The name Joe Simpson sounds ordinary. Nothing special about it. In fact, he kind of sounds like the kid in third grade who picked his boogers and stuck them to the desk when he thought no one was looking. However, the Joe Simpson I’m going to tell you about did something extraordinary. And he did it even though, in most respects, he’s not all that different from you or me. He also didn’t believe he could do it.
Joe Simpson was left for dead by a friend.
Simpson and Simon Yates were descending Siula Grande, a mountain in the Peruvian Andes that stands nearly 21,000 feet. It was an extra spicy climb down the mountain, one that left Simpson with a shattered lower leg and both men without food. They had a ways to go before reaching the glacier they could follow back to base camp.
A monstrous storm was blowing in. Simpson dangled on the belay rope below a cliff edge, 150 feet below Yates, who was bearing his weight and could not see him. Exhausted, Yates had no way to pull Simpson up, and Simpson couldn’t climb up the rope. Yates felt himself slipping; soon, he’d fall, and they’d each likely die. He had no choice but to cut the rope to save his own life, not knowing how far Simpson would fall to the glacier below.
That night, Yates dug a snow cave to ride out the storm. In the morning, he descended to the glacier to look for Simpson. Yates yelled and searched for him. Then he realized that Simpson had fallen into a deep crevasse in the glacier. Yates assumed his dear friend and climbing partner was dead. He trekked his way back to base camp.
Simpson, however, survived, falling over 200 feet into the bottom of the crevasse. When he regained consciousness, Simpson saw there was no way up, so he went deeper into the crevasse, hoping he’d find a passage that took him onto the face of the glacier. He found it.
He spent the next three days hopping, crawling, and dragging himself five miles back to base camp through pain that was sometimes so severe it made him lose consciousness. He had almost no water. He didn’t have a bite of food. He had no guarantee that Yates and their other friend, Richard Hawking, would still be there.
“The voice told me I was too late; time had run out.”
“In those fifteen minutes I lost whatever fight was left in me. I felt it ebb out of me with every fall as the chronic burning pain took over. I stood and fell, writhed where I fell, cried and swore, and felt sure in my heart that these were my last spastic efforts before I lay still for good.”
These were some of Simpson’s thoughts at the beginning of day three, the last of the gritting struggle that ended with him reaching his friends, the last summation of effort that culminated in Simpson saving his own skin when God himself would be justified in whispering, “Lay down, son. Let your struggle end.”
Joe Simpson was not bright and shiny. He didn’t shower his mind with positive thoughts. He did not force himself to believe. Instead, he felt sure he would die. He did, however, do something that saved his life.
After he thought time had run out and before he was sure he’d lay still for good, Simpson stated something to himself:
“I must reach camp today.”
He made a commitment. Must is not a wishy-washy word.
Before we carry Simpson and the story forward, let’s take one step back to remember that Simpson felt sure he would die after he committed to making it to base camp that day. The commitment didn’t lead to certainty or a belief in a positive outcome. Instead, it sustained action. Notice, also, the fluctuations in his mind. Negative thoughts preceded commitment and conviction; more negative thoughts followed. There was no straight and narrow climb from the valley of negativity to the lofty peak of positivity. No, he pulled himself along harsh mental terrain, which understandably skewed downward toward the negative. But he kept pulling.
Along with the commitment to make it to camp, there was something else that helped Simpson to keep pulling. He knew he didn’t have to believe his negative thoughts.
“I fancied myself lying there for centuries, waiting for a sun that would never rise. I slept in sudden stolen minutes and awoke to the same stars and the same inevitable thoughts. They talked to me without my consent, whispering dreads that I knew were untrue but couldn’t ignore. The voice told me I was too late; time had run out.”
That’s Simpson’s full statement about his mind telling him time had run out, and he’d never make it back to camp. The thoughts were inevitable; he couldn’t ignore them, but he also knew he didn’t have to listen to them. He didn’t try to force the thoughts out; he observed them, knowing he didn’t have to allow them to dictate his behavior, then he did what he knew he had to in order to save his own life. He did not become his thoughts. He acted in spite of them.
He spent that final day in agonizing forward motion. Simpson didn’t focus on the ultimate goal of making it to camp. Instead, he chunked his progress into mentally and physically manageable goals using landmarks. He’d make it to that boulder. Once there, he picked a new landmark and struggled his way to it. On he went, persisting through physical and psychic pain, stretching his efforts until after midnight and early into the next day, until he made it to camp for a tearful reunion with his friends Simon Yates and Richard Hawking.
God forbid you should ever find yourself in a situation similar to the one Joe Simpson endured. But you don’t need such an extreme to conjure your own devout measure of endurance. However, it will be helpful to act by using lessons drawn from Simpson’s story.
Understand that there is no such thing as constant positivity. Despite what gurus and pop psychology say, you don’t have to be positive at all times to make forward progress and to reach your goals. It’s an impossible expectation that sets people up for failure. Negativity will seep into your mind. You also don’t always have to believe with full certainty that you’ll make it to point B on your map. At times, you will stop believing. That’s human. However, you don’t have to listen to negative thoughts. In fact, you have to learn to allow them to exist while taking positive action despite them. And when you do stop believing, you continue to take small, sometimes seemingly insignificant, steps forward anyway — because you’re the person who keeps going.
You become the person who keeps going by making a commitment. Many, you might even say most, outcomes are out of our control. But what we do is within our control. When we commit to being the person who persistently shows up no matter what the voices say, we keep making progress.
Now, we need commitment to the outcome, even if we’re not sure we’ll achieve it, because it sets our priorities and determines the small, daily steps we’ll take. Without telling himself he must make it to camp, Joe Simpson’s focus on struggling to the next boulder wouldn’t have mattered. However, the commitment to move towards whatever you determine as your own next boulder is just as important, if not more so, than committing to reaching your own “base camp.” It defines what you do right now, no matter what the future holds. What you do right now is truly all that matters, because right now is all you truly have. Using the present as best you can shapes you into the person you want to become. You don’t always have to believe you’ll become them; you just have to act as if you will. And a curious thing happens when you commit to acting now in small ways that lead you toward the goal you’re not certain you’ll achieve — there’s a far greater likelihood that you’ll achieve it. Purpose in the moment trumps certainty in the future.
No matter where you currently stand — whether you’re just beginning your journey at Beyond Strength or if you’re a member who’s been with us for years, casting your eyes to your next horizon — commit to what you want to achieve; commit to being the person who acts daily to achieve it.
At times, you will be riddled with doubts. Negative thoughts never totally go away. You cannot be certain you’ll achieve exactly what you want. But you can be certain that if you don’t commit to the outcome, if you don’t recommit yourself each day to move yourself towards it despite what the internal and external voices tell you, the likelihood that you’ll get there dwindles.
Commit, even if, and especially when, you don’t believe.
You might also like:
- YOUR RESULTS AREN’T YOURS TO KEEP: THE TRUTH ABOUT MAINTAINING FITNESS RESULTS
- SMILE. GRIMACE. SMILE AGAIN. THE TRANSFORMATION OF RCR | 313
- FREE CONSULTATION: WHAT TO EXPECT AT YOUR FIRST BEYOND STRENGTH VISIT
- BECAUSE YOU’RE HERE: THE REAL REASON WE CHASE HARD THINGS
- A HUGE BENEFIT OF DOING CARDIO YOU PROBABLY DON’T KNOW ABOUT
- HOW TO PLAN A HYBRID ATHLETE TRAINING WEEK
- HOW A HYBRID ATHLETE SHOULD PLAN THEIR TRAINING DAY
- 4 REASONS WHY YOUR ENDURANCE PLATEAUED
- HOW TO TRACK YOUR FITNESS PROGRESS
- GAMING YOUR WEARABLES: HOW TO BEAT YOUR FITNESS TRACKERS INSTEAD OF THEM BEATING YOU
- MORPHEUS HEART RATE TRAINING: WHAT IT IS, WHY WE USE IT, AND HOW YOU CAN GET THE MOST OUT OF IT
- HOW TO SET GOOD GOALS
- WHEN CAN YOU EXPECT REAULTS FROM TRAINING?
- YOU’RE NOT OLD, YOU’RE JUST ACTING LIKE IT
- RELATIVE STRENGTH: WHAT IT IS, WHY WE TEST IT, AND HOW TO BUILD IT
- EUSTRESS TRAINING: HOW TO LIFT WEIGHTS AND MANAGE STRESS AT THE SAME TIME
- WANT TO MAKE PROGRESS? PUT SOMETHING HARD ON THE CALENDAR
- HOW (AND WHY) OUR YEAR-LONG TRAINING PLAN WORKS
