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

Hello, Seattle

**All pictures in this blog are taken with my iphone.

Lets start in Seattle. Depending on how long this goes, I may break it in to two posts.

So, I went to Seattle just to resolve some wanderlust. I packed up a single, yet excrutiatingly heavy bag (not really… but minimalism was not in effect here.).

I hop on a train and begin reading. What am I reading you ask? The first of three books in The Hunger Games trilogy. I wanted to read it before the film comes out.

The train ride is smooth and calming. The sun is setting and I have the seats around me all to myself. In between pages, I am receiving texts from a new friend I’ve made. We seem to hold conversations like we’ve known each other forever, and not that it’s a well-guarded secret, I’m growing quite fond of her.

Seattle is dark and cold. I meet up with an old friend and we grab dinner at this restaurant that appears to be an old converted fire station.

Kyle picks me up. He confirms that navigation is not one of my super powers. We fill the air with banter and chat and my heart is light with the excitement of no work or responsibility.

But I’m tired. The long weeks and travel catch up with me far earlier that I except. Kyle says “if you’re too tired, I understand. We just don’t get to hang out all that often.” Guilt trip? Yes. I grab my first silver bullet.

We can’t be loud and noisy like he and I tend to be. So we grab Jenga and Uno and find a bar. It’s 11pm and I’m wired. We play, I lose the first game, but destroy at Uno.

And then we move on. There’s a taco place across the street. I’m not sure how Kyle stays so little when he eats as much as I do. It’s weird. And I hope he reads this.

We walk around downtown Seattle. It’s now 1am. We want pizza. No dice. We make a semi-split second decision to sprint back to the car. I have this on camera somewhere…

We find a pizza place right next to where we parked. It’s warm inside and they serve Kalamada Olives. It takes me back to Oz, where I used to get Pizza Capers all the time.

*Pause: I meant to write this sooner. Closer to when it happened. But now I’m trying to recount the events in some heinous stream of consciousness. This is for my benefit right now.

We head home. I pass out. I sleep until 3pm. I also crawl back into bed (couch) and stay there until 6pm.

This is not from alcohol. This is just a need to sleep. Kyle picks me up and we grab dinner. I swear it was not a date… although he paid again.

We went to this awesome Mexican restaurant and I thought I’d try out my newly acquired Spanish skills with the waiter. Big mistake. He insisted on using Spanish the rest of the time. Silly Gringo, you have much to learn… Good thing my teacher is much more patient.

Stuffed, we head to Vertical World. Their grand opening isn’t until the following night but we get in and climb. Have I mentioned that I have no aerobic endurance? I am decimated trying to keep up with Kyle and Darrell. I thought they were my friends… why would they do this to me? I take my first legitimate fall. Lets pretend it was like… 30’. It was probably only 15-20’. But I was certain that was it. I was dead. (Darrell, who has decked outside and broken his back laughed and informed me that the fall wouldn’t have killed me. Just broken my legs. Thanks Darrell.).

But I wasn’t. And suddenly being riskier (relatively speaking… I’m not saying “Go forth! Do something stupid.”) didn’t seem so bad. Pumped and blown out, Kyle drops me off at Bryan’s apartment… I swear I couch surfed and bummed my way through this entire trip.

Bryan and I stay up talking, watching YouTube and hanging out. I pass out, again from exhaustion. Wake up. Shower. Say goodbye. Hike to UW’s Dempsey Stadium where my old track team is competing.

I walk in. the ambient and familiar hum, drums me into complacency. I arrive at the pole vault pit. Sneak up on my friends and greet them with hugs and handshakes. Some faces are missing, but Attrition is a fact in this sport.

It’s not long before a starter gun goes off. My blood boils. People are vaulting. My breath is rapid. I hear the familiar creak as fiberglass strikes a plant box and bends. I feel like a recovering addict seeing my cocktail of choice for the first time in what feels like an eternity. I lived for this. This high. I loved it and I despised it. But I couldn’t stop the need.

