Earn It Again: The Truth About Consistency in Competition

The first time I made a semi-final at a World Cup, I called my coach to reflect on the qualification round and gush about the accomplishment. Semis were the next morning. Though proud, he said something I’ll never forget:

“The competition isn’t over. We can celebrate later.”

That’s one of the reasons we clicked right away. I didn’t take it the wrong way — I knew exactly what he meant. He flipped the switch in my brain, and I went from jumping for joy over my qualifier score to battening down the hatches for the next round.

I qualified in 9th place at that event, and with a little complacency and early celebration, that could’ve easily turned into a 20th-place finish. Instead, I held my position and finished my first semi just three spots out of finals. The mindset to keep pushing, even in new territory, stuck with me.

By contrast, I remember talking to Zach about how nervous I was before Nationals one year. Nationals is an event that pushes my mental limits even more than international events, and I always struggle with the pressure. Zach said to me,

“You’ve come in the top 10 at a World Cup. That’s your suit of armor. If I were you, nothing could make me feel pressure at an event like Nationals.”

For some people, finding confidence and composure from past achievements helps ease their nerves. After all, those accomplishments will always be yours, and nothing can take them away from you.

But for me, achievements add more weight to my mind. I feel responsible for living up to them. That’s why Nationals are so tough - I feel like I have something to prove.

Instead, it helps to think of every competition as a clean slate. Past results don’t earn you any brownie points in the next event. If you want to keep succeeding, you have to treat each event as its own challenge - independent, unpredictable, and worthy of all your respect, intensity, and focus.

Climbing is a particularly difficult sport to be consistent in. There are so many styles and techniques. So many uncontrollable variables, both physical and mental. Even the most decorated athletes can go from making a World Cup podium one weekend to missing semi-finals the next.

To be consistent, I think you need to check your history at the door and show up like it’s day one — focused, hungry, and ready to earn it all over again.

Last weekend, I competed at the Boulder World Cup in Curitiba, Brazil. It was the second World Cup of the season — and my first of 2025.

It’s no secret that I’m looking to make my first World Cup final round this year. It’s a goal I’ve been seriously chasing for a while now, and I have more conviction than ever that I can make it happen soon.

In Curitiba, I squeaked into the semi-final in 24th place - the last qualifying spot - and finished the competition in 11th, a big improvement.

In the past, I’ve been inconsistent in making semi-finals, and even more inconsistent in my performance once I’m there. That’s a fact I hadn’t truly reflected on until now.

You see, making a World Cup final is a big step. In the world of competitive climbing, it’s one of the biggest steps you can take. A goal like that requires an extra push, not just physically, but mentally. That push wasn’t there in past seasons, but it's here now.

For me, it all comes back to Libor’s words from the start:

"The competition isn’t over."

Finishing 11th in Brazil was one of the best World Cup results of my career. It was an excellent start to the season, both in the result and the performance I gave to achieve it.

But I've always applied his words to a single event, and refrained from celebrating before the fight in semis. In truth, the World Cup season is one big event, with many rounds, and the season is far from over.

This mindset is keeping me sober. It keeps my eye on the ball. I don't want Brazil to be my best score of the season. I don't want to celebrate too early.

This reminds me of why I quit social media all those years ago. I once said,

“Pride in my accomplishments made me content - and contentedness is poison to a young athlete who has to stay hungry if she wants to stay competitive.”

Boy, was 17-year-old Maddie onto something there.