.

For me, the Pressure to be Perfect and Need for Control feed off of one another. They are rooted in my childhood, where “successes” were applauded regardless of how I got there and failures were either ignored or deemed personal attestations to inadequacy.

And that’s why I needed control.

If I could control the situation, I could be the success instead of the failure. This is hallmark fixed mindset, rooted deep into my core due to my upbringing. And ironically, as I preached the opposite to the kids I was coaching, I was tripping over all those feelings I had swept under the rug for years.

And so, on that trip to Ten Sleep, I spent lazy mornings scribbling origin stories in my journal. Learning why those pressures for perfection and inclinations for control came to be and pondering whether I could live with them. Hoping on hope I could learn to see them as entities somewhat outside of myself, to view them more objectively and empathetically, as the author of “You Are…” suggests.

Rising Performance through an Anxiety Rollercoaster

Some days I would feel empowered. I would say, “see, I am trying to be better. I am trying to love myself.” I was showing myself that I was worth investing in by at least trying to follow through on therapy. To apply new tools.

But other days, I was frustrated at a level that made my skin crawl. That made it hard to sit still but difficult to control my movements, as the frustration at feeling what I felt burst from me in little fire-fights.

I was climbing well. Really well, considering I had torn my labrum badly enough to raise the question of surgery 6 months before and had taken a few of those 6 months off from climbing entirely. I felt strong and fluid on the rock, but my mind was buzzing at a level that felt insurmountable some days.

But I was there to climb, so I did.

The thing is, sending routes near my previous limit that I had had no expectation of even trying in the wake of my injury, wasn’t making me feel better.

Looking back I can see that this was a good thing. I was peeling my self worth away from my climbing and strengthening my identity to contain more facets than are provided purely through athletic performance.

Crown Prince

This route went down on the crest of a wave of anxiety that was threatening to cause me to have a full on meltdown in front of friends, and maybe strangers.

The day I sent this climb, I was so deep in the hole that I didn’t even want to be at the crag. Like, I really didn’t want to be there. I was exhausted and irritated and all I could see in my near future was curling up in a ball in defeat in my tiny, windowless van where no one could see me.

I warmed up on the middle of the route. I tried the opening boulder a few times, failing to execute the powerful moves. I took a power nap on my pack, defeated and exhausted as my two partners explored a nearby route.

I thought, “one more go or so, I guess.” And my friend made we yell at the base of the climb with him to get me psyched enough to pull out all the stops on the opening boulder problem. That little bit of yelling quelled some of the rising anxieties and allowed me to execute the boulder.

I talked to myself through the middle of the route and at the rest before the redpoint crux, hoping to remind myself that I was capable. That I just needed to stand up and stay tight.

I found myself clipping the chains, though not in a way I’ve ever experienced. As I slapped the rope through the draw and leaned back into my harness, my head fell into my hands and tears welled up a little. And I was wholly overwhelmed. Shocked and thankful that at this point in my shoulder recovery I was able to climb this route. But mostly just relieved that I didn’t have to fight anymore.

That was maybe the most powerful aspect. I always enjoy fighting for a send, but in conjunction with having to fight to be content with my exiles, it felt like too much.

Sport as a Tool

Perhaps the most lasting reinforcement from that day was that climbing serves as mirror, lens, and fertile ground.

As mirror, it can reflect the journey of healing, both physically and mentally.

As lens, it can magnify strengths and shortcomings, allowing for examination and alteration.

As fertile ground it weathers the extremes of drought and over saturation and yields the necessary components for growth.

You just have to listen. Observe yourself and your reactions without judging, which, yes, is just as hard as it sounds and not nearly as simple. But it gets a little easier, not every time, but over time.

Ten Sleep Canyon is on the ancestral lands of the Apsaalooké (Crow), Cheyenne, and Očeti Šakówin (Sioux) tribes.

Balance is a word that has been bouncing around my head quite a lot lately. It’s this overarching concept that feels ethereal and abstract yet wholly vital to achieve some level of content.

Healthy balances give life a little more flow and allow more space for growth across multiple variables. As with most things, this applies to climbing as well.

There’s really no wrong way to go about climbing. It’s all undeniably personal. The key is to leverage your methods to move towards your goals, whether those goals are to climb harder, have more fun, or build more meaningful partnerships. Which, by the way, are all equally valid goals to have.

If you are someone who wants to push your grade, you may be more tempted to engage in a sustained pursuit of the next highest number. While trying hard routes is fundamental in the pursuit of climbing hard routes, you may actually be slowing your progress if that’s all you ever do with your precious days on rock.

Photos by Jules Jimreivat – Land of the Niitsítpiis-stahkoii, Apsaalooké, and Salish Kootenai

In solely seeking out the “next hardest” route you can send, you inherently will choose routes that cater to your style and strengths. Now, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing if your goal is to just tick the box of the next grade, but if you want to be a better climber and have the ability to get on more routes at whatever crag you roll up to, you’re going to need a more solid foundation.

Building Pyramids

For those who are unfamiliar with this concept, building a pyramid involves creating a base of climbs such that the next tier (next highest grade) is built upon the previous (next lowest) grade. Traditionally, these follow a 8-4-2-1 scheme, where you’re meant to complete 8 in your base grade and work up to 1 at your limit. This scheme is outlined in Eric Horst‘s How to Climb 5.12 training manual. You can see Kris Hampton’s interpretation of Eric’s pyramid on the Power Company Climbing blog.

Building a base is vital to becoming a stronger and better climber, and anyone that tells you otherwise is doing you a disservice. Climbing is a skill sport. Not building a base is not going to help you.

It’s Really More of a Triangle Anyway

Personally, I’ve always pictured a sort of abstract triangle rather than a 3 dimensional pyramid in my head, so let’s introduce the Dynamic Triangle Method. That’s just my silly name for it, but the point is that there is some flexibility here, which I think is important for longevity and allows for some psych-following.

Triangles are stable shapes, and that’s why we use them when talking about base building. With this method, as long as you have more sends in the tier below, you have the green light to step up to the next tier. Having the same number in successive tiers would be somewhat of a yellow light situation, while having less in a lower tier is a red light. You can potentially run it with no consequences, but you may consider slowing down for a minute.

Striking a Balance

Now, it’s of course possible to use the pyramid as a sort of shield by building whole layers up before ever touching the next grade. Those that are afraid of the inherent failure that comes with pushing limits may use a classic pyramid as an excuse to not try harder. For example, “oh, I can’t try this 11c because I haven’t climbed enough 11b’s yet.” Whatever “enough” even means, and especially if “enough” means “more than two.”

At the opposite end of the spectrum, not building a pyramid at all is likely to come back to bite you. Climbing is a skill sport. The more climbs you expose yourself too, the more moves you will learn. This is called building a movement vocabulary, and it’s not unlike learning a new language. The more moves (words) you learn, the closer you are to fluency. Jumping into 5.13 when you’re not 5.12a-fluent is akin to traveling to a foreign-to-you country where the only phrases you know in the native tongue are “hello,” “thank you,” and “where’s the bathroom.” You can do it, but that method is likely to provide a bit more friction than if you had studied up before your trip. It is also likely to create more emotional stress around your climbing and leave you more exposed to injury and burn out.

The Value of Practicing Sending

Projecting is challenging in more than just the physical ways. Mental strength is often more uncomfortable and less fun to invest in while simultaneously (maybe inconveniently) being more imperative to success.

My partner, as a much more experienced climber, introduced me to the idea of practicing projecting this year, and it has been the most beneficial thing I have ever done for my climbing. I’ll provide more on my personal experience with this in a separate blog post, but here’s the thing…

If you are only ever limit projecting, you don’t get to practice the process of projecting through completion nearly as often. Odds are, if you are only working routes at your absolute limit, you are sending zero to maybe two times per year. If you’re sending more than that, congrats, and also, you are probably not on routes at your limit.

If you practice sending on routes that are just below your max (1-3 grades or so), you get to work through the mental pieces of projecting, through completion, far more frequently. You locate your performance switch and what triggers it and you learn how to flip it on demand without spending redpoint attempts working out the mental jitters.

Work on one mega proj each season or year, and you will miss out on this opportunity. Yes, you may go through it on that route, but all routes are not created equal. A hard bouldery intro to easy climbing does not feel the same – mentally or physically – as 80 feet of pumpy 11c climbing capped with a V5 deadpoint crux.

Practice sending on a variety of routes that are challenging but not limit-caliber and you will learn to navigate it all. And you know what? Sending is fun. I’m all for the growth mindset and embracing failure, but if you can clip some chains along the way, it’s going to be good for your climbing and it will help you stay more motivated. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s actually lots that is right with it if you’re trying to improve your climbing.

Now What?

This is a cursory argument for building a base, but not all bases are built the same. If you want some guidance on your specific situation, drop us a line. We’re here to help.

