Too many times in life I have looked at things I wanted to do, paths I wanted to take or choices I wanted to make and felt like somehow, there was some unspoken rule against doing what I wanted to--simply because when I looked around, no one else was doing it. As far back as my college years, ideas very similar to what LivingVertical has become were kicked around at keg parties but I never acted on them because in my mind, if it was a good idea, then someone else would already be doing it.
Another hole I have stepped into at times (very often of recently) is thinking that the things I want to do are only realistic for "other" people who aren't me. Not too rational, is it? It's this instinctual denial that always crops up and defers to others for no good reason.
Climbing in Joshua Tree before the Project365 screening on Saturday night. A little chilly but great fun!
With all the introspection that has been taking place over the last week or so I have been recognizing that now more than ever, I need to abandon this mindset. Climbing more. Thinking, doubting less. More action. Less talk. Less worrying who reads my meaningless and self involved blog posts. I feel guilty "abandoning" the online way in favor of the ease of climbing, but I have to follow my heart. I know that the real work is found on social media and that goofing off and risking life and limb is self indulgent childs-play.
So bear with me and forgive--because I have logged nearly as many days of climbing in 2014 so far as I did in all of 2013, and I can't promise that I will slow my roll any time soon. Being on the road and screening the documentary is wonderful and all, but February looks significantly more open, and I have some plans to get cracking once I am back in Zion. I'm debating a few smaller objectives but I feel like I need to grind down the areas of mediocrity in my life through some suffering that only climbing can adequately provide.
Back on the road--embracing car dwelling--and the amazing freedom and experiences that go along with the discomfort. This was my view waking up along 15 in California.
Right now I am in Joshua Tree (California) preparing for the final screening before I head home. I probably should have said something about that in the introduction--but what the hell, people, this is my blog and I'll structure it how I want! In any case, during my time in Joshua Tree, I have been discovering adventure through climbing new, previously unclimbed routes. This is something I have never done before because I thought that kind of thing was for other people. You know, "real" climbers.
Leading the FA (first ascent) of "Nic-arete and Insulin" 5.9+, my first ever new route!Working out some moves on a possibly unclimbed boulder--some really cool lines on this one!
Nope. Turns out any hack can go out there and look with fresh eyes and find their own masterpiece in stone. At the end of the day, that's all anyone is really doing--hack or pro, it's all a game! There is never a perfect time or an invitation. There are always opportunities but even then, more of then than not we have to create them--or at least recognize them and reach out to take them. No opportunity will do any good if we don't have the will to seize it.
This is Tyler. I had the privilege to climb his new routes during my time in Joshua Tree. Tyler has one hand and still crushes it. No excuses, just finds a way to get it done. Thats motivating!
So yeah, I went out and got to climb some new routes. No big deal. But also at the same time, kind of a big deal. So, now I have just a little more motivation and confidence to go out there and push myself further on new terrain--to fulfill my vision for my climbing. That means doing more, talking, worrying and posting less.
Joshua Tree was a wonderful experience thanks to this man, Todd. He and his family hosted me, took me climbing entertained me and are wonderful friends. Todd opened his home to the community where we screened the film with over 60 people in attendance and he went to great lengths to hype the event and get people out!
Lots of people showed up--and we had some star power at the show-- Tucker Tech and Jim Bridwell. Climbing LEGENDS.New friends, heading back from climbing rocks. Simple, but profound.
Fast forward several days and I am back home in Zion. The weather is pretty fine and my calendar is pretty clear for the month of February so I am preparing for some bigwall adventures--some solo, others with a partner as it works out. Either way, I need to take time to re-focus on climbing and push myself in a different way. I've come to the conclusion that while diabetes is an invisible illness, the answer isn't to make this condition more noticeable than it needs to be. The answer is to make LIFE with diabetes more visible as something that totally kicks ass. Because it can. And it does.
Working on technical systems in prep for February. Starting small to go big and go beyond Diabetes!
Climbing photos have cams and ropes and harnesses in them. But no one climbs up a thousand feet off the ground to focus on the stuff that got them there. Diabetes is what we make of it, and I am going to make it my reason to rage in February!
I've always climbed for freedom. Trying to start climbing for security now feels somehow...wrong. So, I'm going to go ahead and let go of that approach and not do that.
