Rocktown

I'd like to believe that everything happens for a reason. But, sometimes, it's hard to understand "why" or "how" somethings happen, but at the end, things will be ok. This past week and a half, I was headed down to climb in Rocktown. I was beyond excited to say the least. Rocktown is one area I have never been to before and I was looking forward to climb new problems. It was a clean slate for me - I had no projects to work, but it was a chance for me to just climb. It was southern sandstone calling my name. After a long day of driving and hands sweating, we finally arrived to Rocktown. It was around 4 pm and we headed straight to the boulders with crash pads, shoes, chalk, and headlamps. The first problem I got on was "Golden Shower," which was one of the most beautiful problems I've ever seen. The sun reflects the stone, creating a warm, reddish color on the rock. It was a fun problem and I enjoyed climbing it. The next problem was "Blue" and was a little nervous trying it - it is far from my style. But, I sent it within a few goes and smiled at the top-out. It was starting to be dusk and we went over to climb another problem. It was crimpy and I knew I would love the movement of the climb. Starting the problem, I did one move to an undercling and fell, hitting the pad, as I thought my world turned upside down...

Bella holding a caterpillar she found at the boulders

I felt agonizing pain running up my forearm. Instant tears ran down my face, catching salt water drops in my mouth. Part of me was crying from the pain, but I know another part was scared - in complete shock. What had just happened to me? I was bummed. I was frustrated. I couldn't close my left hand into a fist and if I put the tiniest pressure on my ring finger, shooting pain would run up my forearm. I sat back, putting a cold water bottle against my arm, with a million thoughts running through my head. I knew I had done something bad, but didn't know what had happened at the time or if I could continue to climb. By that time, it had been dark, and we decided to call it a night and go back to camp. We sat around the campfire and my arm was in pain. This was my first climbing injury that I had to take time away from climbing and it hurt - physically of course, but so much more mentally and emotionally. I hadn't gone more than 3 days without climbing for the past 2 and a half years. Climbing is water, food, shelter - a necessity - I needed it. I decided to go to sleep, with a million tears in my eyes- hoping it will be better in the morning. I wanted to think that maybe I was dreaming...but I was definitely not dreaming.

Johnny climbing "Biomechanics" 

Johnny sending "Big Bad"

I woke up with my sleeping bag over my face and fresh, cold air hitting my body. My arm had hurt even more before and everyone knew I shouldn't climb. Deep down, I knew too, it was just so hard to wrap my head around. Eggs and bacon were sizzling around me and blueberry muffins sat on the table. Everything smelled delicious, but I was not hungry. My stomach was turning in knots. My mom was on the phone with the doctor's assistant, who told me I shouldn't climb for the rest of the trip and I could be out from a few weeks to a couple of months. That was the moment that stung the most. It felt like a gallon of lemon juice poured on an open wound. For some reason, and I don't know exactly why, but I was not expecting to hear that. My heart thought I could climb the next day and continue climbing new problems here in Rocktown. Tears immediately rushed down my face and I hid my face away in an isolated area. I wanted to act strong, but it was too hard. I can't tell you how much that hurt to hear those words. My heart sank - it felt like my heart broke in half. Maybe I was overreacting, but when something means so much to you and it's taken away from you, it doesn't feel good. It was the first day at Rocktown and I still had a week left! My mental side got completely destroyed at that moment. All of the questions and "what ifs" started - What if I had drank more water before I climbed? What if we left a day later? What if I never tried this problem, etc. I kept beating and beating myself up. "I'm going to be weak. How am I going to be ready for triple crown? I'm going to let so many people down." For a few hours, I was 100% defeated.

Bella showing us a magic trick (It's the little things)

I remember my coach, Johnny, telling me "It's going to be ok. Worse things could have happened. You could have hurt your shoulder and been out longer or this could have happened in Hueco or the first week of a month long trip to Rocky Mountain National Park and Mt. Evans over the summer." After a bit of a breather and regaining my composure, I wouldn't necessarily say I was ok at that point, but I was better. Much better. I understood that you can either give up when a wrong turn comes your way, or you can get up and make the best of it. I decided to make the best of it. I went up and took hundreds of pictures of climbers in our group. It definitely wasn't as much fun as climbing, but it helped me be apart of climbing in some way. Some days were harder than others, but I see climbing in a whole different aspect now. I just want my hands to touch rock - I don't care what or where. I want to be able to feel being sore after waking up and not even being able to raise your hand. I see the little things that I never really saw before. And now, thinking about it, the little things are some of the best parts about climbing - getting that one move on a problem - even though it's just one, or getting that fist pump or thumbs up after sending or doing a good job.

Bella giving 2 thumbs up

One of the days on the trip, my arm felt the best yet - I was ibuprofen free and I smiled so big thinking, "Soon. I'll be back soon." It was the little thing. Or when we made s'mores around the campfire, or taking that one good picture, where everything looks perfect. Singing along a song on the radio, with your crazy voice, not caring what anyone will think. I had the option to either go home or stay. At the beginning, I wanted to go home. But, I decided to stay and was glad I did. I was with some of my favorite people in the world with Johnny and his family and just being at a beautiful place was something to at least smile about.

Me icing my arm in a cooler

Although this trip was hard for me, I believe what happened, happened for a reason. I go to the doctor tomorrow and will hear what exactly I did and when I can climb again. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, telling me that my body needs a rest. Maybe I'll come back even stronger. I have a whole new appreciation for the sport and am hoping to come back physically and mentally better. I'm going to still train doing core, right arm pull-ups, and other exercises not involving my left arm. No one wants to get injured, but every athlete goes through it sometime or another. It's a really hard thing to go through, but it'll be ok at the end. There will be a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise.