Hard as a rock

Surrounded by Iowa farm lands the plains disappeared from view and forged to create a forest where Iowa's best rock climbing sprawled. For a first time climber, the challenge was more than enough, as I stared up at the rock trying to imagine being strapped to the ropes hanging idle from the 60 ft. rock. As soon as we placed our backpacks filled with food, homework that would never be touched, and a plastic bag with toilet paper (for obvious reasons), the instructor invited all those to the challenge, I stepped back a few feet. I would climb, there was no doubt, but I didn't want to go into it blindly, I wanted the comfort to see those before me mistake. It was a very selfish reason, I can't deny. After a few rounds, my confidence wavering, I began my first ascend. My heart was pumping like mad, my leg shaking like thumper, and at moments, I didn't breathe. At recovery points, I would rest for a moment, remind myself to take a breath, and attempt to calm my twiting leg(s). Only the first two were successful. While on the rock, I worried and stressed not out of fear of the fall or my life, but of failure. I wanted to be one of the best. For others to admire and for the instuctors to acclaim. In my mind, however, I never thought I could place my foot in the hold or grab the hook, yet I continued out of the pursuit of satisfaction. If I didn't accomplish what everyone else could do and if possible above the average, I would feel like a failure. I passed the flake on the first time, even though at certain points I rooted myself to a hold for longer than a reasonable shakeout. The second climb was much more frustrating, failure occured when I attempted to jump up and could force myself to get pass the difficult section. After the lunch break when I came back to it, I finally climbed to the hook and graced the crevice in the least gracefull manner. My belayer commented on my ability to lodge myself in cracks in very unusual ways. Not sure if it was a compliment. Because of my weird narcotic mannerisms, I had to at least touch the final, third climb, to rest my mind. I knew then, that I had to find a way to come back. As we left the leaf frosted grounds of the Monticello forest, I didn't feel like the best, but I had one more credit and the satifaction of learning to climb. I vowed to myself to return to the rock climbing wall within the next week, to practice and practice, and maybe I would master the rock.