I always imagined that life after Project365 would take shape naturally--that someone would just call me up and offer me a way to support myself through more climbing projects. Or perhaps if that was not to be, then Netflix would ask to buy distribution rights and I would be able to stop the incessant emailing and haggling over screening fees, and having to sell enough tee shirts to pay for gas and food to get back home where I start the process over again.
Did I mention that I'm going to be a father this spring? Everyone keeps giving me pitying admonishment to prepare me for my life imploding into debt, sleeplessness, and conventional blah-dom. "But it's ok" they assure me, "It's the most wonderful experience--you won't even mind that it's happening". Ok so I'll have some sedatives on my way to the gallows. Thanks for that...
Then I step back and think about it--I've always been broke but I somehow get by. Sleep? I've never had much use for it under the most ideal circumstances. And blah-dom? Well, that is a choice. A challenge--and one I am looking forward to taking on, because I do my best work with the deck stacked against me and if I'm listening to the well meaning looky-loos, all signs point to my hanging up my ropes and signing up for a monster.com account.
After screening in La Jolla and Carlsbad this weekend with many friends from Insulindependence in attendance, I was taken back to the origins of Project365.
I remembered the same sorts of admonishments and concerns, the same types of dire predictions and yet, at the end of each day, it came down to making choices to continue, even when it felt like there was no hope. There was no thought of success--or any real strict concept of what that success would entail, other than surviving the experience--a task that changed shape on a moment by moment basis.
Over the last year I have been thinking too much of how I can "try" to continue the success of Project365. I don't like how that has made me feel about what I am doing. It feels like I am trying to plan my next steps in order to get approval from people and companies. This is the opposite of inspiration. It may be the way to build a business, but it seems like the surest way to dilute the strength of conviction. Why we climb is as (or more) important than what we climb.
Over this past weekend I have been realizing that risk and the possibility of failure is what I chose from the very start. That's not a bad thing. Quite the opposite, it's the best part of this whole game. It's not good business to take on another climbing project that could fail totally. No one wants to put money into an expedition and hear that the rock was too loose or that the weather was too bad to summit. From the sidelines, the only thing that matters is the summit--and how you get there and why are just details. But I take pride in the details. I take pride in being committed if a bit deluded. I'd rather toil in obscurity than sell out my passion. There are plenty of athletes planting company flags on well known summits that can be bought by anyone; starting in 2014 we will bring our diabetes to the places that fire up the imagination rather than conjuring up images of what has been done repeatedly.
Project365 was not a stunt, it is a statement that continues to speak beyond the world of diabetes. Some people seem to think that I should accept the limitation of playing within a box of smaller relevance. I feel like this message is just starting to take shape and that it's a lot bigger than just diabetes. Accepting limitations is a choice. Going beyond those limits is also a choice. It's good to feel the hunger again--it heightens the senses. Not hunger for approval or funding but for adventure and for the gritty suffering of true commitment!
The best part is that I am not alone in this endeavor; Team LivingVertical provides a growing community that reflects this passion and irreverence for convention. Diabetes because we must; climbing because we can. Oh, and I still haven't finished drafting the manifest for the 2014 project yet--but it should be done soon, once I get back from screening the documentary in Joshua Tree on Jan 25th. I am done doubting myself (for now) and ready to follow my heart into another epic tale, so the inspiration of some high desert crushing will undoubtedly get the creative juices flowing and bring the vision into clearer focus!
From the base of the rock, the sound of the quick-draws caught on a gust that pushes through the narrow corridor behind Turtle Rock reverberates, a climber’s personal wind chime. I squat by my backpack, open the lid and pull out my glucometer. The red that bubbles up from the prick on my finger is the same as the stripes of iron that bleed down the steep, golden granite. It’s at the base of the climb that I still feel my diabetes and know that I have it. It’s tangible: test strips, syringes, vials and glucose tablets. These are the things I want to forget.
My test strip sucks at my blood, every day it pulls in some of my life, five times, seven times, sometimes up to 15 times. And there’s that comic little blood drop that flashes on my glucometer. I never watch it, because it reminds me of that prick, specifically that re-prick when the first fails to produce that little bead of magenta. It’s at the base that I know I am a diabetic, but it’s here to that it begins: my transformation.
I have always felt a connection to nature. My dad took me out into the unknown before I can remember most other things. And what I remember most is forgetting. I’m not unconscious though; I feel connected and hyper-aware of my surroundings. Still, something is forgotten that I want to be lost and it is good to be rid of this bad memory; the knowledge of something foreboding, the idea that no matter how well you control your blood sugar it still may not be good enough.
