I was introduced to Rock Climbing when I was 13.
I was fairly good at it but not as amazing as my best friend. We pretty much got closer with each other because she was good at it and I just enjoyed it.
When I entered Uni, I met Izzu. Junior Year, Psychology Major.
I have always been fascinated by how Izzu is so passionate about his climbing experience, as if his life depends on it. Climbing was his escapade and he sees climbing as a form of art. The way your moves and how you set your body free as moves like the water. I never understood what he was trying to say but I have enjoyed watching that burning fire of his.
10 years later, I started climbing again.
Natural walls. Nothing like the walls I'm used too. It was something new, the experience was different. The feel was different too. Just like how Izzu described to me before. And that's where it hit me that, climbing now, was no longer like climbing then.
Climbing then,
You wanted to reach above quick. You were reckless. You were fast.
You keep on pulling yourself up and never looked down. Never looked what are the alternatives, smarter choices but only focus on the quickest, easiest choices. Back then,
You were careless.
Climbing now,
was all about the journey. Where you grab on, where you put your foot at, what was your next move. Although it was slower than before, the experience was way more thrilling that it used to be. Instead of looking up, I begin to look down, look back, look at where my foot should be and how I should place it. Where my fingers are gripping and how long should I keep holding on. I begin to listen more, at the advices, instructions and put trust on the people below me for me to keep pushing myself up.
And when I reached up, although the satisfaction was temporary but the drive kept on burning. I insisted of climbing again and again and again till my arms hurt.
This was the sports my best friend lived by, this was the sport Izzu considered life,
And this was the sport that showed me a new side.
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