“Masochism (general use) the enjoyment of what appears to be painful or tiresome.” This is basically rock climbing.
I don’t think I’ve ever spent any amount of time climbing where I didn’t ask “why do I do this to myself” or hear someone else voice this question out loud.
I guess the only answer I can provide is that when I pulled myself over the ledge of a climb on a gorgeous Spring day, bruised and slightly bloody, my friend, belaying over 50 feet below said:
“I can tell you liked it because you have the biggest smile on your face.”
Or maybe it’s like Greg Child says:
“Somewhere between the bottom of the climb and the summit is the answer to the mystery why we climb.”
I don’t know what the answer is, but I know it’s there.