I say my goodbyes, and head to the door. It’s raining outside. The rain makes me feel calm and I relax. I climb in a car and drive away.

The remainder of the day (3pm-930pm) consisted of bouldering at the Seattle Bouldering Project, and climbing during the Vertical World Grand Opening. I’m not going to go into too much detail as to how dangerous it was to climb with that many people not paying attention to their environment. Now, I was confident that my friends would catch me if I fell. But I couldn’t control the other climbers who frequently and carelessly walked underneath a climber, or crossed lines.

We left. Obtained more pizza. Played a game called headbands. I did really well at it. I’m basically Sherlock Holmes. ;) Anyways, you have a card with a who, what or where on it. You have 20 questions to guess what it is.

(I find this image especially unnerving... can't figure out why. haha)

Then there was catch phrase. Also awesome. BTW, I got a slight black eye from walking into a metal pipe sticking out of a Thai truck. It hurt. In fact, a week later, it’s still pretty tender. Even though the discoloring is gone.

We eventually go to sleep. I’m taken to the train in the morning. I enjoy the snow. I spend the quiet ride back finishing The Hunger Games. I get home. Shower. Sleep.

Auto Belays, Packing for Seattle

I had this down… I was ready to write this a couple hours ago. But I wasn’t home yet! I was still running errands. So lets see if I can’t wing it.

I work at the Source Climbing Center in Vancouver Washington. You guys remember that right? I know I haven’t been yakkin’ it up on here as often as I usually do. But yeah, they haven’t fired me yet (fingers crossed! Haha) and I love that job.

Recently though, we got these really cool auto-belays hanging from the walls. If you’re unfamiliar with what an auto-belay is, it’s a thing… that… well it replaces your belay partner. That guy, who stands on the ground and has a rope and keeps you safe. Pretty ingenious device if you ask me.

However, though they’ve been up for a month now… I have yet to use them. Why’s that? I have a fear of heights. Yep. There I said it. I’m a climber/pole vaulter who’s afraid of heights.

Climbing was actually meant to be a way for me to get over that fear. I noticed early on that some of my climbing ability was hindered by these irrational pangs of anxiety that flooded my system. It’s taken a year to get confident enough in the rope, in a partner, in myself to climb up 30+’ without sheer terror stepping in.

For example I turn to this popular commercial… (sorry there’s apparently no HQ version of this…)

Anyways. I was THAT guy.

So, I say to myself. I’m going to do this. I got this. It’s just climbing… with a mild plunge when you let go as the system catches you and begins lowering slowly. I have a friend texting me moral support. My boss says to me “oh yeah, it gets a little weird after 14’ don't panic... that's normal.” Such a joker, that guy… cuz I’m a boulderer… I supposedly don’t know what to do.

I’ll start on this 5.9 no biggie. The holds and everything won’t be an issue, I can just get up the wall and check out the system. Except it’s so easy, I have all this time to think about “what if it doesn’t catch me… and I die.” Or “what if does catch me, but not enough… and I break my legs?” my climbing goes down the toilet. I’m now feeling those panicky feelings again.

Still climbing below my aenorobic threshold. I get to the top. Sloppy send. I hang. “Just let go.” “No. I can hang here all day.” It’s a lie. My sharp shallow breaths are strangling me. I’ll choke and pump out in 45 seconds… 60 if I’m lucky. I look down. A couple people are staring at me. Yes… I do work here, leave me alone. I’m just doing my thing.

I come up with the brilliant strategy of lower down a few holds, the device will know I’m descending and catch me… I can skip that dangerous 3’ drop. Nope… silly James, it’s still waiting to catch you. Ok fine. I let go and plummet “OH NO! Oh crap! Oh wait… we’re good…” the whirring is there. I’m white knuckled and gripping the nylon cable that’s lowering me gently to the ground. You panicked over this? Do it again. But on a harder route.

I did a 5.10 and was fine until I hit the top and then again found myself saying “nope… can’t make me.” from somewhere down below “you have to let go. Lose control!” that is horrible advice! Oops, I slipped. Down I go… safe and sound. All in one piece.

