Weidner: The key to success

I just spent five weeks at the limestone paradise of Ceuse, France, where, save for a few exceptional moments, my climbing performance was pitiful; where I achieved one climbing goal but botched another; where I left wondering whether I'd succeeded or failed.

How do "successful" climbers define their success, anyway? And how can we -- everyone -- interpret success for ourselves so that it's not so conditional, and ephemeral?

As I pondered these questions I realized that, thankfully (in the selfish sense), I'm not the first person to get spanked at Ceuse. Most of its routes were established in the 1980s and early 1990s, when southern France was the creme de la creme of world sport climbing. Route developers at that time

adhered to a zeitgeist of stiff ratings, primarily to keep visiting climbers on their toes, as it were, but also so that no foreigners would commit the unforgivable sin of down-rating their routes. As a result, few climbers send their hardest routes at Ceuse.

That's why it was so inspiring when, 10 days before I arrived in France, the 22-year-old French climber Alizee Dufraisse achieved enormous success with her ascent of Dures Limites (5.14b), the first time a woman had climbed that grade at Ceuse.

Then, just six weeks later, I witnessed the New Zealander Mayan Smith-Gobat repeat this feat on a different 5.14b, becoming the first Kiwi woman to climb the grade. (Only three American women have climbed 5.14b, including Boulder's Emily Harrington).

Incidentally, I was slumped in my harness one route to the right of Smith-Gobat, puzzling over a desperately thin crux (on a route that was a full number grade easier), when she floated up L'arcamidicien, a gently overhanging route whose holds appear so small that a slight breeze could spit a climber off. And I thought the holds on my route were bad!

On her blog (mayangobat.wordpress.com), Smith-Gobat explains how she approached every redpoint attempt "with passion and commitment." She continues, "I managed to let go of my expectations and desire for success, which freed me to truly focus on climbing." That focus, she said, was part of what led to her success.

I think she's on to something. Perhaps success is found once you let go of the idea of succeeding, and just focus on the moment, the process.

During my final week at Ceuse I reflected not only on my own triumphs and defeats but also on those of my friends. How did they define success? Courtney Sanders, an American climber at Ceuse, offered a nugget of wisdom when she said, "Success for others is always success for me. I'm always psyched when everyone else has a good day." Now wouldn't it be great if we could all adopt this perspective?

My climbing partner Alex Honnold maintained a positive attitude despite not climbing his best either. He explained that it's crucial to define success beyond your climbing goals because if you don't, "You'll fail most of the time." He climbed great routes, began reading the "Harry Potter" series en francais and improved his slack-lining prowess. "You know," he said with a laugh, "you take success where you can."

I Googled "definition of success" and found a quote by Albert Schweitzer that not only summarized what others had said but also offered a hopeful point of view: "Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful."

So, according to this late German-French theologian, humanitarian, philosopher, musician and physician, my trip to Ceuse was wildly successful. Not because of what I climbed, but because I loved what I was doing and I loved the people I was with. I was genuinely happy.

Contact Chris Weidner at cweidner8@gmail.com.