I know, I know, this sounds like the title of a relationship blog post. But bear with me. Climbing partnerships are relationships. They require trust and communication and holding space in vulnerable moments. You quite literally are placing your life in the hands of your partner every time you tie in for a lead. That’s pretty powerful stuff.

I think we can all recognize the effect that our partnerships have on our climbing from a day to day basis. Energies don’t usually occur in a vacuum. Your attitude is likely to affect your partner, and vice versa.

There are lots of ways to strengthen our climbing partnerships: effective communication, empathy, care, accountability. There are also ways that we can potentially undermine those efforts. So much of this is personal and will vary from partnership to partnership, but the following items are some of the most common behaviors we see that could be harmful.

Diminishing Success

I’m willing to bet we have all said or thought something that has this effect. You are diminishing success if you reattribute someone’s success to something that is outside of their control. While this is certainly not ill intentioned for some, it is an ego driven reflex for others. The thing is, intentions never negate impact, and the impact of this action is not good.

I have most frequently heard these success-diminishing comments at the gym and crag following hard sends by youth climbers and women, but they can certainly apply to anyone.

“Yeah, well your hands are small, so I bet those crimps are like jugs to you.”
“You’re light, so it’s easier for you.”
“Well, that climb is definitely soft for you since you’re so tall.”

Like I said, these comments aren’t always steeped in mal-intent, but they are problematic. Yes, our bodies do afford us certain advantages and disadvantages in climbing, but it’s not up to you to decide what those are for other people, especially right after they have success and haven’t asked for your opinion on the climb’s personal difficulty.

When you diminish the success of your climbing partner, you are telling them that (a) large parts of their experience (effort, mental strength, etc.) are invalid or unimportant and (b) that you are viewing them as competition rather than as a partner. Good climbing partnerships elevate both parties involved.

If you want stronger, safer climbing partnerships, try to focus on effort and process and catch yourself in those moments of diminishing success. This is something I’d LOVE to hear more of in the climbing community anyway. Sending hard routes is great and all, but I would wager that most of us are addicted to the process of challenging ourselves, whether we realize it or not. What would happen to our athletic atmosphere if we collectively praised positive processes over outcome? I’ll leave that question for you to reflect on.

“Wow, it was so rad to watch how hard you tried on that pitch.”
“I really loved watching how well you played with pace on that climb.”
“It was so cool how you charged through that runout with no hesitation.”
“I could see that you were nervous there, but you kept trying and that was really inspiring.”

These are the comments that give your partner warm and fuzzy feelings and let them be seen as a whole human, rather than just a physical being.

Indefinitely Assuming the Leadership Role

This one is especially important in climbing partnerships in which a social power dynamic exists (re: gender, race, sexuality, etc) or a significant difference in experience prevails. The most frequent iteration of this I’ve experienced and can speak to is the prevalent “girlfriend” climber trope in which the female climber is assumed or expected to follow around their male partner.

Now, you may be saying “but what if he’s teaching her how to climb and she doesn’t know as much?” That may very well be the case, but we can ALL learn things from one another. And why should her being new mean that she has no sense of agency to choose the climbs she gets on? Why would you assume she doesn’t ever want to lead or hang her own draws?

At it’s core and in all iterations, this is an issue of empowerment. People are more likely to express their opinions and assert their agency when they feel they are in safe environments where they will be heard and supported.

In situations with social power or experience differentials, a lack of empowerment makes it at least 10 times harder for the person with less power to speak up. This is a product of social conditioning, and none of us is exempt.

So, what do you do if you are in the position of greater power in a climbing partnership?

Ask your partner questions about their objectives for the day and support them in reaching those objectives.
Ask for their advice, and do it publicly. I don’t care if you are a 5.12 climber and your partner is projecting 5.10. They can still provide you with useful feedback.
Provide your partner with the opportunity to step a little out of their comfort zone (without pressuring them). And do it frequently. Don’t just open the door once and call it good.
Ask. Ask. Ask again.

Counterproductive and unfavorable behaviors include but are not limited to: always racking up under the assumption that you are going first; beta spraying without consent; not correcting other people’s assumptions about your partner.

Partnerships need to be partnerships. They cannot be one sided. So if you find yourself assuming the leadership role with no discussion every time you go out with your climbing partner, employ those above methods. It’ll be better for everyone.

Only Talking About Climbing

This last one may seem obvious. For some, talking about non-climbing things may come totally naturally, but for others it may not. It’s tempting and easy to always chat climbing and only climbing while you’re out climbing. So why might it be helpful to delve into other topics?

