in pursuit of the gifts we might receive

We've all seen some crazy adrenaline junkie huck off a 70 foot cliff and then later tell the cameraman the line wasn't steep enough, or that the adventures available in the lower 48 no longer satisfy some urge they have. These people sound (and might actually be) insane, but I think I agree to a certain degree with those who are constantly in pursuit of the next biggest challenge... but not exactly in the same way.

I have been thinking recently about what it is that causes me to get immense satisfaction from something that seems painful and/or dangerous. Not only that, but why would I pursue a difficult route to a mountain summit when there is an easier way available to get to the same endpoint? (You may also question the reasoning behind hiking up/underestimating Mt. Evans recently especially after having driven up several times and therefore in theory having nothing new to accomplish.) It seems the reward increases as the pain or danger does, however I don't think that's because I lose my contentment with what has been already achieved, as is often stated by the adrenaline junkie. I think the cause instead is a greater understanding of (and a need for) the bounty. It is as if I am parched for whatever that sensation or emotion is, and the only way to quench the thirst is to go asking for more from whatever sport I am in pursuit of, in hopes of the sport yielding some of its gifts to me. This might sound blasphemous, but it is almost a religious pursuit. The joy is almost the same.

Maybe an example would help. I've been bouldering indoors quite frequently for the last year or so (after having taken many years off) and have been increasingly recognizing said pursuit and its rewards as my climbing progresses. Recently I feel like I've been able to read the routes easier, climb harder and/or longer problems without tiring, suppress the fear of going for a big move high off the floor, and ultimately feel the bliss of finishing a problem I couldn't have finished a while ago. Seeing the light, or hearing the tuning fork more clearly, you know? It seems like I have developed a keener eye for a problem with beautiful movement, which makes me pursue it that much more. It sounds crazy but it feels really good to reach for a tiny crimp or painful sloper and hang there while you move your feet in preparation for the next move, then again, and again, etc. until you get to the top and your arms are completely fried. It's as if the pain/work/burn is in actuality relaxing and comforting. I'm not a good runner, but this might be compared to runner's high. The same could also be said for riding a new mountain bike trail and being able to read the terrain to know when you really need to go all out on a steep section, know which gear to be in at all times, or pick the most appealing line through that gnarly rock garden. Maybe it sounds like a pious recognition of progress made, but it's more than that. I'm just not sure exactly what "it" is but it seems to be an addiction.

In Seven Years In Tibet, Heinrich Harrer (Brad Pitt) explains to the Dalai Lama what he loves about mountaineering:

The absolute simplicity. That's what I love. When you're climbing your mind is clear and free from all confusions. You have focus. And suddenly the light becomes sharper, the sounds are richer and you're filled with the deep, powerful presence of life.

Maybe "it" in his case is simply, as the book is titled, The Freedom of the Hills.

Whether the sport is skiing, climbing, riding, or anything else, hopefully you find the same thing and passionately pursue the gifts.