So I tie in, reweaving my figure eight, watching a line of ants walk up the quartz and feldspar peppered rock in front of me. There’s the rubbing of branches and leaf upon leaf that creates an audible texture and I feel it course through my body. And there’s that clanking, the anchors waiting, the entire climb before for me. But then there’s that caustic beeping of my glucometer, tearing me away from where I want to be, reminding me again about reality. Whatever the number, I am fine as long as I can go back to forgetting, as long as I can slap my hands together and watch the chalk plume drift away into the desert and grab on to the holds that lead away from here. I want to move far from the thoughts of nerve damage, distance myself from the images of lost limbs and blindness.
I’m good. The number says, so I can go and get lost now. A breeze rises and takes that mechanized scream from my glucometer far away, to be forgotten in the yuccas and Joshua Trees and Juniper. I make my first movement upwards and I forget about my diabetes. It is here that I am truly free. As I climb, I feel a complete attachment to the world without the knowledge of my having diabetes and there is nothing more that I can ask for. My wind chimes play against the rock. The evening desert air feels pure as I methodically inhale and exhale, my thoughts solely connected to this piece of rock. And then I’m at the top; I look down at my fiancé and smile and for a moment, three minutes, may be five, I have lived without diabetes. It’s gone.
I'm not great at the holiday postings. Maybe it's because I'm a bit of a curmudgeon and don't really "do" holidays. I don't do new years resolutions in particular. But this is a new year and I am looking forward at what could be in store. I have been told that I have "a lot on my plate" and that certainly is the truth. This is going to be a critical year for LivingVertical as more unknowns are on the horizon. My goal and my greatest challenge is following my heart, because it invariably leads me beyond the point that my eyes can see.
I feel like I wind up saying these kinds of things a lot--basically that I am closing in on a crunch, and then somehow, things come together, usually in a way that I couldn't predict, and suddenly we are off and running on another adventure. So I write this fully prepared to accept blame for my worrying and lack of faith when things really start clicking together. I do expect things to pick up--part of the "process" for me always starts with accepting the possibility of failure, dealing with it and just deciding to go for it because there is no other option.
I see the pieces to the puzzle and they are all there. Team LivingVertical is growing. Everyone on the team has a lot of passion, experience and talent to offer. The Project365 Documentary is complete. The Kilimanjaro video is complete. So now what? I am trying to figure out how to put these pieces together to keep moving forward because there is a lot left to climb and share with the world--and my world is about to look a lot different as I take on the biggest project yet: parenthood. This means less room to fail. Less flexibility, less freedom and much bigger stakes.
There is part of me that looks at what I am doing with my life and says 'well, if you've put two full years into this and it's still sputtering and struggling to get off the ground, maybe it's run its course.' Then there's part of me the looks at it and says 'on the other hand, if it's still sputtering then maybe it's just one little boost away from really getting off the ground.' These "warring factions" have been going back and forth in my head since the inception of Project365 so this is nothing new--but now with higher stakes the conversation has taken a new turn.
At times I feel like I am outside myself looking in on the possibilities of the future with morbid curiosity, wondering what will happen if I just let things run their course. I feel like Captain Ahab in rabid pursuit of the "white whale" and despite the possibility of a catastrophic ending, I am committed to going "over the falls" if that's what it takes to know the outcome. Knowing the pieces are all there means that I have to at least see if I can learn how to make them all fit.
So...for 2014 I will be getting the documentary out there, while trying to pay rent and planning another big, outlandish climbing project to one of the most spectacular alpine ranges I have had the privilege of visiting. As I sort out those details, I will be training and Team LivingVertical will be preparing for this new group challenge as we seek out the hard way, and then go for it.
Long story short, if I were going to make a new years resolution it would be to opt for more hoping, fretting and looking for what hasn't been done yet--then doing it. Who knows--it's crazy enough, it might just work!
This has been a long time coming friends! I struggled with the narrative on this because so much of my concentration has been on Project365 and getting that out and available to be screened and shared. The holidays for me have consisted of work--or what might seem like work if I didn't love what I am doing. It's not entirely conventional to have steel-cage death match days with ones computer over the holidays, but this time has actually helped give me some breathing room and I am really stoked to be able to share this edit with you before we head into 2014.
