This week, something felt off.
My sessions on the wall didn’t go the way I had hoped. Moves that normally feel natural felt awkward. Boulder problems that should have suited me seemed harder than they should have been. I wasn’t climbing terribly, but I wasn’t climbing well either. More importantly, I wasn’t enjoying it as much.
As the week progressed, that feeling followed me home from the gym. By the time the weekend arrived, my motivation to go bouldering had dropped significantly. I found myself wondering whether I should even bother training.
Every climber experiences periods like this. Progress is rarely linear. Some days, weeks, or even months can feel like you’re moving backwards. It is easy to focus on the sessions that don’t go well and forget why you started climbing in the first place.
Then I watched Elias Iagnemma’s video about climbing his first 9a+.
Not because I expected it to magically motivate me, but because I enjoy following his journey. What struck me was not the grade itself. Very few of us will ever climb 9a+, and that is not the point.
The point was the dedication.
Years of showing up. Years of training. Years of trying, failing, learning, improving, and returning to the wall. One small step after another. One session after another. One route after another.
Watching Elias succeed reminded me that extraordinary achievements are usually built from ordinary days. Days when motivation is high, but also days when motivation is low. Days when you feel strong, but also days when you feel weak. The difference is not perfection; it is persistence.
A 9a+ ascent is not the result of one great day. It is the result of thousands of small decisions made over many years.
That realization changed my perspective.
Maybe I don’t feel great on the wall this week. Maybe I won’t send my project tomorrow. Maybe my climbing feels stagnant right now. But every session is still a step forward. Every attempt teaches something. Every hour spent doing something I enjoy contributes to a larger journey.
The lesson is simple: keep going.
Not because success is guaranteed, but because meaningful progress is often invisible while it is happening.
So this weekend, instead of staying home because I felt unmotivated, I’ll go climbing. Maybe I’ll climb well. Maybe I won’t. But I’ll be taking another small step.
Thank you, Elias, for showing what dedication, passion, and endurance look like in practice. Through your climb, you’ve motivated me—and probably many others—to climb harder today, tomorrow, and beyond.
Congratulations on your first 9a+.