Diva Kc | layout editor

Despite being involved in sports throughout my life, I was adamant on clinging to the “unathletic label” as a part of my identity.

I spent almost all of high school actively picking the gym class that didn’t involve participating in any games, and I always had an excuse on the tip of my tongue when I had no way out. I’d said it enough to convince myself that partaking in a sport was something I couldn’t do and didn’t need.

That all went out the window when I went bouldering for the first time. The sheer expanse of colorful plastic was both overwhelming and intimidating. I would love to say the fear went away when I got on the wall and scaled it in fabulous fashion, but I was deeply clumsy. I left the gym that day with my muscles full of lactic acid and my mind completely changed. The rush of adrenaline and accomplishment of sending a route was enough to bring me back again and again.

It wasn’t entirely a happily ever after. It only took a few more sessions to realize I was embarrassed to be there. I was so obviously a beginner with my rental shoes and chalk bag, my shabby footwork and — not to mention — the hesitance to get on the wall. There is something incredibly vulnerable in being seen trying. I spent weeks struggling to do what everyone around me made look so easy: Have fun. It was during these weeks, I realized why I hid behind the safety of being bad at sports.

To be sporty is to invest time into an activity, be bad at it and keep practicing anyway. I never quite got past the learning curve and sat with the idea I could never enjoy these activities. The end of each bouldering session was rewarding enough that I let myself lean into the embarrassment and fun of being a beginner. Every session was new, unexpected and exhilarating.

Climbing is a deeply humbling sport. I fall during every single session at the gym, more during some than others. I’m constantly attempting something slightly above my skill level, and yet I continue on. There is a constant mental battle when I’m both on and off the wall, fighting off a part of myself that is so embarrassed to be there. I itch to let all my trials crumble and just give up, move on and find happiness that doesn’t involve constantly being in flight or fight. But the fruits of the accomplishment are too sweet. I simply must climb on.

The joy I find in this sport is accompanied by a constant appreciation for those around me. The people within the community are so deeply compassionate, encouraging and interesting. I see people from all walks of life, each leaving the gym with light in their eyes and less weight on their shoulders. It’s beautiful that a sport or interest can be this meaningful and unifying. I live day-to-day with a renewed outlook on life, one that no longer includes an insistence on athletic incompetence.

Diva KC can be reached at kcd@duq.edu