This short film is just about my personal experience climbing Kili this past year and it's not necessarily representative of anyone elses. It was hard for me to write this narrative for the film because Kili is by far the most notable of all my ascents to date and it was a huge honor to be included in the expedition--however at the end of the day, I didn't see fireworks or have that big culminating moment on the summit. It felt like a long walk up a steep hill, while sucking air through a straw. I struggled a lot feeling sick and my blood glucose was frequently uncooperative. I was out of my comfort zone and I didn't feel like I was doing a great job of being a "good diabetic".
I have talked at length of empowerment and "going beyond" diabetes, but when the rubber meets the road, it can really be a junk show--and the pretty timelapses and video clips cost a lot emotionally and physically to bring back. I keep coming back to the blue-collar ideals that I believe in regarding diabetes management--we have to learn how to accept the losses and dig deep enough to find a "win" buried in all the mess.
A dear friend once related to me a fable about three brothers who were each given a pile of horse dung. The first one was very offended and unhappy. The second was skeptical, but used the manure to plant and fertilize a rose garden. The third, rolled up his sleeves and got down to business digging frantically with his hands--and when questioned about this response he replied "I just KNOW there's a horse in here somewhere!"
I think we all go through those phases and while I'd love to be transforming horse dung into beautiful roses, sometimes I'm having to settle for rolling up the sleeves and going for broke! It all comes down to how we choose to think and act on our circumstances. Please enjoy and feel free to share this short--it's one more piece of the puzzle, one more vote for healthy empowered lives with diabetes.
If you have been following what we have been up to here, you may remember our first SweetestSummit D-Family Adventure Weekend in 2013. It was without question, a life changing moment for me and for many of us here in the trenches at LivingVertical. It was a chance to truly share the mission of diabetes empowerment through hands on adventure and experiential learning in the wild--and it went so well that we want to do it again in 2014 by building on our first venture.
Here's the catch--we put on this past summer's offering with next to no budget. We had to borrow gear from local friends and swap in our own when we exhausted our resources--and it was a great outing, albeit small and intimate. Our goal is to raise funds to expand these efforts to more families with diabetes by auctioning off two round-trip Jetblue airplane tickets by Christmas!
Stefanie has recently been opening the SweetestSummit website and we are slowly developing that alongside LivingVertical to extend hands on programs to PWD (people with diabetes). Our goal is to keep the SweetestSummit programs 100% volunteer run and funded by contributions from the public. So. If you're thinking of making a grand gesture through a gift this holiday season, please consider bidding on these tickets up for auction. Not only is it a great way to take a vacation or get away--the money from your purchase will go 100% to helping kids with diabetes get outside and empowered.
As always--thank you for helping us go beyond diabetes! Every time we need help, it comes through. If you can't bid personally--you can always share this fundraising campaign with others!
Special thanks to LivingVertical creative director Nick Percell for sharing these awesome photos!
November brings with it many unique opportunities for sharing awareness and empowerment. I know its just beginning but I am excited to see the Big Blue Test off and running with almost 8,000 tests logged. I have been taking advantage of this initiative by getting active and sharing those experiences. I have also been working on a couple of initiatives of my own, posting a photo a day on the Instagram and Facebook feeds--detailing the "diabetes" that lies beneath the surface of seemingly unrelated photos I've taken over the last several years of climbing and adventuring.
It's really encouraging to see record numbers of people interacting with and learning about diabetes through this photo-initiative. I have always believed that life with diabetes is not about diabetes--its about LIFE. Being able to show the hidden facets of life with diabetes through examining beautiful images I have shot while pursuing "life" to the fullest, seems like a neat way to encourage people to look through the "other end of the telescope" when it comes to understanding diabetes.
But lets take it one step further. What if there was a team of climbers with diabetes working along side me to advance diabetes empowerment, reach out to their individual communities, and be part of future projects, films, events and initiatives? Well, on World Diabetes Day (November 14th) I will be proud to introduce to you Team LivingVertical from our first team climbing event, tentatively in Las Vegas where Project365 was concluded. We will be logging BigBlueTests and blowing up our social media channels while getting after it together in the vertical world!
This is the next step in a grassroots progression and it's exciting to be moving forward with other diabetic climbers who have a lot of perspective to bring to LivingVertical and share with you. I won't spill all the beans just yet, but Team LivingVertical is becoming a reality.
If you're reading along thinking 'why not me?' Then click here to see if you could be part of the team. You've made it this far along, so you have some idea of what we do and who we are. If you got a passion for pulling down and are affected by diabetes, let us know--more is better!
