Learning to Listen
I’ve come to see two versions of myself: the old me and the new me. The two are separated by a significant life event. But this is not really about that. This is about the new me, forced into existence, who is finally learning to listen to what my body is telling me and respect and care for it in a way I never did before. The old me listened to certain aspects, ignored others, and if it didn’t like what it heard, would generally get frustrated and then either ignore it or panic instantly and go in search of help in the form of a physio or friend to sort out whatever was hurting or not working. I also viewed life in two ways: to do with climbing or not to do with climbing. If it was not to do with climbing, it came second.
To give you an example of how disconnected I was, the only reason I realised I was pregnant (and it was planned) was because I only wanted to drink desert wine on a night out in Rome instead of normal wine (and it only struck me the next day that this was odd). The subsequent test showed I was approaching 3 months pregnant. Yet up until that point I had been training harder and harder, seemingly clueless about why I wasn’t really getting much fitter.
Training Diary February 2014: Dear me I was confused. How is it even possible within a single week to start convinced you feel better, to a handful of days later realise you’re ill with another chest infection (which I had)? Denial, motivation, confusion, stubborness = a very poor combination.
You may laugh, and I’m laughing at myself, but this inability to listen to what my body was saying (despite of course thinking ‘I was so tuned in’ yeah right) took a more serious turn. I’ve spoken before about my 4 year block of chest infections and insomnia caused by stress. During that time I bulldozed through: I trained hard, leaping between climbing projects, lurching between courses of antibiotics, rest weeks, tiredness and more antibiotics. I guess I was pouring myself into climbing as a distraction, but still I saw results in my climbing so I didn’t change anything. “I am over motivated. If it doesn’t work according to the plan I will use the sledgehammer”. This sentence (of how not to do it) on page 30 of the ‘Gimme Kraft’ training book perfectly described my approach.
I learnt the hard way. I’m well again now but during the intervening time my body has systematically been teaching me to listen, and just to be sure in case I didn’t learn the first time it has emphasised the point.
You may have read Mina Leslie-Wujastyk’s honest, articulate and cautionary article about her diagnosis of RED-S (Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport). Her experience of over training, under-fuelling and not listening to the signs has led to this hugely complex diagnosis of a suppressed metabolism and a dangerous hormonal imbalance. I’ve listened to her podcast too and I relate to the challenging dichotomy of pushing hard, digging deep, while simultaneously being kind to the body and going carefully. This line is very faint and hard to tread. In fact, what is the line? When you listen to her words, it’s clear she had signs and found it difficult to hear – as she talks she accepts this process is long and hard won and ongoing. She’s not alone and when she looked outwards the picture was no clearer. This pattern is extremely common among climbers and athletes.
In my opinion, the only way to find that line is to truly learn to listen to your own body. There is a quote that says “listen to your body when it whispers... so you won’t have to listen when it screams”. No matter how hard you try, the mind cannot teach this – the mind just makes up stories. It’s the body that talks. It’s the body that speaks the truth.
The new me has learnt to listen to my body without judgement. It has had no choice. My body has been adamant in its determination to teach me. In the process of recovering myself, I’ve had any number of pulled muscles, a broken finger, sciatica, and a swollen arthritic elbow. All have stopped play and all have taught me a new variation on the same lesson. Some may say I’ve had a run of bad luck. I say I’m still learning a different approach, and underneath it all I’m gaining something way more powerful.
Is the mind stronger than the body, when the body gets injured regularly and the mind continues to want to push on?? I’ve come to believe the opposite: that it is a strong mind that reads the signs early and responds calmly and appropriately. Because hearing the whispers takes diligence, patience and work. And if you miss the whispers then dealing with the screams requires a calm acceptance of what is. In my experience this requires an astonishing presence and strength of mind but this is a challenge I want.
It’s only when I look back can I see how far I’ve come. Just last week I went on holiday to Spain and half way through the week my neck froze up. And there I was in climbing paradise unable to look up, down, left or right. This time though I knew I’d done everything to look after myself and still my body was teaching me something. I was amazed at my acceptance of the situation and even more amazed that I can still onsight 7b (hello ego) without being able to change the angle of my head. Should I have rested? Ha ha!! Yes probably – but that’s what I’m doing this week. It’s still not quite right: I can’t easily look back (I’m taking the opportunity to be zen about reverse parking with waiting cars as I learn to use the mirrors), I can’t look down (what is there to see down there anyway) and I can’t look up (the firework display was interesting) – but I can look forward. And in front there is a lot to see.
Arapiles: sometimes the only way to listen is to take space
I’ve come to be grateful for how clearly my body speaks to me, without this I wonder what battering my mind would take. It doesn’t mess about and my mind feels stronger and calmer than it used to. I only know what it’s like to be me of course, but still I urge you to think about what you own body is telling you.
Here are some of the ways I’ve learnt to listen:
To find a level of honesty in yourself: you only listen when you’re prepared to hear what your body is saying.
To remove the hierarchy of ‘climbing important’ parts of the body. Everything needs attention and love! Fingers, shoulders and arms are not the only parts of the body. Ankles and feet are often ignored by climbers, but yet we need them to walk and stand on!! Each morning I do some exercises for my wobbly ankles – they are really happy about this.
To warm up gently listening to energy levels as well as what aches or hurts and then... gear your climbing session up accordingly.
To not be afraid of resting – in the end resting and being patient will reap greater rewards.
To take a moment each day to tune into what is happening in the body. Some people call it meditation or mindfulness. For me it’s called having a cup of tea, taking a moment and sitting quietly while not being distracted by my phone or anything else.
To re-frame an injury: what your body is really teaching you, what is it asking you to pay attention to – this may be something completely different to the injured or poorly part, perhaps another part of your life altogether.
To ask yourself not what it’s stopping you doing, but what it’s making you do instead.
To learn to listen and observe without judgement of whether something is good or bad. There is evidence that pain is related to the perceived significance of the pain or injury. Learn to accept things as they are – and inevitably with a calmer nervous system and approach they’ll soften and resolve quicker.
For the question “what does my body need” to be a regular part of my inner dialogue: rest, space, light exercise, stretching, quiet, intense exercise, an adventure??