Physically I’m fine, but mentally I’m incredibly rattled. I am not a fan of this device… but you know what that means? Uno mas! …Fine… the last route on the auto belay is a 5.10+ I begin to chug up it. Making myself take deep breaths to stave off that pump I didn’t finish recovering from. My body is quivering. Am I pumping out, or is it my nerves? I don’t know. Shut up and climb. I do. I get to the top. Hanging from the slightly over hung false rock I look down, all clear. Release. That thing caught me again.

But I swear I fall just long enough to think “maybe this it. Maybe it’s not going too…” and I land on the ground. I want so bad to be better at sport climbing. But until I can get over this crippling, nauseating fear… I’ll never reach my potential.

I spent the next few minutes looking at the veins popping out of my arms. Waiting for my stomach to release it’s knots. My hands are slightly stuck, I over gripped the entire route. Woops.

Just a heads up. I may start vlogging about my climbing. Just for giggles of course. :) we’ll see.

So, now I’m packing for Seattle. I’m taking the train. I’m hoping this will settle my wanderlust. I haven’t had the excuse to really practice minimalism on a trip yet. Not like I’d hoped… every time I had my car, I always seemed to need just one or five more things. But I’m taking the train. Something I love doing… and this is the perfect excuse to pack light. So light, I feel like my camera needs to stay home.

My goal, is one bag. Probably that goofy Olive Drab green one I got from a military surplus store. It’ll have plenty of space to carry stuff and it’s super comfy to wear for long periods of time. Which will be nice, since I’ll be spending some of this trip running around town.

Ok here’s my pack… there’s still a few things missing. Like my toiletries, and my clothes that are in the laundry… basically socks and pants. You know, the essentials.

So lets take a look at this picture…

We’ll start in the upper left and then I’ll move across the top.

Socks and underwear.

Camera bag and camera… I ditched some of the gear thinking I might just get away with bringing that and all my stuff inside it. I’m not thinking that’ll work.

My awesome hat. It’s awesome.

Arc’teryx s240 sport harness. Not likely I’ll get to use it… but it takes up so little room, and given the chance I want to use it. I really should leave this at home, the ATC is hiding underneath it.

My shoes. I’ll be wearing these. They won’t be packed.

My kindle. I love reading… this thing is a library without the bulk. It goes.

Melatonin… so I can sleep :) 1 or 2x3mg a night.

T-shirts. My pants would be next to them… they’re in the wash.

Prana chalk bag.

La Sportiva Pythons size 7.5… for my impish little feet.

My monstrous bag. This held nearly 75 lbs of clothes when I went to AUS. It’s a behemoth. I really think I could pack my camera bag inside this bag… but that would be redundant.

The white bag is actually an xbox 360, with cables and games. It’s not mine… my friend Bryan left it in Vancouver and asked me to pack it and bring it with me. if it weren’t for this, I could totally use a little back pack to take everything with me. Yeah, Bryan, Guilt trip laid.

A xbox 360 controller… because I’m going to probably at some point play games. Haha it’s also because house rules dictate guests get the crappy controller.

And lastly… 2 silver bullets (for staving off weariness and werewolves.) mountain dew (never know… Seattle could have a shortage) and power bars. Why did I buy so many?! If you can’t tell… there’s 8 there.

Seriously? Did you really just read a list of the things I’m packing and taking with me on this trip? Weirdo… haha but seriously… that’s kind of weird. Good thing I didn’t pack anything I should be embarrassed about.

This trip is serving as my winter break. I worked 70 hours a week between my three jobs for almost 2 months straight (I missed a few days from illness) and so I wanted to get out of town and just see some friends I don’t normally see. This weekend will be extra awesome because the University of Washington is hosting a track meet at the indoor Dempsey Stadium and many familiar faces will be competing. And shortly after that, ABS divisional championships will be held at the Seattle Bouldering Project.

