Climbers prepare in very different ways. In his book Adapt, coach Kris Hampton describes four approaches: For Nothing, For Everything, For Something, and For Anything.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized: these don’t just describe climbing. They describe learning, too. And I’ve lived through all of them—both on the wall and in the classroom.
Preparing For “Nothing”: Mimicking Your Peers
When I first started climbing, I didn’t have a plan. I just climbed with friends, copied their beta (the sequence of moves), and did what they did. Honestly, it worked for a while. That social energy carried me up a lot of routes.
But there’s a limit to progress when you’re only copying others. My strengths weren’t their strengths. My weaknesses weren’t their weaknesses. To keep growing, I eventually had to figure out what I needed to work on—not just what worked for my friends.
Students often start this way too. You sit where your friends sit, study how they study, maybe even copy their homework style. That social start is a great way to get going, but it won’t take you the whole way. At some point, you’ll need a plan that fits you.
Key takeaway: Social learning is a great beginning. But eventually you’ll need to lean into your own strengths and weaknesses.
Preparing For “Everything”: Overwhelmed by Not Knowing What Matters
Later, I swung too far the other way. I thought the problem was not doing enough, so I tried to train for everything.
- I’d ride my bike for multipitch endurance.
- Hangboard for finger strength.
- Boulder for power.
- Hike for stamina.
My training plans were so complex they took weeks to create—not because they were perfect, but because I couldn’t yet tell what really mattered. And once I’d start working my plan, I’d immediately find myself distracted by the next “crucial nugget of wisdom” found in a social media post.
I did the same thing as a student. I’d make massive exam outlines, 20+ pages long, trying to capture every possible concept. Then I’d try to memorize them. I worked endlessly, but I was still getting C’s. I couldn’t distinguish the core ideas from the noise. I was trying to build expertise in the minutiae without a firm foundation of core principles first.
Key takeaway: It’s easy to overdo it when you’re new. The hard part is learning what matters most for you—and letting the rest go.
Preparing For “Something”: Overcorrecting into Hyper-Focus
So I overcorrected again. I stripped everything down to a single goal: send this one climb. I went to the same wall day after day, rehearsed the same 60 feet of moves, and eventually I clipped the chains on my first 5.12a.
I was thrilled. But the very next day, on the route just to the left, it was like I had never climbed before. My gains didn’t transfer.
I did the same thing as a learner. I poured everything into math. I got my A there, but I phoned it in for physics and chemistry. Thanks only to generous curves did I pass. Hyper-focus gave me a win in one class while leaving me fragile in the others.
Key takeaway: Focus is powerful, but over-focus leaves you brittle. Success in one narrow lane doesn’t always transfer.
Preparing For “Anything”: Process Over Answers
The breakthrough came when I finally understood what climbing (and learning) are really about: adaptability.
In climbing, that meant identifying what held me back on a route, then practicing it in as many variations as I could: different angles, grips, move sizes, mirrored body positions. It wasn’t about rehearsing a single climb. It was about developing the skills and processes that would transfer to any climb.
In learning, the same shift happened in grad school. I realized the point of homework wasn’t to get the right answer—it was to build a process I could adapt to solve new problems. I wish I could go back in time and teach my sophomore self this crucial lesson.
Once I zoomed out, I stopped measuring success by how many problems I got right and started asking: What skills am I building here? How can I adapt them for the next challenge?
That’s when everything changed. I built a meta-framework for problem solving that gave me confidence across subjects. I could adapt my framework to any subject: As a postdoc, I went from seven years of studying jet engines to contributing meaningfully in nuclear power and cancer treatment research in just a month—not because I knew the content, but because I trusted my process.
Key takeaway: True preparation means building adaptable processes and learning to adjust them in real time as you face new challenges.
When Pain Doesn’t Point to the Solution
Adaptation also means knowing which feedback to trust. Climbing taught me that the pain isn’t always the problem. Fingers uncurling at the crux don’t mean I need stronger fingers. The real solution is in my feet, and in how I conserved energy lower down on the wall.
School works the same way. If you’re up all night before an exam, the pain shows up at midnight. But the real issue was 3 PM, when you spent hours polishing a low-value homework assignment for another class.
Key takeaway: Adaptation also means learning to act on the right feedback, not just the loudest pain.
Takeaway
Climbers who prepare “for anything”—by building adaptable processes, not just rehearsing answers—are the ones who keep growing.
Students who do the same don’t just pass classes. They build resilience and adaptability that carry them through every challenge ahead.
Reflection: Which type of preparation describes you right now? And if you zoom out, what’s the real challenge that needs your attention?
