Stronger Than Ever

Before and after my ankle enhancement surgery.

Someone I have never met before, told me he heard about me breaking my leg on Moonlight Buttress through the "blogosphere". This moment of celebrity caught me by surprise and I nearly went along with it. In the Bellingham climbing community I had reached the equivalent of one of the lesser Kardashians. I realized that this blog, which I started as a reflective writing exercise to share my stories with friends and family, had inflated me into an internet persona and had obscured my real life.

I did break my leg. Though, not while performing an epic ascent of a stunning climbing test-piece. Nope, I was in my friend's garage, climbing three feet off the ground, and fell wrong. It is a pretty uninspiring story. The realization of how fragile I am is sobering, to say the least. I have always fantasized about being a martial arts master kicking my way through walls, and shattering bricks with my head. In real life, I didn't stand a chance against 3/4 inch OSB sub-flooring.

The moment is still so sharp in my memory. My foot slipped and I snapped my leg. Social media and some creative thinking allowed people to rewrite this story and perpetuate an internet identity that was much cooler and interesting than me.

I have written a number of blogs since then, but have not published anything. I wanted to continue the momentum, but didn't have a story that had the same heroic or inspiring plotline. I had a broken leg, a broken heart, was unemployed, and was sleeping/living on my friend's living room floor. I was not feeling like a winner. I was, and am just Calvin...

Climbing had risk and fear and unknown, but it was emotionally safe. I knew what I could do, and had a history of success. Life without climbing left me completely vulnerable.

My internet reputation had inflated my ego, and the subsequent fall from grace was bigger than any climbing fall. I was lower than I had ever been. I was reminded by a dear friend, that "the upside to being at your personal worst, is that things can only get better." In the short term, carpentry and guiding were out of the question, and it was torture to think about the climbing I wasn't doing. I needed something that I could pursue with all that built up energy, but did not require walking. In between watching kung fu movies, and trying to shower without breaking my other leg, I worked on job applications and did lots of push ups. For all the things I couldn't do, I learned to appreciate what I could do. A month after "the fall", I experienced a wave of joy more powerful than the celebration of onsighting 5.12. I was offered a desk job at an environmental education facility in one of my favorite places in the world. This was an opportunity to push myself, to learn and grow, and begin something that was more intimidating than any big wall... a career. Two months after the metal plate, screws and wire ligament were installed in my right ankle, I celebrated my 30th birthday, and made my first steps without crutches. My life was changing at breakneck speed as I hobbled to my office every morning, and learned to move my right foot again.

My world had been turned upside down. As the dust settled, I found that life as just Calvin, may be as good or better than my internet identity. My ankle hurt (and continues to hurt) everyday, but by leaning into the pain and approaching my physical therapy with the same determination I had to climb the Moonlight Buttress, I have made remarkable gains. My strength and range of motion slowly returned. After 3 months, I was almost normal looking when I walked across campus and was elated to start climbing again. Learning to walk and climb again was just a small part of how I was changing.

First day back on the rock. my new backyard crag in Newhalem

I always admired those who are passionate about their pursuits, but struggled to see how they could maintain the enthusiasm. Climbing is such an emotionally and physically stimulating activity that it seems obvious that it can take over someone's life. People getting fired up about poetry or gardening, didn't make sense to me. The combination of a deep dark depression, and new job, helped me to know why my friends light up when they talk about parenting or photography. Getting back up out of my hole meant learning and growing.

Now, six months later, people around me have all but forgotten about my special ankle. It was a major benchmark to climb the “Grand Wall” last month. It is flattering for my buddy to egg me on during a hard lead climb yelling, “Yeah right! You were never injured!" It has been a long road. It feels so good to be moving across rock again, in control and smooth. The inspiration to write still springs from climbing, but climbing feels different. I had to be completely broken, before I could understand that there is more to life than climbing. I am learning the joy of working with a team to serve, and improve the lives of others. Long free climbs are exciting, but there is nothing like teaching kids science in the middle of the national park, and pushing myself as a professional.

Back in the mountains with my new improved ankle.

Those who find and embrace their passion, in whatever form, hold something that inspires people. It is a reason, to improve, to overcome, and to live. Is it too presumptuous to suggest that it has driven our success as a human race?

The metaphors in my work life coordinating weaving or yoga retreats may be slightly less thrilling than big wall climbing, but I love it. I look forward to gleaning new life lessons from my experience and writing from this new perspective.


… and climbing alpine routes again.