On the Mend

For months now I have been in recovery mode, healing up and trying to get back to where I was before my injury. The road may not have been perfectly tarred but it continues to be a scenic journey of introspection, self realisation and constant adjustment. There were many sad days and a great deal of frustration along the way but the break has given me new perspective. There is nothing quite like a shift in focus to force you to get to the root of what it is that really excites you about climbing.

The last few weeks have proven that I will soon be back where I was. I have been surfing and trad climbing and even getting back to a bit of fiction writing. These are things that I neglect when I begin to train vigilantly. Having adjusted to life without training, it is both exciting and intimidating to get back into it properly. I have caught a glimpse of what it is that I have been missing out on, having been so focused on climbing for so many years. Although it has been great to reflect on this, it has also made me more aware of how valuable having a focus like climbing is to my well being.

This year I have started training in a much more structured way and early into the program I am seeing the results. I am in about the third week of a power oriented phase of training and I can feel that I will have a strong power base to move on from. My sessions have to be very intense and specific, allowing time for work schedules and life. Although I have not been entirely vigilant at sticking to the program, it is becoming increasingly part of my new routine. Only a few weeks in and climbing is fun again. Everything from easy but adventurous multi pitch climbing to boulder competitions have got me remembering why it is that I want to be a climber for as long as humanly possible.

Utopia is a three pitch route graded about 13. It requires a fair amount of route finding and as it traverses a fair amount, it was as intimidating for the seconder as it was for the leader. I was fortunate enough to climb this route again recently. It was good to see my friend Greg Thompson at home in this kind of territory. He kept a cool head on lead on the first pitch and contributed valuable experience to the team. His optimism never waivers and he is always game for the next challenge. He would be an asset on any mentally bold route.

Greg’s athletic knowledge from days as a competitive cyclist have given me good motivation to get strong and competition climbing fit again. We had a relatively novice climber with us, Jo, who managed to pull his leading pitch out of the bag, placing excellent gear. Despite fear induced nausea, Jo held his own and shows the  crucial ability to keep going despite being scared. I was reminded how much more experience I need in this realm of climbing, but it was so good to be sitting on a ledge,  yelling “off belay!” to somebody somewhere below me. There is something very special about watching birds fly below you.

On the single pitch front, I have racked up two classics. Child of Darkness and the Flames of Sunset. These are the kinds of gems that will keep me going back to Monteseel’s dreamy single pitch perfection.

On the sport front, I have been repeating old favourites and I even managed to tick off a nemesis, the Last Straw (28/7c), after months of pretending it wasn’t there. It went easily in an afternoon and it feels like new projects are lining up everywhere.

I am very glad to have had a few key individuals around during my recovery time. It has been an emotional time and one of healing on many levels. To Greg B, thanks for being there when there was nobody else. To Jackie, you really are AWESOME. To Greg T, thanks for reminding me of my athletic potential. To Tristan for your unwavering patience and support on so many levels (please try not to fall out of the sky again too soon). To Jo, thanks for the extra joy you have added, all the belays in the rain and early morning surfs that have kept me sane. To Scott, Trent and Roger for the use of your racks and many golden belays. Garret, Brig and Muff, thanks for your ever present friendship. uMuntu ngumuntu ngabantu.

Link

Inspiration from Slovenia

A good read and some sick sends. Thanks for the inspiration and ajde Jernej!

Sparks to Ignite the Flames of a Hard Trad Revolution

Click HERE to read some food for thought. It seems I am getting back into things slowly.

I have been avoiding this blog post

I have been avoiding this blog post for a long time, the one where I tell you about the build up to the World Champs. It felt easier not to tell you all about the preparation I did or how I was fitter than I have ever been.

I have been ignoring the need to tell you about that one moment when I didn’t stick a move at my gym and it shattered my dreams for this year’s competition. It was a move that I have done many times in training. It felt silly to explain that I was illustrating dynamic movement to a student of mine. I did not want to tell you how this time I swung off of the hold and didn’t control the pendulum. I haven’t mentioned how the mats were bigger and safer than any pad I could have asked for or how unexpected the cracking sound was as my elbow dislocated on impact and the bones of my wrist and radius fractured.

I thought it would be simpler if I did not express in writing that the only reason I managed to relocate the joint while I was lying on the mats was with a single thought in mind: Paris. When I turned the fall into a way of explaining better spotting techniques to my student, attempting to continue with the lesson until his mother saw my colour was near white, it was a great way of not facing the reality that I would not compete this year. I knew it on impact. The x-rays were a formality.

I thought I would gloss over these details and wait until my blogging could return to something exciting like my next project. Telling you what it was like not to get on that plane or seeing the empty slot in the running order and my name on the IFSC TV screen because it was too late to take my name off of the list is not quite as exciting as that feeling you get when you walk up to the first boulder of the qualifying rounds.  It is not fun to read that my South African team kit was packed and ready to go, that my travel plans were made and that there was a host of friends I was ecstatic see for the first time in over a year, only to realise that I would be back home, in a plaster cast wishing I was there. I felt it better not to try to put down in words what I was feeling because I didn’t know myself. I did not realise that it was not just missing the competition that would make for boring blogging. Even still that not going to Fontainbleau and not seeing my sister who I was meeting in Paris was really not very interesting. Spending 5 weeks in a cast and many more in rehabilitation would leave for much drier reading than all of the boulders I would have tried to crush and the French I would inevitably been able to practice.

Reading about disappointment is uninspiring. Reading about recovery is not nearly as cool as following training blogs, but I assure you that reading about recovery is a lot more exciting than trying it out yourself.