I truly believe that our personalities often come out in our climbing. This sport provides this beautiful lens for examining ourselves.

I first started climbing when I was 18, and from then until I was about 22, my climbing was extremely static and tense. I would grab the tiniest little hold, high step, and lock it down to avoid moving with any level of risk. Looking back, my movement was a manifestation of my emotional landscape at that point in my life. My life up until then had fostered a serious need for control and perfectionism that was as apparent in my climbing as it was in other areas of my life.

As I learned to let go of some control and embrace imperfection as inevitable space for growth, my climbing changed. There was a higher degree of freedom to my movement. I started to play with pace and power and turned it into more of a vertical dance. Self-expression through movement.

It probably sounds like I’m getting off track, but here’s where it ties back in. In my younger years of climbing, I never talked to anyone about anything I was feeling. As I started to open up, that is when my climbing blossomed into what it is now. I got better and stronger because I had partnerships that were more genuine.

We are all made up of the experiences we have. If your partnerships only look at climbing on the surface, how well are you going to be able to support and empower your partner? When we understand the path that has led our partner to where and who they are now, we are bound to learn what it is they need from us to grow and succeed.

And that’s a pretty magical thing.

Language is an undeniably powerful tool. It’s how we communicate and express ourselves. It shapes how we think and feel, and on the flip side even reveals our thought patterns, values, priorities, and identities in subtle but impressive ways.

Through the climbing lens, there are lots of ways in which we can either self-sabotage or self-advance with our word choice. Chances are, these even bleed into other aspects of your life. I promise you it affects the people around you as well.

So, here are 5 unhelpful phrases we commonly hear at the gym or crag. Let’s unpack them and explore some alternatives.

1. “I can’t do it.”

We’ve all said this. The truth is, maybe there are some instances in which it is accurate. But when it’s the first and most consistent thing that comes out of your mouth every time you are struggling to stick a move or send a route, that’s highly problematic.

Have you heard the phrase “self-fulfilling prophecy?” Also known as the Pygmalion Effect (as it applies to our expectations of others), this is a psychological phenomenon in which our beliefs influence our behaviors, which subsequently impact and reinforce our beliefs, which again drive our behaviors. It’s a pretty powerful positive feedback loop. So if your belief is that you can’t do it, you probably won’t. Check out this video for a quick explanation on self-fulfilling prophecy.

Try this instead: “I haven’t done it yet.”

You probably can’t tell the future, so adding that “yet” leaves the door open for progress and change. If you are a chronic user of this phrase, replace the “can’t” with “haven’t” so that your brain doesn’t even have the chance to misinterpret your message.

2. “That hold is terrible.”

The reason this phrase is unhelpful is similar to the “I can’t do it” statement above, but there’s another layer here too. When you describe holds with concrete words like “terrible,” you are not only convincing your brain that it is difficult to hold onto, you’re focusing on the problem rather than the solution. What do you need to do to optimize that hold?

Try this instead: “That hold is slopey. I’ll have to stay low and keep my hips close to the wall.”

By rephrasing in this way, you are focusing on solving the problem. And sending routes is all about aligning solutions. If you’ve convinced yourself that the hold is terrible, then you will believe that you will struggle with the move, which is likely to cause you to overgrip or even just give up and not try as hard. It’s pretty clear that this would be unhelpful in your endeavors to do the rock climb.

3. “That move is too reachy.”

This one is, obviously, most commonly used by shorter climbers. There are some cases in which this is accurate (I use the term “morpho” here instead), but more often than not, the issue is not that the climb is reachy. The issue is that you are lacking some skill, strength, or power to pull the moves. It is truly quite rare that you will come across a move that is impossible due to your height. Yes, sometimes the moves will be harder for you than your partner that is 7 inches taller, but that doesn’t mean it’s “too reachy.”

Try this instead: “I really need to stand hard on that move and be more dynamic.”

Again, we want to keep things solution focused here. So, when you find yourself wanting to exclaim about your vertical challenge, change your language and try these actions instead:

• Look for higher feet.
• Search for intermediate handholds.
• Jump or be dynamic.
• Get creative with your sequence.

I could go on about this for way too long, so it will be another blog post at some point. If you need some short climber inspiration, check out this film of Michaela Kiersch on The Golden Ticket.

4. “That climb is stupid.”

