So they say. I am rather suspicious of the correlation between me enthusiastically exhorting to my climbing friends "This autumn and winter I want to climb lots of gritstone", and the weather getting incomprehensibly and relentlessly fucking atrocious. It happens most recent years, but this year has been by far the worst. We have now hit DAY 14 of rain in Glasgow, easily beating the 11 days of rain record when I moved up in 2009 (this is likely to reach 17 according to the forecast), and from all reports the grit and even the county sandstone have been little better. Apparently, scientifically, this is correlation and coincidence, not causation. My ARSE. Posting specific climbing desires angers the Weather Gods and they crush such dreams under their merciless storm fists.
So calling of the grit is wisely still up in the air, getting wet along with anything else out there. Calling of the plastic it is for the moment, andI've been training surprisingly enjoyably. Day 14 of rain may be a significantly repugnant record, Day 7 of training at TCA (spread over a few weeks) without getting pissed off, demoralised, weaker, injured, or having no skin left, is a more consolidatory record. I've tended to accept that coming out of a summer where I ended up climbing pretty damn well, I will be rubbish and weak indoors. Embracing this, I've been pottering around on weak problems for weak people, not worrying about pushing too hard, and generally felt okay. My main goals have been simple: Do fun problems so I enjoy training, and don't push too long so I trash my skin and soft tissue. Lower expectations, higher exceedence, and I've ended up feeling a bit of progression after a few sessions.
Now then, Calling Of The Spanish Limestone, anyone????
No comments:
Post a Comment