It’s going to be a very fast paced and restless weekend. But I don’t think I’d have it any other way. ;)

Expect some blogging/vlogging along the way.

James

P.S. Check out my friend Kyle’s blog and show him some support. If you’re familiar with the Ninjas Doing Mundane Things, he’s the other ninja and also the guy that got me climbing… he’s one of the people I’ll be spending the weekend with.

Take care guys and I want you to know that I’ve been rocking the soundtrack for the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time while writing this.

Nike Commercial

You got excited when you read that didn’t you? I know I did. When the email arrived telling me I had an audition for a Nike Commercial… HOLY SWEETNESS! Is this it?! Wait… Football? It’s a football commercial? I don’t know anything about football…

In fact, my friends often make fun of me when it comes to football, basketball, baseball… pretty much the American big name sports. They relate me to J.D. from that Sitcom Scrubs… and I quote “I like it when they do well at the game that they play.” That’s J.D. and that’s what my friends think of my sports knowledge.

And it’s not far off. I can throw a football, shoot hoops (though apparently that’s not what kids call it these days), and hit a baseball. But I don’t really know the rules. It wasn’t important to me when I was little. So how did I end up here? In a freezing indoor turf field with these super fancy cleats on my feet?

I have an agent. You know… for trying to be famous and stuff… she gets me auditions and I show up. Typically I don’t know anything about them when I arrive. I just go with minimal instructions as to how to prepare.

Also, just a heads up in case you don’t know… I’m 5’11” and weigh about 167 lbs. This easily made me not only the shortest person at the audition, but also the lightest by about 40 or 50 lbs. yep… kind of a trip.

3 minutes to warm up. Are you fucking kidding me?! I see the guy before me try to tear down the field in tennis shoes. He cuts right, left, spins, turns 180 degrees, sprints back and dives. It’s slow and it’s sloppy. He does it one more time. All in all, with everything he did, probably 3 minutes on the turf.

I’m up. Barely warm enough to register on a thermometer. This is going to be rough… but I don’t like slow. It leaves a bad taste in my pride. I say my name for the camera. Who represents me. What’s my Football experience. Oh that? None. I did run track in college. Neat. He hands me a football… shit, am I holding this right? No idea, doesn’t matter.

They want some model shots of the nifty cleats on my feet. I pose. My little tiny calves not quite the monsters they once were… 20 lbs ago. What they appeared to be after 9 straight months of hell, grooming them to be nothing but raw torque and finness.

My legs were the sacrifice I made for climbing. My freakishly fast, super bouncy tree trunks were nothing but dead weight on my finger tips and if I had to lose weight… why not give it up in the muscles I wasn’t using? When I finished track, I promised myself I wouldn’t run anymore if I didn’t find a way to enjoy it. I still have not found a way to fall in love with running again. So I don’t. The legs are gone.

I’m on the line, poised. No feelings of anxiety, or pressure to perform. Just do it. Don’t hold back. Vroom. The man with the camera says “go” and I take off. The cleats are light. Bouncy. I pop from step to step. I don’t feel balanced like I should. Like my spikes would let me feel.

First cut to the right. Dime edge turn. What the hell just happened? I just… I uh… I’m still going. Hardly any speed is lost. Second turn. Step, pop, my feet are moving and my body is at a loss for these shoes. What am I doing? Spin, boom, done. No clue how it looked on camera, but I think I just invented a ballet move. Forward to the cone, turn 180 and sprint back to the start… and ready to drop hips? NO! I’m already through. My weight didn’t shift, I just ripped my whole body away. My legs are leaving the rest of me behind. How is this happening? In flats, I’d sink in, brace for it, my quads/glutes/hams would all fire and explode to propel me in the new direction… but I didn’t. I just went…

I’m on the home stretch. Hold together. Dive across the pads. Easy. I fly through the air, careen over the pad and slam into the wall. Sweet.