This is one of my favorites. As a routesetter and youth coach in a commercial facility, I’ve heard this almost as many times as the reachy comment. I almost always respond with “Is it stupid because you can’t do it?” To which the answer is always a begrudging yes.

So, with this one, you really need to question why you think the climb is “stupid.” Does it demand a lot of technique and finnicky body positioning that makes you feel clumsy or uncoordinated? Did someone you perceive to be weaker than you just gracefully walk up it? In asking these sorts of questions, you’ll find the answer for how to rephrase.

Try this instead: “That felt weird. This climb must have something to teach me about body positioning.”

This comment is so frequently related to ego. Try to get honest with yourself about it. Ask yourself why it is that you feel so entitled to climb the route with minimal effort. I know entitled is a strong word to use here. That’s kind of the point.

5. “This climb is so sandbagged.”

There is so much talk about grades these days. It’s really not all that interesting. Let’s just stop it. They’re useful for tracking progress over time and as a guideline, but if your primary instinct when you come down from trying a route for the first time is to comment on its grade, your focus is in the wrong place.

Kris Hampton of Power Company Climbing has a great article about this in his book The Hard Truth. I could rant on this topic forever, so I’ll just leave you with this quote from Kris that is 1000% factual.

“When you do a rock climb and log it on your 8a, no matter what grade you give it, or what grade the guidebook gives it, the difficulty of said rock climb does not change. It’s exactly the same amount of challenging for you no matter what number you, or anyone else, attaches to it.“

Just be honest with yourself about how challenging the climb is for you.

Try this instead: Comment on literally anything else about the climb.

Look, we all talk grades sometimes. It’s fine. Just don’t let it be your primary and most consistent topic of conversation. Learn to get genuinely excited about routes you think are hard for the grade. They’re probably filling some gap in your skill at that level. They’ll make you better if you can set aside your ego. And ultimately, these routes are usually more satisfying to complete because you have to earn it far more than your “hardest” redpoint that suited your style perfectly.

Moving Forward

We all are going to have days when these things come out of our mouths or rattle around our brains; when our egos are flared up and we get frustrated. That is a totally normal and genuinely human experience. But keep in mind that awareness is just as powerful a tool as language. If these phrases are dominating narratives for you, give them a little extra love and attention. You don’t need to change your mindset first. It’s okay if your rephrasing feels disingenuine initially. Use it enough and it will shape your outlook over time for better and less stressful climbing.

Overhead Squat Assessments are a gold standard of personal training, and for good reason. The OHS is one of many forms of dynamic postural assessment utilized by personal trainers to inform exercise programs that will increase performance and decrease injury. Proper interpretation of this transitional movement has potential to expose weaknesses in flexibility, core strength, stability/balance, and even neuromuscular control.

The Importance of Optimal Posture

Let’s take a step back for a minute, because if you’re anything like me, you may be asking “why” at this moment. Why does it matter so long as I’m performing well and am not in pain? Why should I care about my posture if it’s “clearly” not holding me back?

Well, here’s the thing. It is holding you back. Even if you’re not in pain (yet) and you’re climbing hard (everything is reportedly “fine”), poor posture is preventing you from reaching your full potential.

If you can maintain ideal posture, the posture our human bodies were designed to move through, you will reach higher levels of functional strength. I think we can all agree that having an all access pass to our bodies’ full strength stores would be beneficial for our climbing. Even if “everything is fine.”

Furthermore, at a degree greater than any other sport, climbing demands an infinite variety of movement from our bodies. It’s not as mechanically simple as swinging a tennis racket or riding a bike. This has the potential to expose us to more injurious positions and circumstances. Consistently poor posture puts you at greater risk of injury.

Here’s how it works:

• Proper posture = proper length-tension relationships between muscles. Without getting too science-y, there is an optimal length for your muscles. Stimulate the muscle when its resting length is too short or too long, and your force output will be lessened.
• Proper length-tension relationships = efficient functioning of force-couples. Simply put, force-couples are muscles working synergistically to create movement around a joint.
• Efficient functioning of force-couples = proper arthrokinematics. This just means that you have proper joint motion. This allows for proper force distribution and absorption and decreases excess stress on your joints.

In summary, proper posture means greater force production and less injury, because, well, biomechanics.

The Overhead Squat Assessment

The Set Up

In order to perform this assessment on yourself, you will need to set up your phone or have a partner film you so that you may observe your movements.

