On top of my game…

Warning: Egocentric rambling ahead (well, this IS a blog…)

I had a realisation the other day:

I have now been fighting fit and climbing well continuously for the last 2 years.

That, I think, is quite thought-provoking. I looked in my logbook and saw that it was early February 2006 that I started properly getting back into grit climbing after many months off with a broken foot. Later in the month I had a decent trip to Barcelona….then some increasingly good days on grit….then a good trip to Pembroke with The King….then “that” weekend in North Wales where my climbing dreams started coming true. Since the start of 2006 I’ve had some low points, periods of bad motivation, periods of atrocious weather, times out due to minor injuries - but they’ve all been pauses in the flow of climbing, rather than stops. Even last year, being hampered in spring by a shoulder injury and in summer by the monsoons, as soon as the shoulder healed and the weather cleared, I got out, got fit, and climbed well.

It’s generally regarded, particularly in a highly intensive (physically and mentally) activity such as climbing, that maintaining a high level of performance over a long period of time is unlikely to happen (the mind and body need respite). I’m making no great claims about my performance, only that it is good FOR ME. But the point is, it’s still good now…

(Even recently, I’ve felt my strongest indoors on bouldering and routes, I’ve onsighted my hardest sport climbs outdoors, climbed my hardest boulder problem, and recently climbed my first grit trad routes since November - it took a few goes to get back into it, and I didn’t push myself that much, but I managed to climb with confidence on some routes and tackle fine challenges on others, and kept learning more throughout - not bad!!)

…even 2 years on. If this isn’t “supposed to happen”, then maybe there are explanations.

Firstly, the enforced mini-breaks I’ve taken might have let mind and body recover for a renewed assault. This need for respite is something I’ve become aware of, and thus I make sure I don’t push things at inappropriate times and thus get jaded or too wrapped up in climbing.

But, secondly, more interestingly, maybe this isn’t some straining, pushing, performance peak. Maybe this is my NATURAL level. A level that suits my climbing, my abilities, my desire. And to be honest, that’s what it felt like, that’s why I was striving to climb how I climb now - because I felt I could, I felt it was the right level for me to reach and be inspired by. And sure, it was a long, bloody battle to get there, but what I felt in 2006 was more like “I am climbing as my true self” rather than “I am on top of my game”.

Less of a “peaking”, and more of a “maturing”?

What happens from here, I don’t know. I’m quite happy not knowing. I’m still as psyched, yet less pressured. Maybe I will climb harder or climb better (not the same thing, of course!!). Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll improve more in different areas, maybe I won’t. Maybe something with go cataclysmically wrong and I will climb very little. Maybe I’ll improve a lot by devious, circuitous methods. Maybe I’ll just plod along doing the climbing I enjoy.

Right at the moment, I have a bit of a tweak in my elbow. I’m being careful - it’s not too bad and doesn’t seem to affect climbing too much - but I’ve been taking it easy, sticking to outdoor routes where possible and avoiding the physical strains of indoor bouldering. So not, right now, 100% fighting fit, BUT it’s okay, and I’ll get past it, and just see where things go…

A blog challenge!

From JIMBO’s blog (link on Rockfax blog page):

I have been continuing on my regime to return as a fully functioning climber, back at the grades that I was once achieving some years ago. I have been reading around and from sources such as Training for Climbing and from my own profession it is clear that target setting is the first stage to realising your goals. However, to coin a teaching term (possibly borrowed from American corporate bullsh*t) they need to be SMART. Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic and Time-bound. For example; I will do 1 one-armed pull up by Easter with my left and right arms. This hits all the criteria for me from this model, being specific in the exercise that I will perform (could be a route or a grade), measurable in that I must do 1 on each arm, it is attainable as I have done them before, realistic in that I am not far off it now and the time frame is long enough to achieve it and time bound in that I must do it by Easter. Having looked at Fiend’s blog it is clear that some of his targets fall short in one or more of these ideas and may lead to many left unfulfilled.

Would I be right in guessing this is Jimbo Kimber, beefy Portland guru from a few years back??

I’m somewhat entertained that a serious climber read my blog and thought enough to mention it (although a comment on my blog would have been useful). He may or may not have a point about my goals - although I do think my goals are in a different genre to some peoples - and since I quite like an online climbing discussion challenge, I’ll try to justify my goals in that context:

1. Climb the remaining routes E2-4 in the Lleyn section of North Wales Rock.
5. Climb at a few of the inspiring places that I didn’t manage to visit in 2007, specifically: Baggy Point, Nesscliffe, mid-Wales, Pembroke, and a bit of grit.

These two are more specific goals and do fit into the SMART criteria
S - Yes, specific places and specific routes (I have lists, but little desire to post them here).
M - Yes, whether I visit those places and do those routes.
A - Yes, subject to weather and partners.
R - Yes, all of the are accessible and routes are realistic targets.
T - Yes, have made them goals for this year in particular (although Lleyn would be up to the next bird ban). I can’t have specific deadlines set because it depends on: weather, opportunity, people to climb with, bird bans, and other factors.

2. Go on a climbing holiday to Scandinavian granite and/or German/Czech sandstone.
6. Climb more in Scotland.
7. Go on a climbing trip to Ireland if weather allows.

These three are all general destinations are the SMART criteria is not applicable to them. As above they are subject to weather, opportunity, etc etc, but more specifically to having the right people to go with. I will try to find the right people to go with, and to be able to go at the right times, but these trips are too external-factor-dependent to be more “SMART”.

3. Join with more climbing and bouldering trips abroad.
4. Climb more with my friends, old and new, and join in their climbing plans.

These two are climbing….scene? I guess….desires, and again the SMART criteria is not applicable to them. They simply depend on what other people are doing when, who is available, who wants me along. I’ve spent a couple of years being focused on my own specific desires, to good effect, now I am happier to join in with other peoples’ plans, in the knowledge that there’s bound to be something I’ll want to climb and enjoy doing.

8. Push myself more in bouldering and deep water soloing in different venues.

This one, perhaps is a bone of contention - it is performance / challenge / progression desire, and as such could be considered SMART suitable. But…
S - not really, no particular problems, no particular routes, nor locations.
M - not really (although a vague hint to boulder the next grade up).
A - yes definitely. I’m sure I can climb a bit harder.
R - yes definitely, ditto.
T - this year??

Maybe this should be SMART?? Maybe I should be saying: Boulder V-whatever on grit by April and onsight 3 E-whatevers at Portland between July and October.

The thing is, it boils down to my initial impression: I have a different genre of goals. Although a few are specific routes and specific challenges, most of them are exploratory venue-based goals: Get away with some mates to somewhere new and find inspiring stuff to do there (these might well be unfulfilled but that’s the nature of climbing trips!!). And the progression goals?? Well, I’ve spent the last decade focusing on progression and the last two years succeeding in it. I’ll always want to progress but at the moment I’m happy to do so in a “see how it goes” way. The point of that is not about being vague, it’s about being relaxed and being confident in my groundwork of climbing that I can tackle what challenges I feel like without having to be quite so obsessed over Specific (etc etc) details. And - it’s worth noting - I still train for general challenges, I still push myself in what’s relevant, work what I need to and work my weaknesses, but again I do that in a “looser” way. It doesn’t mean I’m pulling any less hard though!!

Finally…

Last weekend I did my hardest graded boulder problem ever. I hadn’t had it as a specific goal, I hadn’t used it as a measurement, I didn’t know for sure if it was attainable or realistic, and I set no time-limits on it. I’d just seen the line a couple of years ago, it inspired me, I thought I might be able to do it, and I did (it was piss, took a few goes and I could have possibly flashed it if I’d used the best starting hand-hold). Was a great problem BTW.

Things to do...

...that I'd actually like to do, with people, instead of climbing.

Outdoor active

Skiing -

Running -

Exploring & dicking around in the countryside -

Hillwalking -

Scuba-diving -

Paintball -

Alton Towers -

Indoor (semi)active

Dry-slope / indoor skiing -

Swimming / saunaing -

Ice-skating -

Clubbing -

Playing pool -

Bowling -

Indoor chilled

Board games -

Card games -

Eating out -

Eating in -

Watching DVDs -

Cinema -

Art galleries -

2008.

Another number ;)

Climbing goals for 2008.

1. Climb the remaining routes E2-4 in the Lleyn section of North Wales Rock.

2. Go on a climbing holiday to Scandinavian granite and/or German/Czech sandstone.

3. Join with more climbing and bouldering trips abroad.

4. Climb more with my friends, old and new, and join in their climbing plans.

5. Climb at a few of the inspiring places that I didn’t manage to visit in 2007, specifically: Baggy Point, Nesscliffe, mid-Wales, Pembroke, and a bit of grit.

6. Climb more in Scotland.

7. Go on a climbing trip to Ireland if weather allows.

8. Push myself more in bouldering and deep water soloing in different venues.

Now….if anyone wants to join in with any of these, or has any trips they want to invite me along to….get in touch….I’m keen to be involved with a more diverse agenda this year

So, the way things have gone: 2006 and 2007, overall, were great climbing years for me. I finally - after a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of ups and downs - felt like I was climbing how I wanted to, and a level I had always thought I was capable of, doing the sort of routes and climbing that deeply inspired me (mostly, as it happens, trad climbing).

I had this vague notion that if I did enough, that if I really felt I’d done what was true to me and the dedication had paid off, that I’d be more relaxed about my climbing, more willing to firstly not be quite as obssessed with it, and secondly to be less specific and go along with “whatever” climbing was around rather than purely my specific plans.

So far, somewhat surprisingly, I DO feel like that - still inspired, still keen, but also more relaxed, and less pressured. I don’t know if it will last but it’s a good way to be now.

Thus, my 2008 goals - mostly about travelling around, exploring, different styles of climbing, and joining in with what other people are doing (only the few UK ones are really specific, although Scandinavia and Germany/Czech are also strong inspirations I’ve had for many years). Hopefully this will enable another good, but diverse climbing year. The sort of year where someone can say “Hey Fiend, fancy coming to Magic Wood for a long weekend” and I can reply “Sure, sounds cool” rather than “No. Must stay in England and prove to myself I can climb hard in The Lakes etc etc”. Or where I can invite friends to the honeypots of Pembroke instead of having to drag people to some esoteric uber-gem that the voices in my head told me I have to do.

It is, I think, all good…

Numbers...

I have an uneasy relationship with numbers - climbing grades that is.

On the one hand, I like them: Or rather, I like the meaning behind them. They are useful pieces of information that roughly quantify a level of challenge. They tell you roughly how hard a climb is going to be and enable you to make an informed choice on what you’re going to be climbing and how you’re going to approach it. I like having an accurate and fair grading system - particularly when it is reliable enough to positively encourage onsight climbing with the information it provides. Knowledge is power…

On the other hand, I dislike them: Or rather, I dislike the way they are used and abused by climbers and the climbing community. The grade-chasing, number-ticking, ego-boosting, cock-waving “I’ve done grade X, look at me” / “I really want to do grade X, getting that number will be so significant to me”. Okay a crude summary but the attitudes are out there for all to see. Focusing on a number as if it is important?? The number is meaningless….only the meaning is important! Myself, I’m human too (despite some opinions to the contrary), and I too find myself susceptible to this, a desire to measure my progress that occasionally flares up into a desire to attain and achieve…

Thus it was with a similar unease that I set myself a number-orientated goal for a recent trip to El Chorro: I wanted to onsight at least a few F7as (that number - of course - being of no public significance).

Would this be a case of the tail wagging the dog?? Chasing routes for the grade alone, it all seemed somewhat sordid. On the first day in El Chorro I was wandering aimlessly and aimlessly wondering about my motivations. There were reasons for this goal - in recent years I have progressed tangibly with my trad climbing, and also (when I can be bothered) with my bouldering. I am also keen on sport climbing, and also keen to progress in it, yet I found myself having plateaued at a vaguely constant level in the last few years. The plateau, I think, is from mostly a lack of trying and a lack of ambition. Thus, a more quantifiable ambition - onsight F7a more - could give me a focus.

(Also, I like F7a as a number, it is complete and neat. F6c+ is so messy…)

But still….for me the lines, the inspiration to climb them, should come first…

My wandering and wondering stopped when I reached one of the F7as I’d considered: Arabesque on Sector Escalera Arabe. It looked great (although the F6c to the left up a sinuous groove, looked even better). Thin, technical climbing up a blunt rib, good rock, good position, the occasional rest, obviously fingery cranking in places. I led it, just after sunset, and it was great, testing, intricate, and satisfying.

And onwards…

Un-named route, F7a, Las Encantadas - looked great, sheer, intimidating, sustained, a wild finish up a hanging blunt rib, supposedly the crux. Was great, lots of good climbing, steady rests and a brilliant “go-for-it” finish in the best position on the crag.

Poema De Roca, F7a, Poema De Roca - looked great, ridiculously steep, wild rock features, possible cunning rests but obviously a mega-pump. Was great, err….ridiculously steep, wild rock features, possible cunning rests but obviously a mega-pump.

Uretofilio, F7a, Desplomandia - looked great, a high quality bulging wall promising varied bouldery climbing between decent rests. Was great, a series of increasingly hard boulder problems with good rests but a sustained and thin finish right to the last move.

So there you go….the quality of the climbing, the pleasure of the experiences, the thrill of the challenge (a challenge which was just right for me at this time) - all justified the goal (which was really a goal of “slightly increased challenge and progression”) that led to them.

Cold cold cold….grit grit grit.

Bloody hell it is freezing out there. Literally. What a cold snap - it’s oscillated between -2′c min and 4′c max for the last several days. Now the clouds are more present it’s proper bitter.

And I rather like it. Hard frozen ground, ice instead of puddles, permanent frost, the searing chill in the air in every breath you take in. The subtle light whether it’s the pseudo-warm glow of the arcing sun of the almost monochrome deadness of the cloudy haze. Everything is crisp and crunchy….mmmm winter. The highlight for me has been out in some woodland, watching the veins of fog-melded frost on the tree branches, tinkling off with a gust of breeze and scattering the floor with crystalline shards…

The other thing of course is OMG HARD GRIT FRICTION CONDITIONS!!! etc etc

Actually it’s a bit of a strange one. There’s a lot of frost so some places are frozen up with that and/or have hideous top-outs. The bleakness has actually made it feel too cold in other places, especially exposed to the wind - sometimes it’s hideous trying to warm up.

BUT.

In the right places, once warmed up, it’s been proper good. I’ve even kept my t-shirt on! I’ve been out a couple of times bouldering in the last week, with no particular agenda other than feeling the grit - although once I’ve been out, feeling the winter has been just as important :).

I’ve been on Stanage slabs getting my footwork up to somewhere near “tolerable” (which was fun), at the Secret Garden very nearly doing the sloper traverse with little warming up (it felt great), at Gardoms doing a random one move wonder and spotting a friend lobbing off the top of the “snapball” Suavito (both good experiences), and briefly at Burbage North doing Life In A Radioactive Dustbin in a few goes with little warming up (something I’d never even looked at, but it felt good).

My current unusually chilled mode has meant I haven’t been motivated to go hard and push it with my own plans, I’ve just enjoyed hooking up with others, and randomly finding something inspiring that I hadn’t really considered before. Through all of this I have been feeling the grit. Which is nice. I’m getting into it and it feels good. The weather may not last but I’m ready to get back into it whenever, I think

Oh yeah…

…SYKED!!

A brilliant route.

From when this was on Rockfax...

Welcome Fiend. Been on any great trips recently? Had any good climbing experiences? Let us know by updating your blog using the links below.

Well it’s not recent, but it was a great climbing experience. And the rain is lashing down again so why not recount it to keep morale up….

Desolation Row E2 5b ** (note these stars must be a mis-print!) Great Zawn, Cornwall.

This wasn’t the hardest route I did all summer. It wasn’t the most rewarding, nor the most meaningful. It wasn’t a route I’d been dreaming about. It wasn’t a route that had immediately inspired me. It wasn’t something I’d really planned to do. It was just there, and so was I, and so was Doug, and so was The King later on.

It was, however, utterly brilliant.

We were all down, hanging out in Cornwall during the Indian Autumn. The Pylon King, The Pylon Queen (containing then, The Pylon Prince), Doug, myself. And of course Fairfax. I had a flying visit past Lower Sharpnose (you know, the amazing fin-like Culm sea-cliff that you walk past the RADAR DISHES and COW HERD to get to), doing routes that were for me, hard, meaningful, inspiring etc etc. So I was in chill-out mode which suited the lazy campsite vibe, basking, drinking tea, swearing, playing with the campsite slugs, watching Doug trying to beat the world pasty consumption record, and occasionally venturing out to get spanked on the Cornish granite.

So this was one of those spanking days. Doug and I had managed an alpine start sometime between brunch and afternoon tea, and were sort of milling around aimlessly for a suitable venue. I’m sure I was trying to persuade Doug we needed to go do something hard and committing with a high chance of failure and equally sure he was justifiably dragging his heels in his sly way. So we sort of ended up at The Great Zawn, Doug with aspirations towards Xanadu and myself following The King’s hunch that Desolation Row might be worthwhile.

It all looked a bit ominous from the top, which indeed is The Great Zawn sales pitch. We mused on the options and decided to abseil down for Doug to inspect Xanadu and for me to do Desolation Row to warm us both up (a curious concept given that the gearing up point was sun-baked and the zawn bed was icily clammy). Xanadu looked utterly imposing from above, and to our mutual relief, entirely sopping close up. Thus Desolation Row was the route, and I was on the lead.

What can be said about it??

I think “perfection” sums it up.

The perfection that comes from combining many great aspects with brilliant climbing, and ticking all the essential pleasure boxes, that although aspects could be improved, to do so would merely be an exercise in turning the amp up to 11, or the stars up to 4.

A long single pitch of 40m, rising from the depths of an other-worldly zawn into the afternoon sun above. A natural line of least resistance in a distinctive setting. An intricate traditional experience of boldness and thought-provoking yet reliable protection. A continuous slab of delightful delicate climbing and several mini-cruxes interspersed with good resting holds. A culmination of challenge with a committing and technical crux right at the last move.

That’s not an exaggerated sales pitch - that’s the experience I had.

(And one The King had because he cropped up and I encouraged him to lead it so I could sit belaying philosophically in the dank below.)

So there you have it, climbing at it’s best, Desolation Row, go climb it next summer.