What is "Diabetes Awareness"? It means different things to different people and I am always reevaluating what it means to me. To me, Diabetes Awareness is a balance of showing the struggle and the triumph of living with an invisible illness like this. It's not all about meters and numbers and carb counting and injections. It's all of that--plus the places we go, the people we care about, the goals that motivate us. Our reasons to keep our Diabetes under control are as big a part of the process as the mechanics of daily treatment.
For the month of November, I will be sharing this vision with an image a day on the LivingVertical facebook page. Each image tells a story, but there is always a story of what went into the image, and what it means to me in terms of life with diabetes--because life with diabetes is still about LIFE.
It's been about 24 hours since I returned from my most recent travels. Africa. Europe. Driving across the US. Lots of ups and downs both in terms of topography and diabetes. Going into this trip I felt like I had things pretty well sorted out in terms of my diabetes. Then, somehow my control started slipping and suddenly my sugar won't come down despite repeated correction injections. Then, out of nowhere on some days, my sugar decides to plummet with barely any provocation.
It's been 14 years--almost 15 now. Shouldn't this be getting easier?
Diabetes is a mental challenge with a physical manifestation. I don't struggle with the physiology of diabetes. I struggle with the psychology of this condition. Yeah, I climb mountains for fun and I like steep places. I know that diabetes doesn't have to stop me from anything I want to achieve. I also know that since I am in control, my ability to flip that switch on and accomplish seemingly significant feats is only a hairs-breadth away from a complete lack of desire to try and the utter acceptance of defeat--and when I fall into that rut, I can really wind up taking a beating--even in spite of the massive outpourings of love and support that have come in the last week or so--depression isn't rational--it doesn't need a reason to kick you in the shorts.
It's a fine line to walk. I use diabetes as my motivation but some days, I just don't want to play this game anymore. Today I wallowed in absolute despair as my blood sugar skyrocketed to 295 as I sat at the computer, trying to cobble together a workable climbing project for 2014 that will leave room for training and the Project365 film tour this fall/winter. Suddenly I just felt like I wanted to start updating my resume and cash in my chips. The documentary is finished, or just about. We have that paid for and that means we finished what we set out to do, right?
It's really hard to be yourself sometimes. Maybe I lost myself in Project365 and I don't know how to function with bigger projects and the knowledge that people are watching. Maybe caring too much about succeeding is the problem. Or maybe, I have been too focused on what I "should" be doing and what people expect of me. Maybe it's time to just get back to basics. It may be a little self indulgent but I feel like I have slipped away from just being myself and really sharing my struggle through this blog. It's become more business-like and "what's new with LivingVertical" and while that's all well and good, it's not...me.
I finally stepped away from the computer this afternoon to go for a walk to check the mail and bring my blood sugar down. I managed to hate every square inch of the sidewalk between home and the post office and it made me realize that I am upset with myself and that it is my own complacency that has caused a lot of these issues. Once the project ended, it was easy to be lazy. I had earned that right...but once you fall into that routine, it gets harder to get back on the wagon.
So now, it's back to square one. I get to go through the process of building myself back up and seeing how high I can reach. I know a lot of people see the summit photos and that's their takeaway as to how I live my life with diabetes. For me, those summits are the bright light at the end of the tunnel that make it worthwhile for me to get out of bed and keep fighting what feels like an impossible battle.
It's not easy to be yourself when you don't know who to be or what you are. But I know that I usually wind up making sense of things when I fling myself out of the frying pan and into the fire. So...that is what I am going to do. I am not a businessperson, or a blogger or an artist or an advocate or a spokesperson. Im Steve. I have diabetes and I climb things. The rest is just details--so I have to get back to being me again, because none of this was supposed to be easy in the first place--it just has to be worthwhile.
As I mentioned in the previous post, we left Rushmore with the intent to go straight to the town of Custer, set up camp there, and save the climbing for the following day. We had to head through Custer State Park to get from point A to point B anyway so I twisted Stefs arm to get her to let me check out a few routes that we might want to come back to on subsequent outings.
As we made our way up through the granite spires known as "The Needles" I pulled the car to the side of the road into a small pullout. The Needles Highway is quite narrow and as crooked as a Chicago politician. I extricated myself from the cramped vehicle and dodged a minivan full of gawking tourons and made my way down towards the spires. The charm of the Needles lies not only in the barely protectable nature of the climbs but also in its elusive layout which, taken with the shortage of quality guidebooks can leave a visiting climber completely lost only a few hundred feet from the road.
