MRI

I went for my shoulder MRI today. The doctor said unsympathetically ‘it’s going to hurt when I pierce the synovial membrane’. I contemplated running away. He wasn’t lying.


Lying there with the largest needle that I ever saw stuck in my arm, contemplating surgery, I couldn’t help but think ‘climbing got me here’. Wish that I could say it was worth it.

I get the results next Tuesday.

A way forward

In true ‘who killed Laura Palmer’ fashion, I still don’t know what is wrong with my shoulder. Due to scheduling mishaps and attempts at slaying the monster of a thesis, the issue slipped. I have another appointment for next week.

In the meantime, which is much longer than anticipated, I’m struggling with finding a way forward.

On account of my course, my entire life was put on hold this year. This wasn’t entirely a bad thing, but after staring into the bottom of way too many cocktails in Notting Hill, it’s starting to take its toll. This isn’t my life.

In a way, climbing saves me from myself. I need to climb. I need the distraction. I need the focus. I’m lost without it.

It’s ever so slightly difficult to get motivated when I’m out of shape, can’t train with my bad shoulder (not to mention constantly in pain) and the November monsoons are coming fast.

I escaped London for a quite day at the Roaches last Sunday. It felt odd to be climbing after so long away, but it reminded me of all that I miss.

The thesis is finished. Here’s to hoping for a resolution to the shoulder injury sometime soon.

What’s wrong with my shoulder...

Next Thursday I will be having ‘contrasting agent’ injected directly into my joint facilitating MRI visualisation to answer that very question.

It’s unlikely to be good news. After examination the surgeon suggested three possibilities. First, I knackered my shoulder joint on the top through wear and tear (and most likely genetic susceptibility). I didn’t get an exact name for this condition (and never actually heard of it before), but the disheartening part is that it requires surgery. The next likely diagnosis is a SLAP tear, which I’m more familiar with and also requires surgery. Coming in at a very, very distant third is my original diagnosis of an exceptionally severe rotator cuff impingement which is fixable with physical therapy.

At any rate, it looks like climbing is out of the picture for some time. That is of course if I go through with it. A large part of me feels like cancelling my appointment next week (I don’t want a huge needle stuck into the sorest part of my body!!) and sticking my head in the sand again. However the reality of my pain no longer affords me such liberties. I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks. Climbing is agony and yet again I am living in fear of having to pick up the kettle.

Immediately my thoughts turn to why. What did I do wrong.

Trying too hard. Wanting something too much. Pushing myself too much. Ever so slightly believing.

Everything that makes me me.

Am I supposed to give up on that.

In all likelihood it was a random event predicated on nothing more than a desire to climb. But it’s been a tough year – OK, life and my mind tends to wander.

I’m scared.

Shoulder Hell

Yet again, I’ve been occupied with work and had hardly any time for climbing. I was however managing to squeeze in the odd session at the wall here and there... until last week. Ugh, I’m back in shoulder hell. My old injury, whatever it was, is acting up again, only this time it’s much, much worse. I can hardly lift my arm above perpendicular without wincing in pain and I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in weeks. I wake up in pain all of the time.

I guess it’s not surprising since I stopped doing my exercises and I never really knew what was wrong in the first place. Well, this time it’s for real. I’m meeting a surgeon on Thursday *gulp*. First task is to get as proper a diagnosis as possible, which I’m guessing will involve an MRI.

I’m trying my best not to think the worst, but it’s difficult.

Alea iacta est

The good news is that I came close to a Font 7a+. The bad news is that came close to a Font 7a+.

Continuing my new found affair with Peak limestone, I headed up last Sunday for a quick fix. Maybe it was the heat making our decisions fuzzy, but we missed our turn and ended up at Raven Tor. I decided to re-do Too Hard for Mark Leach. I worked this problem a few weeks ago and retro-flashed it this time round. As we were bored we decided to do a video and I was a bit too nonchalant, which resulted in me slipping from the penultimate hold, falling on my back, rolling down the slope and hitting my knee. Needless to say, I wasn't coming off the second time 'round.