Simon (that dude with the camera?) yells at me “Run down, grab the ball, lets do it again.” I hop up, quickly jog down… wait. Lungs are ok. Heart rate is fine… why am I choking? Man… I forgot breakfast didn’t I? And that Mountain Dew isn’t helping things either. Congratulations, you just bought yourself an afternoon of butt lock and lactic acid overload.

The second one, I managed to hold it together. I was more prepared for the shoes to do their magic. I reacted better. Got tighter on the cones and felt I improved… until the final stretch. The mad dash home. That sickening feeling in my throat gurgles up. The cold air in my lungs is burning. A very strong dwarf grabs both of my butt cheeks and crushes them in his hands. That dwarf is lactic acid. That dwarf is butt lock. I don’t dive across the finish onto the pad so much as I just eat shit and slide face first across the line.

They say thank you. I give them their pretty shoes back and I thank them for their time. I grab my stuff. I head to the car… and then curl up in a ball next to it… waiting to vomit. It’s pooling inside me. my head is light. Stand up, you shit. Are you this weak? Is this who you are? I didn’t peg you for someone who lays down and waits for the shaking to stop. I stand up. Don’t let your knees lock. The lights dim… oh here we go… don’t you black out. I squat to the ground. Focus on your breathing. At least do that for yourself.

I remember you. The demon inside me. I hate you. I hate who I become when you get involved. I’ve found peace since you went to sleep. I don’t need you now. I don’t want you.

I miss my legs. I miss being the monster. But I don’t miss everything that went with it. The price I paid in lost time with my family. How I spoke to myself. How I treated myself. How I treated those that cared about me. 3 minutes on a field and that little bastards back. He’s here to remind me I’ll never be good enough. I’ll never be enough.

He taught me many things. How to ignore pain. How to find my limits. But through him, I never did anything for love. I never did it because I LOVED what I was doing. I did it because I had to. I had to know… know what? I still don’t know.

Are you confused yet? This took a weird and unexpected turn didn’t it… welcome to my world. The confusion. The lack of answers. The demon taught me many things but left me spinning my wheels.

I don’t miss him. I enjoy the calm I find without him. I’ve learned just how far I can go without him, and much stronger I am for it.

Besides… football is a stupid sport anyways. :p

One year of climbing

It’s been a year. Well… not quite. Still have a couple days before I’m officially able to measure my time in more than just months. I’ve learned so much, but yet I’m still a little kid. I have a double tomorrow… so I really should be sleeping. I’ll make this brief.

I shot these clips to get my friend Kyle amped for next week. I head up to Seattle to hang out (and climb, of course.) and I wanted to share these with him. I’m excited. He should be too. The end. Haha

But as I watched these and prepped to put them online, I thought back to my goals for last year. It’s not often I fail when I set goals. They may be aggressive, but they’re generally realistic. My average for success was high. …Until climbing.

I wanted a v7 by the end of September, 2011. It didn’t happen. I got my first v7 on October 3^rd. I won’t rehash it, but you can find it on this page. Sorry the link’s on that page might be broken. I made a hasty decision and pulled my climbing videos.

I had planned to have my first v8 by the end of my first year. But in the last couple months I really had to take an honest look at my climbing. My sloppy footwork. My inability to read a route. My reliance on beta and finding something that was exactly “my style.” And that wasn’t the climber I wanted to be.

I took a good long look at that goal and asked myself if I could handle postponing it with the hope that I would build a better foundation for my climbing. The answer was eventually yes. I stepped back. Looked at my flaws and really tried to tackle them head on.

Over the next few months I really noticed a change. My breathing was more controlled, my balance was getting better. There was power in each foot placement. My onsight ability jumped from v5 to v6. V7’s we’re looking much less devastating. Granted… this is all relative.

So as I checked out these videos, I was proud of the progress I’ve made. The 2 v7’s I climbed tonight weren’t my style. Both extremely balance-y and much more technical than most would consider my preference… they just felt smooth and controlled.

So I’ve been climbing a year. I didn’t achieve every goal. But I’m satisfied in knowing this was a good decision. And I’ll benefit from it in the rest of my climbing life.

