Catalina Shirley
Hitting the Buzzer
A young girl learns the importance of believing in herself at the 2017 Youth Ice Climbing World Cup.
Two figures flew up the ice, tools and crampons in perfect rhythm. Twenty-two seconds, twenty-four seconds. Then it was my turn.
Let me rewind a little bit. I’m here, in France, competing at the UIAA Youth World Cup against seventy-one athletes, representing nine different countries. And I was terrified out of my mind. I had only been ice climbing for a couple of months, although I’d been rock climbing since I was seven years old. I'm looking around at all these athletes, (who had been training their whole lives for this). I was just so nervous that I would make a fool of myself! Everyone would think like, “What, who’s this little American girl? What, what’s she doing here?”
Here I was, getting ready to start my speed practice run. I look up, and this wall just goes on forever. People are doing this in like, twenty seconds, people are doing this in twelve seconds. It’s insane, these people fly up the wall as fast as someone could run. I don't know how I can get anywhere close to that.
I look around, and I notice that all of these people, I'm seeing them as my competition. And I want to win. I'm here, and I want to make my country proud and my coach proud. I had already competed in lead, and done pretty well. I had placed third, which earned me a bronze medal. That was really what I came for, speed really wasn't my thing. I had never trained for it, and it wasn't something that the United States was known to be good at. All these other girls who I was competing against, they actually spent time training for speed, and here I was, getting ready to go.
I step up to the ice, clip in, and look over at my belayers. There are two of them, and they’re ready to pull up all my slack… because they think I'm going to be going fast! I have my Fifis in my hands, and I’m braced, and I’m waiting for the countdown, and it comes. I’m up, and I’m climbing. It’s certainly very, very slow, but I make it up to the top of the wall in forty seconds. The other girl was already down on the ground by the time I was able to start getting lowered.
I’m just filled with… shame, and I know that I have to do better next time. I get down, and get a few last-minute pointers from my coach before my name is called for a second time.
When my name is called, I feel that I need to do better; I need to make myself proud, my team proud, my coach proud, and my country proud.
I step up, and I’m ready, and I GO! Something just clicks, and I’m climbing, and I’m kicking, and pushing, and pulling with my arms. I'm racing up this wall, or so it seems. I hit the buzzer at the top, and I look down, and the other girl hits the buzzer a second after I do, and I think, “Oh my gosh, I beat someone!”
I start getting lowered down, and I turn around to look at my time, and it's flashing twenty-four seconds. and I think, “I just cut my time in half!”
I’m filled with joy and bliss as I get lowered down to the ground. The girl who I just competed against- her name is Daria and she's from Russia- comes up to me. She doesn't speak very much English, but she looks over at me and says, “You are very good.”
At that moment, I smile, and I realize that this is what competitions like these are all about. It's not about competing against these people from other countries, it's about making relationships with them. Because we’re all just climbers, so nothing else matters. We’re here because we all love to climb.
I look over at Daria and I tell her, “Thank you!” and congratulate her as well. Then I go over to find my coach and my team.
The next few minutes go by in a blur of hugs and congratulations, and my eyes are wide, and my heart is happy, and I have done it. Thank you.
Let me rewind a little bit. I’m here, in France, competing at the UIAA Youth World Cup against seventy-one athletes, representing nine different countries. And I was terrified out of my mind. I had only been ice climbing for a couple of months, although I’d been rock climbing since I was seven years old. I'm looking around at all these athletes, (who had been training their whole lives for this). I was just so nervous that I would make a fool of myself! Everyone would think like, “What, who’s this little American girl? What, what’s she doing here?”
Here I was, getting ready to start my speed practice run. I look up, and this wall just goes on forever. People are doing this in like, twenty seconds, people are doing this in twelve seconds. It’s insane, these people fly up the wall as fast as someone could run. I don't know how I can get anywhere close to that.
I look around, and I notice that all of these people, I'm seeing them as my competition. And I want to win. I'm here, and I want to make my country proud and my coach proud. I had already competed in lead, and done pretty well. I had placed third, which earned me a bronze medal. That was really what I came for, speed really wasn't my thing. I had never trained for it, and it wasn't something that the United States was known to be good at. All these other girls who I was competing against, they actually spent time training for speed, and here I was, getting ready to go.
I step up to the ice, clip in, and look over at my belayers. There are two of them, and they’re ready to pull up all my slack… because they think I'm going to be going fast! I have my Fifis in my hands, and I’m braced, and I’m waiting for the countdown, and it comes. I’m up, and I’m climbing. It’s certainly very, very slow, but I make it up to the top of the wall in forty seconds. The other girl was already down on the ground by the time I was able to start getting lowered.
I’m just filled with… shame, and I know that I have to do better next time. I get down, and get a few last-minute pointers from my coach before my name is called for a second time.
When my name is called, I feel that I need to do better; I need to make myself proud, my team proud, my coach proud, and my country proud.
I step up, and I’m ready, and I GO! Something just clicks, and I’m climbing, and I’m kicking, and pushing, and pulling with my arms. I'm racing up this wall, or so it seems. I hit the buzzer at the top, and I look down, and the other girl hits the buzzer a second after I do, and I think, “Oh my gosh, I beat someone!”
I start getting lowered down, and I turn around to look at my time, and it's flashing twenty-four seconds. and I think, “I just cut my time in half!”
I’m filled with joy and bliss as I get lowered down to the ground. The girl who I just competed against- her name is Daria and she's from Russia- comes up to me. She doesn't speak very much English, but she looks over at me and says, “You are very good.”
At that moment, I smile, and I realize that this is what competitions like these are all about. It's not about competing against these people from other countries, it's about making relationships with them. Because we’re all just climbers, so nothing else matters. We’re here because we all love to climb.
I look over at Daria and I tell her, “Thank you!” and congratulate her as well. Then I go over to find my coach and my team.
The next few minutes go by in a blur of hugs and congratulations, and my eyes are wide, and my heart is happy, and I have done it. Thank you.