1. Take off your shoes and socks. This allows clearer observation of the foot and ankle complex.
2. Stand with your feet shoulders-width apart and your toes pointing straight ahead. In other words, your feet should be parallel to one another.
3. Raise your arms overhead with elbows fully extended.
4. Squat down to about the height of a chair seat.
5. Return to the starting position.
6. Repeat for 5-10 reps, being sure to obtain video from anterior (from the front) and lateral (from the side) views.

Identifying Compensations

Identify standard compensations by observing the feet and knees from the anterior view and the lumbo-pelvic-hip (LPH) complex and shoulders from the lateral view.

Here’s what you’re looking for:

• Feet: Do they turn out and/or flatten?
• Knees: Do they move inward? In other words, do they adduct and internally rotate?
• LPH Complex: Does the lower back arch? Does the torso lean forward excessively (such that the torso is not parallel to the lower leg)?
• Shoulders: Do the arms fall forward (such that they are no longer parallel with the torso)?

If you answered “yes” to any of these, then it is likely that you have some form of movement impairment. Faulty movements are generally a result of altered available joint motion, improper muscle activation, decreased neuromuscular control, or any combination thereof. Note that you may observe compensations not included in this list. These are just the basic ones. You may also observe compensations occurring at different degrees from right to left. For example, a unilateral shoulder injury (old or recent) may cause one arm to fall forward while the other remains in proper alignment.

Interpreting Your Compensations

Believe it or not, you can strengthen, stretch, or mobilize the wrong muscles. As a general rule, strengthening muscles that are already overactive will make things even more angry, and stretching muscles that are already lengthened beyond where they should be for optimal joint mechanics isn’t going to help either. Instead, static stretch and self-myofascial release (SMR) the muscles that are potentially overactive according to your compensation(s). Probable underactive muscles would benefit from strengthening.

Now What?

Address your compensations at the beginning of each typical training session. Perform 1 round of SMR and/or static stretching for your overactive muscles. Choose 1-2 exercises to strengthen your underactive muscles and work them into your warmup routine. These exercises should be done with low resistance (think bodyweight to 50-70% of 1-rep max) and high reps (12-20). Perform 1-3 sets.

The Basics of Stretching and SMR Pre-Session

We have definitely all heard that you shouldn’t static stretch before activity, but you don’t need to write it off entirely. While there is some evidence that static stretching may decrease maximal strength and power for a short window following it, a consistent stretching program for corrective purposes is going to benefit you in the long run.

Be sure to perform some light cardio before engaging in these warmup activities in order to raise your body temperature and get blood circulating at a faster rate.

Keep it light pre-session. When you are static stretching or performing SMR with trigger point release tools or a foam roller, move into a position or apply pressure at a level where you feel tension and slight discomfort. If it’s painful, back off to where it’s not.

Hold each stretch/tender area for at least 30 seconds. This is how long it takes for mechanoreceptors in your muscles and tendons to respond to the tension and pressure created and release. Keep an eye out for a more in depth blog post on the mechanics of flexibility in the next couple of weeks!

Note: Do not roll over your joints with a foam roller! If you do not know how to foam roll properly, seek advice from a fitness professional.

Strengthening as a Corrective Strategy

After performing stretching and SMR, you can target your underactive muscles with some light strengthening. Go for 1-3 sets of 12-20 reps performed at a slow tempo. Focus on maintaining good form and engaging the proper muscles. Chances are your movement patterns may have you compensating through synergist muscles that should be supporting the movement rather than driving it. So make sure you are feeling the burn in the right place!

Keep in mind that you don’t want to choose exercises that are going to target the overactive muscles as defined by your OHS assessment. This will only have the potential to further exacerbate your compensations.

Moving Forward

After 4 weeks of employing these corrective strategies, perform the overhead squat assessment again to check in on your compensations and adjust your program appropriately. You are likely to observe some changes after this first cycle if you addressed your compensations effectively.

Keep in mind that you don’t necessarily need to target every probable over or underactive muscle, especially if you suspect that one in particular may be the culprit. For example, if you exhibit a low back arch during the OHS and you have a solid core routine in place but struggle with moves that require lower body engagement, then you may choose to target the glutes and hamstrings in your corrective strength program. Once you reassess, you will be able to determine whether your approach was effective or not.

Even if you a reassess and have no compensations, it can still be beneficial to check back in with this test every 4 weeks or so to stay informed. Happy training!

Disclaimer: This article provides a basic understanding of common movement compensations and strategies to correct them. The information herein is not meant to diagnose or treat injuries. Seek the guidance of a medical professional if you suspect an injury.