Thanks for sticking it out with me. :)

James

The stats:

2011- January

195 lbs (~88kg)

2012- January

168 lbs (~76kg)

Sick as a Dog.

I never really understood that statement. Are dogs always sick, or is it supposed to be really awful for a dog to be sick when they are actually sick. I’m not sure. But I’ve been sick. And not just in the “oh crap. Exhaustion got me. I need to sleep for a day and let my body reboot.”

No, this was something else. The only time I can remember being more sick than this was once, back in high school, and also when I had that damned swine flu a couple years ago. This was bed ridden, run over by a mile long train “Please, Lord take me now” kind of sick.

I know why it hit me so hard. Long hours at work, climbing way more than I should and well passed what would be considered smart climbing. And it didn’t help that my entire family had come down with the black plague. Basically, all this and no matter of healthy eating and exercise was going to make up for everything else I was depriving myself of (let me spell it out for you: REST.).

So, now, two weeks later I went to the gym for the first time in an attempt to move on some rock. I had tried to go after the first week… and really I just sat there and twiddled my thumbs, and helped coach a friend who’s trying to get into climbing. This trip, I’m just fighting off the last bit of the nagging cough (BTW, I’m good for ab workouts for the next couple months… six pack? Done. Thank you, hacking/debilitating cough.). Energy is still at critically low levels.

I enjoy a good dyno as much as the next guy. I think I’m a pretty dynamic climber. I often have to tone down my desire to do big moves just to make sure I’m training statically and improving my foot technique and such… but when it came time to DTFO (Dyno the F* Out.)**, I was severely grounded.

Now I hear what you’re thinking… No, not because I’m psychic, but because you’re probably a smart person, or at least someone with some level of common sense. But you’re saying to me “James! You’re obviously not ready to be going back. What’re you doing? You run the risk of potentially making it worse. Or relapsing.” Yeah? Close?

I coach Pole Vault at the local community college and one of the local high schools. And if one of my athletes did this… I’d be pissed. But I no longer have a coach. I only have myself to answer too, and myself to blame.

I will admit I backed off though. I geared up to see how I was doing, and I did all right. Then I warmed down and called it a night.

Things I did notice: long rests in order to recover from a burn. Even on climbs well below my average level, I was still needing a long rest. The biggest parts I struggled with were core tension (sore muscles in my mid region… don’t know why. lol) and my grip strength was fatiguing quickly.

But I couldn’t handle being inside anymore. Or at work. I needed to move. I needed my drug. This is where I felt like a dog. Trapped inside and anxiously waiting to get outside and run around. Climbing destresses me. it clears my head, and for two weeks I was without my wonder drug. I was getting volatile, restless and more or less neurotic. The line between my fever and cabin fever was blurring.

Even if it wasn’t a mind blowing night, or a training night. Booting up was much needed. It’s raining outside. It’s cold. I needed this. If anything, I feel healthier just from having gone and shaking out my restless bones.

So here’s to health, happiness and holidays. I’ll let my body recoup some more, probably until the first of the year. I’ll keep time at the gym (guys… that’s all I’ve got. No outdoors until next spring.) to minimum. I’ll eat whatever I want, and ignoring my normally more restrictive diets. And just focus on getting healthy.

It just occurred to me that this is the longest I’ve gone without climbing since I started really attempting to improve almost a year ago (apparently that’s January 6^th). As much as I hate to admit it, this hiatus is a blessing. My desire to climb and move are constantly growing and keeping myself in check is often times difficult. My body needed this. Next time though, hopefully I’ll just take some time off instead of crashing like this.

Happy new years guys. :)

James

**DTFO was a saying we made up a while ago. I’m not sure if it’s ever been used before so forgive me if that’s been your friend’s “thing” for the last… however long. It wasn’t my intention to steal it. I’ll try to write up a blog sometime soon about how that came about how that became a sort of faux-mantra for us. If you have used it before, or heard it used please leave a comment and share your story.