We watched The Sharp End to prepare for our rock climbing lessons at Red River Gorge this weekend. And a line from one of the climbers sung to me.
You have to redline your soul
That’s what this quest for a new sport is for me. It’s not because I like exercise. It’s not because I need a hobby. I want to redline my soul.
I want surging adrenaline in the midst of it and a frisson at the mere thought of my sport. I had that with powerlifting. And one of my talismans — chalking my hands, which meant shit was about to get real — carries over into rock climbing. My superstitious side lights up at that. Maybe that’s a sign that this will be my sport.
Another climber in the film put to words a feeling I had about powerlifting.
It’s where fear and confidence collide.
Yes to that, too! Like getting under a really heavy weight, it seems like climbing demands you to face a primal fear, muster all your confidence, and fight to conquer it. When you come out on the other side it’s exultation.
I am dumbfounded by the fearless approach of the climbers I saw in the film. Even when they were visibly shaking, they kept going, an inch at a time if need be, until they scaled their challenge. I hope I can rummage up even a fraction of their guts when I take my first lessons. I’ll have to, if I want to redline my soul.