Guru Says

It’s been about a month since I tweaked my hand. A month and some change since I had real serious passion to move on plastic (almost said rock… ha! Still not getting outside...) and at least that much time since I’ve had anything to write about.

Did I even mention I hurt my hand? I was on a fun little dynamic problem. My middle and ring finger were in a pocket. As I reached for the next hold, my feet cut from the wall. My weight came down and popped my fingers out of the hole they were stuck in. I tried to hang on for just a split second, but it was too much.

It didn’t hurt. I should feel it. The next week passes. Nothing. No stiffness, no pain. I assume a few days rest got me through it. I can still climb near my peak. But over the next couple weeks, my performance suffers.

“I must be tired” I say. I sleep more, climb less. But when I do climb, I’m struggling. 2, 3, 5 grades below my project level. I’m struggling. Still no pain.

I climbed on Monday. If it wasn’t a jug, it wasn’t doable.

The next day, I’m sore. It’s not just weakness in my hand, but it has spread down into my forearm and I have a hard time making a firm fist. I tell Hans the symptoms, already knowing what his answer will be, “Sounds like your pulleys. Rest. Come back. Get stronger. Accidents happen to everyone who climbs long enough.”

Guru! Shaman! Perform a miracle! Some voodoo. Make it work, please? No right hand doesn’t just stop me from climbing, it means no Pole Vault either. My right hand is my top hand, without it, I can’t hang on when I’m upside down in the air.

Those fancy books I read all have a section that says the same sentence; “you need a break every so often so your body can heal, adapt and you can rekindle your passion.” Fine. So be it. Climbing God’s, you win this round.

But I don’t have to like it. And Suddenly, the “wants” begin. Because I can’t "do", my brain kicks around ideas of what I will do when I can again. I want new shoes, Evolv Shamans. I want a crash pad, Madrock R3 (Because I AM going to climb outside this year, Dammit! And because I have a coupon.). I want t-shirts with logos only climbers will recognize (oh yeah, elitist status, here I come.).

But what I want most of all, is that moment of peace. When my whole body feels as if it’s working in unison to create a symphony of movement. My body becomes not only the brush, but also the canvas.

It wouldn’t be so bad if climbing didn’t surround me. Adds, Videos, Magazines… and I work at a gym (“Did you see that sick new 8?!” “Yeah… I did…” wah-wah). I’ve lost most of my stamina. I’m going to give it a month before I give it a light test run again.

For the next 30 days, my fight will be patience. Wish me Luck.

James Race Carr

Oi Vay!

I’m going to try to write this quick and without getting worked up.

Again, another break from climbing. Wasn’t the holiday craziness supposed to end and leave me with an abundance of time and energy to pursue my passions?

I’m still working 3 jobs; Best Buy, the climbing gym and coaching. Also I’ve hit the ground running, working to get at least one paid gig a month for photography of videography (that’s what I went to school for.).

So, it’s a struggle to get to the gym with any enthusiasm. I am working out with the Pole Vaulters I coach. But that’s not climbing. In fact, it’s not the kind of training I should be doing at all. Same muscles (even my hands to some degree) but wrong style of training.

Plus, I tweaked my hand. I have an ever present addiction to caffeine and continue to deprive myself of sleep. Please don’t think I’m complaining, I love what I do. That has to be the reason I’ve made it this long.

So I drag myself to the gym. Not “Hopped in the car, played loud music, got jacked, and tore the place to pieces.” No, it was a quiet ride. Mentally drained before even setting my stuff down to boot up, I say to myself, “Get your headphones on, drift away. Do some laps. You’ll wake up.” But I didn’t. I was frequently stopped by friends, all wanting to know where I had been the past few weeks. I just hope they took the look on my face for exhaustion and not exasperation.

I warm up. There is no pain in my hand, it’s just weak. It never did hurt. I swear nothing ever “hurts.” It just stops working. It takes a lot of effort not to get frustrated. Not to see the numbers clearly labeling the problems. I’m getting shut down by THAT?! I keep lowering the difficulty until finally I can fumble through it.

My feet are sloppy, heavy, uncoordinated. My mind is foggy, distant, and scattered. I begin to traverse, be productive… “I’m pumped?! I… I don’t understand.” I drop my boots and lay my back on the cold concrete. I was ready to call it a day. Pack up and retreat.

A friend, someone who has shown incredible improvement in such a short time climbing, drags me over to a new unlabeled wall and pesters me into playing on these routes until the old me starts to surface.

But just like that, the nights over. The lights are turning off and it’s time to go. “But I’m here now. Finally, I’m awake! My body and I are working together again.”

I spent the ride home thinking of fire analogies. “The embers were dimming and blah blah blah…” Fortunately, I didn’t write them. They were terrible.

I can’t fix my hand overnight. The only thing to do is be smart and get healthy. Pushing it too hard, too soon only risks making it worse and at best, staves off healing.

The next month will be a good chance to play, reacquaint myself with the wall. Hell, improve footwork (Lord knows I need it.)

Anyways, thank you for listening. I’ll keep you posted. And also, Thank you for the great comments on my last post. The response to the video was really positive and I’ve already talked to a few climbers that are looking to do a video once the weather is a bit nicer.

James Race Carr