One month ago, I spent a morning doing this, over and over:
I must have jumped and failed 20 times that morning. I probably jumped and failed 20 more times both before and after that morning.
I refuse to admit defeat, so I kept at it. I thought about what I could be doing differently. Jump harder? Pull up more? Pull in? I was so close. All I needed was another couple inches to wrap my hand around the hold. I climbed it in reverse a few times just to get a feel for the body position.
I knew I could do it. I just had to do it before they refreshed the problems.
I watched many try and fail. I watched a couple succeed. They were just… stronger. Quite simply, they could jump higher.
I could be stronger too. But I also knew I could find an extra couple inches with technique. I just didn’t have that technique yet.
Last weekend, I watched a high school kid do the jump. He was super excited about having just figured it out, and was practicing it over and over.
His jump had a weird kink in it. What was that?
It got me thinking. Perhaps a single leap wasn’t what I needed. Maybe I needed to push with my feet, pull up and in with my arms, and then finish the move by pushing up with my left arm.
Three attempts later, I got my hand around the hold and hung on to finish.
Success! Joy! Relief.
Climbing has been a fantastic exercise in grit and deliberate practice.