2023 - Self Love and Discipline
Written 2023-12-24
Written 2023-12-24
Wowza, another year already? 2023 was rich in every flavor that life has to offer, and much like a box of Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, I enjoyed some more than others. But every flavor, good and bad, must be savored to fully experience the spectrum of life.
As with every New Years, I set a couple of themes to guide the year’s course. This year, they were twofold: self-love and discipline.
When I first set these, I thought they meant that I’d be training hard and smashing PRs all year. Instead, I watched my body and health slowly disintegrate when my stark transition from a sedentary life into 3 years of mountaineering finally caught up with me.
It wouldn’t hit me right away though, and I got a strong start. I began hitting the Manitou incline every week, worked myself to the bone with daily training, and bagged my first two winter summits. Yet by February, my body was already on the brink of collapse. I made an ill-fated attempt of Y-Couloir on Pikes Peak, and by the end, 20 miles later, my knees were barking at every step, no matter how much ibuprofen I stuffed down my throat.
Regardless, I kept pushing, ever demanding more of my body. Both of my knees were burning out. My hips and shins radiated with pain, even after a mile or two of hiking. While I did manage to summit several more mountains, I was ultimately failing in my themes. Not only did I lack the self-love to pull over and rest, but also the discipline to do so. “Discipline is pushing through the pain”, I told myself over and over, with no shortage of “who’s gonna carry the boats.” I could not accept that I was at my breaking point - I had so much more to achieve this year. I had moved into my car in April and had a full time guide job lined up for the summer. I would be returning to California to finish off the 14ers I had missed last year. I would, I would, I would.
This pattern of unhealthy desire and misplaced discipline would only break when, in June, I was invited to join a 2024 Denali Expedition. It was an offer I could not refuse, yet I knew if I kept pushing at this rate, my body wouldn’t even hold up through training, much less a month on North America’s tallest mountain.
I decided to finish the summer with one last 14er, taking my friend Greg up his first 3rd class peak. On every step of the descent, I repeated what had become my mantra. “Life is pain.”
At last, the distant summit of Denali now in view, I channeled my discipline into hitting the brakes and forming healthy routines. I cancelled all my big plans, my trail guiding job, and moved back out of my car. I found a physical therapist, and took two months off to focus on my diet and stretching.
In the absence of those adventures that long kept me distracted from myself, my self-love took a nose-dive.
For a long while, I wondered how I was supposed to love such a damaged and weak shell - this fragment of who I wanted to be.
Yet this lull came as a blessing in disguise, as I would finally realize that my adventures were not actually making me any happier or more fulfilled. They merely diverted the pain to a physical manifestation, and without them, I found myself dipping into old vices. This discovery has stuck with me ever since, and for the remainder of the year, I must admit that I have struggled with self-love, and often contemplated giving up on the theme entirely.
This is where a third theme would crop up: learning to deal with and grow from failure.
On three occasions this year, I failed a big alpine ascent of a 14er. Those attempts were Y-Couloir on Pikes, N. Buttress on Sneffels, and Split Couloir.
In the first, I learned that I must rest and recover to perform at my best. If I’m already limping to the trailhead, it’s time to turn around and rest a while longer. Yet failure, I had not mastered. My spirit was crushed when my body at last demanded retreat.
In the second, I learned the cost of poor preparation. I learned the importance of tempering my expectations, and an inkling of acceptance came to life.
In the third, I learned that I can always get stronger and faster. Even at my best, there is always further to improve. And this continual need for improvement is not a failing. It is the essence of life.
All this is to say, it is in these periods of so called “failure” that the path to growth becomes clear. Translating this to my theme of self-love, in my darkest times, the furthest from self-love, I discovered so clearly what weak points I have to develop: