Climbing Back

If I had to classify rock climbing, I would call it both a passion and a lifestyle.  It is hard to say that rock climbing is a sport, since the only person you are competing against is yourself and the only rules are the ones you accept as important.  Sure, it is an intense activity that involves both mental and physical training,  but it is more than that.  When many people are asked the standard "what do you do" question, they answer with the title they hold 40 hours a week or the product they produce in exchange for money.  If I am asked the standard "what do you do" question, my primary response is: "I climb."

Me, before surgery,  climbing in Shelf Road, CO. Photo by Michelle Christiance 

When climbing is such a major part of your identity, it is hard to have an impending surgical procedure on the horizon that is going to put you out of commission.  I did not realize this until last year.  After an initial check-up, where my cardiologist insisted that surgery had to be done soon, I lost some of my drive to push my climbing ability.  Maybe it was due to the thought that all progress would be halted and reversed when I got my sternum cracked open.  Maybe it was because somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had an Aortic aneurysm that could burst. I knew that this was a bit illogical, but it was still on my mind.

I explained this lack of drive to some climbing friends.  As one of my climbing partners and best friends put it, "you better gets this shit done fast because it's fucking with your head."  That partner and wordsmith, Ralph, was right.  I felt like I needed to get this surgery over with so I could go back to being myself.

In the weeks leading up to my surgery, something strange happened that I can only describe as excitement.  Although fear was always present, I was mostly excited for the procedure to be over so that I could start the recovery process.  I knew that the first hour after my operation, I would already one hour into recovery.  When I made it through the first day of recovery, I would one day closer to being in the mountains.  I love quantifying my experiences, so this was my way to put my brain at ease and keep looking forward to the day that otherwise would have scared the hell out of me.

As the initial weeks of recovery passed, I could start to walk longer distances.  On a day when I felt daring, for example, I would find myself walking 3-4 city blocks.  I don't mean to brag here.  As I pushed these distances farther, I looked forward to the times when I could start using my arms and chest.  Until my fifth week of recovery, I was told that I should refrain from doing much with my arms, since the bones in my sternum were still healing.  Obviously, if I wanted to get back to climbing as soon as possible, getting my arms and chest back in shape became a primary focus as soon as this restriction was lifted.

Me during one of my first walks. Word of advice, if you're having a surgery, bring a nice walking hat.
 It makes everything less serious

After my exciting 5-week check-up, which I described in my last post, I knew I could start to use my arms again.  In addition to putting muscle back on, I also needed to work on stretches to open my shoulders up from their hunched position I was used to.  My first steps were to use dumb-bells to curl and bench upwards of 20 pounds at a time.  Again, I do not mean to brag.  My favorite exercise, by far, was pull ups.  Of course, I could not lift my full body weight right off the bat.  I like to think this was more because of atrophy and not due to the fat I was accumulating. Either way, my climbing gym has a machine where you step on a platform below the pull up bar and you can determine how much of your weight you want removed from the workout.  At first, I was doing pull-ups with about 110 pounds removed from my weight.  Basically, this is like going through the motion of a pull-up, but with only 60 pounds of weight being lifted.  This workout felt amazing, since it stretched my chest but also worked all of the muscles I would need to start building in order to climb again.

A generic photo of the type of pull-up machine I use.

Eight weeks from my surgery date, I felt like I was just about ready to climb.  My brother was coming to town and he wanted to have some Colorado experiences while he was here, so I thought this was the perfect excuse to get outside and attempt an easy climb.  Luckily, in the Front Range of Colorado, we have the Flatirons.  These rocks soar over 1000' feet into the air, but are tilted back just enough to make the climbing relatively easy.  As we left the parking lot, heading toward Seal Rock, I was excited to be out, but a little nervous.  Not only was it my first climb and my first long hike with a backpack, I was also taking out my brother and his friend.  Their climbing experience combined totaled one day in a climbing gym about 6 years ago.  Basically, if anything went wrong up there, I was the only one who could get us out of it.  I was excited for the challenge, but a little intimidated.

My brother Matt climbing up Seal Rock in Colorado.

That day, we climbed the east face of Seal Rock.  This 800' climb was exactly what I needed.  As we began climbing, temperatures were in the mid 90's.  I set up belays in shady areas to avoid the heat, but as the sky became overcast, conditions were perfect.  I was nervous about the heat, since it is something to be avoided right after a heart surgery.  I felt like I was more prone to over-heating and passing out.  Of course, this did not happen.  We crushed up this amazing climb and did the amazing 200' vertical rappel to  wrap up the day.  My biggest take-away was that I could be outside, I could be climbing, but I just needed to start here.  This climb was the equivalent to doing pull-ups on the assisted machine at the gym.  It got my muscles working, but was well within my ability level.

My brother Matt and his friend Vince after an 800' tall climb.

Having a heart surgery is hard.  It is something you must dedicate months of your life to.  Having climbing in my life helped my recovery because it focused my attention.  It got me excited.  I was not sad about all of the progress I lost because of surgery;  I was excited for the small gains I was making.  I am now 13 weeks out of surgery and heading back to my normal climbing areas.  I am at the climbing gym almost every night and making a ton of progress.  My biggest issue is finding climbing partners who can keep up with me.  I have ample energy and want to climb so much that it's hard to find someone as excited and eager.  This is a great problem to have.