I realise now, decades too late, I've gone about it all the wrong way around... Fat arse over useless man tit (okay they're pecs, but pecs don't get you ticking big numbers unless the rest of the body is leanly aligned towards climbing). Cart before donkey, tail wagging daschund etc etc.
I guess things started normally: Little climbing wall at school, a few trips out with a school club and a friend, learn to lead with him then Plas Y Brenin, more climbing at uni, the standard trips and places, cranking away at an early bouldering wall because it's fun. Oh and the obligatory 4 year break due to a breakdown, mental health collapse, complete isolation, that's a normal part of the path too, right??
Move to Sheffield, restart life, restart climbing. Grit. The Edge. Lime in summer. Wales. The Foundry. Bouldering mats. The Lakes. The Works. Convincing people it's worth driving to The Roaches. Etc etc. So far, so normal, despite being friends with Pylon King.
But the rot starts to creep in.... The Llyn, Carn Gowla, Gairloch, Galloway, North York Moors, South Stack. Ledge shuffling. Exploration. Adventure. Proper trad. Esoterica. Hidden trad gems. New crags all the time.
Can you spot it yet??
- Was I at the Cornice? (no) Two Tier? (no) Malham? (yes - did Wombat and Crossbones and Midnight Cowboy), Kilnsey? (yes - did Dodger Direct) Gordale? (no) LPT? (no).
- Was I pushing redpointing to get stronger and fitter - no.
- Was I training on proper boards instead of fun circuits - no.
- Was I mixing in hard long term boulder projects rather than just exploring venues - no.
- Was I using a fingerboard - no.
- Was I having any structure - no.
- (Was I aware that I had a "ticking bomb" of a non-existent IVC vein in my chest and I'd be struck down with DVTs and unavoidably gain over 10kg and then have a body with fairly mature muscles and connective tissues that would suddenly have to cope with that - no).
So that's where I got it the wrong way around: From a fairly neutral start to a climbing career, I took the Left Hand Path of proper ledge shuffling, where the ledges are very ledgey and the shuffling is very shuffley and the best form of strength is weakness. A path of personal inspiration and genuine pleasure, a path that is absolutely "true to self"...
But a path that leads inexorably to a dead end. One day, I wake up and realise that I've done most of the ledge shuffles I've wanted to do, and those that are left are bloody hard for me and I need to be fitter and stronger. And I've been wasting my time avoiding getting fitter and stronger by farting around having fun and enjoying exploration. Now I'm getting older, heavier, weaker, less fit and more injured - and I'm too late. I'm too old, too heavy, too weak, too unfit and too injured to get enough back.
Meanwhile around me, to add insult to whatever injury is inhibiting me this particular week, I am part of a dying breed of ledge shufflers. Not the last (as people will immediately jump to correct me, before hopefully realising that I'm entirely correct and proper ledge shuffling is now vastly overshadowed by indoor blob-jumping and instagram green-ticking), but one of them. I've plied my trade with good honest traditional weakness, and now I'm getting weaker, surrounded by a climbing scene that is getting stronger, as the focus on athletic performance grows exponentially. Of course, comparing oneself to others is almost as naff as grade chasing, but the general feeling is hard to avoid and pretty galling - as is my own personal mistake in not taking the opportunities to focus on performance when I was still able to.
So, kids, the motto is: Don't learn your craft. Don't get experience on rock. Don't focus on technique and skill. Don't do laps of Stanage highball slabs. You can pick all that crap up when you're old, injured, decrepit, out of training action. Be a Goal Climber, not a Soul Climber - the soul doesn't age and rot until long after the body does. Get on the wall, the board, the campus rungs, the beastmaker. Get strong now, put the effort in now, focus on those gainz now that will last you a long time, before it's too late, before the body can't cope with it any more.
God knows what I'm going to do about it. I keep trying. The body keeps breaking. The mind too. I do see older people who do quite well in maintaining (not necessarily gaining) physical prowess. They inevitably have a proper history in training (or past performance), or enough venous return to keep lean enough for climbing, or enough self-discipline to do the most boring regimes, or all three. So far my best alternative seems to be bury my head in the sand and keep dreaming of a day where something magically changes and I miraculously gain some physical prowess to take back into the remaining ledge shuffles and esoteric explorations. Oh, and, not giving up yet. I'm not even sure why, against all sense and reason, but still not giving up yet.
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