Let’s be honest with ourselves—The minute we think about sports, images come to mind of world-class champions and elite teams in a world of high power sports. A world where peak performance is key in an outrageously profitable sports industry.
No one thinks much about the sportsman next door, who is often also in top performance condition and excels at difficult feats. One reason could be that a zealous media does not regale such sports enthusiasts on a daily basis. But let’s not forget that they exist. Among them there are many men or women who train after work with the goal of becoming first-rate competitors.
One of them is Frank Strempel, who holds down a day job as a social worker, is married and the father of two daughters.
Frank Strempel’s training day is just beginning in the evening, after a full day of work, and continues on weekends when he goes to the mountains, in hopes of conquering rock. Strempel also trains youngsters interested in climbing. He enjoys talking about what motivates him to train them, and his particular fascination with climbing.
ET: Mr. Strempel, what drives you to climb?
Frank Strempel (FS): I view myself as an experienced sport-climbing enthusiast. My consistent goal is to reach greater heights with each subsequent climb. I don’t necessarily mean that I want to scale the highest mountain. I am referring more to the level of difficulty of an ascent. I strive to advance my climbing knowledge and experience.
Furthermore, I want to test myself with increasingly difficult climbs to see my level of improvement. I am now 42 years old, and my performance is continually improving. Upon acheiving another goal, having reached the mountain’s summit after a difficult climb, I get the sense that “I’m strong, and I accomplished my goal.” It is a very thrilling feeling once you have accomplished another objective, knowing that you have done your best.
ET: What is the allure that compels you to climb?
FS: In the beginning I looked on it as a great adventure—you literally scale great heights, risking your life; you are a man and you are a hero. There are a lot of clichés I could use. But, most importantly for me, I can measure my achievements and I can give my all. One also experiences the feeling of freedom and adventure, something that is missing from everyday life.
But now I have changed, and the wish to achieve great physical accomplishments has transformed into that of placing higher value on the mental component that comes with climbing. I have gradually come to realize that any new achievement was only possible through the “mind over matter” issue. If the mind is not 100 percent involved in the effort, the body will never achieve its greatest potential. One always needs to set higher goals for oneself with new boundaries, measuring oneself against them.
My present climbs are in a category that does not allow me the opportunity to grab onto the rock or stop for a breather. One hangs from two fingers on some kind of crack, then goes on to the next crack and from there one tries to grip the next one—it’s a weird feeling. One does not even have a moment to think over the next move. Decisions have to be made in an instant. If ones mind is not 100 percent on the task at hand, if one is not sure about the specific facade one attempts to climb, when one is in doubt about one’s next move, or when one caves in to the pressure of intense stress and doesn’t focus one’s strength upon the next spot, it is extremely difficult to succeed.
I also find it extremely fascinating that one has to come to an immediate decision and within seconds, one finds out if one has made the right or wrong decision. If one made the correct decision, one moves on and if one has made the wrong decision – well, one might have an incredibly rapid descent and will possibly be saddled with a severe injury.
Being aware of the above factors give me a feeling of great strength. But, please don’t misunderstand – I’m not obsessed with the game of life or death. At the age of 25, having gone on many solo climbs, I always kept in mind my level of ability and what I could achieve at a given point in time. At the time, I had nothing that would stop a fall and all my climbs were without a rope. Yes, there were situations that were beyond my control. But, after a few years, I made another decision, “the pitcher goes often to the well, but is broken at last” – leave it alone.
ET: Can you explain a situation that was outside of your control?
FS: One time I clung to a wall and it was too late to retreat. Suddenly I experienced a new sensation in my head – I felt fear. Fear wanted to invade my mind. This fear took over my body. Then, when my entire body was saturated with fear and I began to swing—that was a terrible feeling. After that, I took hold of myself and tried to calm down. I gradually forced myself to calm down and breathe calmly. I knew that if I could not calm down, I might die, and at that moment, I really did not want to die.
From that point on, I told myself, “Okay; I don’t need this kind of thrill. I made my decision and went beyond the point, where I was sure that I no longer needed such stimulation. I knew for certain that I never wanted to have that feeling of anxiety again. Yes, there are people who are driven by such desire, and they take things much further in their climbing efforts than I ever would.
ET: Is there something like a fear of heights during your climbs?
FS: I wouldn’t say that I ever had a fear of heights. But, there is something like the respect for heights, especially since I’m quite aware that one can take a fall—a fall that could prove deadly—and with one fall, there may be no return. I don’t want to die—I want to climb.
ET: What does a climber do when one is half-way up the wall or rock and one’s strength is sapped?
FS: There is no problem if one climbs with a rope. One lays into the rope and ones friend hauls one up. If one climbs without a rope, such a feeling must never come to the foreground.
I have to admit that I learned a lot about myself during climbs. The greatest and most difficult foe is ones ego. One often messes up because one sets too high expectations or puts oneself under too much pressure, or one even may not put oneself under enough pressure. To gauge oneself correctly, one must be determined, maintain inner calm and strength and then bundle all this into one desire. This for me, is actually the challenge and the truth behind why I climb.
ET: Is this based on willpower?
FS: Yes—it absolutely is a case of willpower. There are times that one hangs on the wall, completely exhausted with hands bleeding, and knows for certain that one should have headed for home a long time ago. That is where the will-power kicks in and says, “Come on! Come on! When you have reached the top you can be absolutely sure that you got here only because of your strong mind, especially since your body had long ago exceeded the limits of its endurance.
ET: Did you have many injuries?
FS: No, I am glad to say no about that. My only problems were my ligaments, fingers and shoulders. One time I took a serious fall, sprained my ankle and strained my ligaments. It took years to finally get over the strained ligaments. But knock on wood, I never was seriously injured.
ET: How did you get interested in climbing?
FS: Today I would have to say it was because I was looking for something to take an interest in. I was a punk and then I was one of the soccer hooligans that wandered all around the country. I would say that I was a dropout and adventurer. One morning, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door my buddy Karo, wearing shorts, was standing there and matter-of-factly said, “Hurry up and lets go climbing.” That was twenty years ago. I will always remember that image. He stood there in shorts and spoke without blinking an eye, as if we were old seasoned climbers. I just tagged along and I immediately took a fancy to it.
ET: When do you think you will conclude your climbing career?
FS: I don’t think that there will ever be an end to my climbing activities. When I become older, I just have to modify my thinking and go on less difficult climbs. I see no problem with still climbing at the age of 60 or 70.