Writing Challenge Day 19
Dyno- leap
A week of relentless rain had pushed all of us to the brink of boredom. I was taking down the Christmas tree in the living room when a Peter Pan-style shadow darted across the neighbor's rooftop, catching my eye. “Get down from the roof!” I yelled. Moments later, my eldest daughter effortlessly parkoured her way down via the garden shed's roof and gate. “All you have to do is ask if you want me to take you to Rockit,” I said, disgruntled. She shrugged, proclaiming she had “the heebie-jeebies” and needed to climb, to be up high, to recenter herself.
The next day, we headed to the climbing gym. This would be my first time watching her climb in a while—usually, a support worker takes her twice a week. But with the holidays and everyone taking a break over Christmas, her sessions had been put on hold.
I settled on the mat next to another mum, someone I'd met when my daughter and her son started climbing on the same day two years ago.
“Are you watching, Mum?” my daughter called out. “Yes, yes!” I replied.
With fascination, I watched her. Her gaze was steady, her breath measured. She was gearing up for a dyno—a leap of controlled power and precision. Each movement she made was a symphony of grace and strength, the culmination of countless hours spent honing her craft. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. To anyone unfamiliar with the intricacies of climbing or her abilities, it would have seemed impossibly daring, even heart-stopping. But inside, I was her silent cheerleader: You’ve got this, girl. Go for it!
Her control was impeccable—full-body commitment and explosive power seamlessly blended with perfect timing as she launched herself from one hold to the next, a good meter up and across, where she caught the jug with a firm grip mid-air. She swung three meters above the ground, suspended by one arm beneath the overhang. Quietly, I cheered: Great dynamic move!
Calmly, with the grace of a dancer, she stretched her leg upwards, hooking her heel over a massive volume. In one fluid motion, she transitioned, pulling herself over and shifting her weight effortlessly. Her other foot found balance on a tiny crimp, barely enough to be called a foothold. She stretched out and slapped the top hold with unwavering precision, claiming her victory. Cheers erupted from those watching—it was a breathtaking display.
We had just witnessed sixty seconds of ease, poise, effortless strength, and immense body control. But behind those sixty seconds lay a story of countless bruises, scratches, bleeding fingertips, and even broken glasses. We cheer for our heroes—athletes, artists, musicians, and craftspeople—as they score a goal, complete a race, or unveil a masterpiece. But we truly celebrate the unseen work behind it all: the thousands of hours spent practicing, testing, failing, and starting over again.
At such a level, there's no room for hesitation or doubt. What remains is the remarkable result of drive, perseverance, passion, self-belief, and a tireless commitment to perfecting their craft. It’s a privilege to witness that achievement—to stand in awe, offering nothing but appreciation and respect for their journey.
___