I tried a few other problems at Raven Tor, but was feeling way too weak not to mention hot. We then headed to our intended crag, Rubicon.

So I’ve been struggling with a rather simple concept. Right now being weak, injured, out of shape, etc. I’m not that far off my best grade wise. Either the training and sacrifice made little difference, or I wasn’t climbing anywhere near where I should have been. Maybe as always, it’s a bit of both.

I came pretty close to Kudos (the ultra-easy way, with a heel hook). I got both sidepulls and even managed to get my right foot out of the heel hook and left foot on the starting jug a few times, but I was too knackered to complete it.

I’m more likely than not kidding myself, but it does pose a few questions.

We spent the evening chilling at Rheinstor where I flashed the start of an E4 (V4 to the break). I still love this crag and wish that I could bring it back to London.

Wizard of Aus Start

I now have a project, reason enough for the obsession to begin anew. Maybe this time I should dream harder, but therein lies dangerous thoughts.

Peak Limestone

Raven Tor

A friend’s birthday party brought me to the Peak for what I thought was going to be a series of soul destroying bouldering sessions. Happily, I was mistaken.

A V3 at Rheinstor

The sunny weather presented the perfect excuse to eschew grit and try for the first time some Peak limestone.

I hope this sticks...

We started out at a chilled riverside venue not too far from our campsite called Rheinstor. It wasn’t posh enough to make the new Peak District Bouldering guidebook, but it can be found in the old Rockfax Peak Bouldering (‘98). If you like pockets (or indeed, want to train finger strength) then I would say that it’s worth a visit. It only has 12 named problems, the majority of which are the bottom quarter of trad routes, but I found it fun to just have a go at whichever line took my interest and jumped off before it became too committing.

More pocket pulling

After abusing our finger tendons for a few hours, we decided to head to Rubicon and um… abuse our fingers a bit more. I’ve visited Rubicon a few times, but I was never able to climb there since it was half subsumed by the lake. What a great venue. I got A Miller’s Tale on my second try (argh – should have listened to the beta and then it would have been a flash!). I was quite surprised by this as I haven’t been bouldering outside in ages and the last time I climbed with any regularity indoors was last October. I spent the rest of the day relaxing and doing the odd easy problem here and there.

A Miller's Tale

The next morning I was feeling rather tired and mostly just wanted to curl back up in my sleeping bag, but the sunny weather again guilt-tripped me into making the most of it. We headed to Raven Tor, oddly enough more as a reccie for future projects rather than to have a serious session.

After warming up on a few problems, I spied Too Hard for Mark Leach which is comprised of the end bits of Ben’s Roof. It was up my street; slightly powerful, juggy, but with a few interesting holds thrown in to the mix and some interesting moves, so I gave it a try. The throw for the penultimate crimp shut me down a few times, until I realised that I needed to lock more deeply and static it.

Too Hard for Mark Leach

I was really not expecting to tick this problem as I am so far off my best it’s scary. I’m weak, injured, out of shape and completely distracted by life, but still it went in about 20 minutes.


I think that I found a bit of myself once again in a dusty cave. This trip put a lot of perspective back into my life. I wasn’t happy when I was mostly just climbing, but equally not climbing doesn’t work for me either. I’m now faced with the challenge of balancing the two in some sort of happy medium.

And of course I had to find one negative in this otherwise perfect weekend – if I’m climbing Font 6c with not much effort now, why the heck didn’t I climb tons better when I was in shape, argh!

To round the weekend off, we headed for Pleasley Vale near Mansfield. Again, this great little limestone venue wasn’t good enough for the current guidebook, but can be found in the Rockfax one. It doesn’t have many hardcore desperates, but what it does have is a lovely setting and tons of fun problems to try. It’s well worth a visit on a warm summer’s evening.

How to climb if you're short - get your feet as high as you can...

A V3 at Pleasley Vale

Lock and pop - et voilà!

Needless to say – I’m a Peak Limestone convert… and to think people travel all that way and only ever climb on grit :-)

Of Mice and Men

I’ve been totally and completely subsumed into my course and as a consequence, I’ve had next to no time for climbing or much else for that matter. I thought it was a reasonable trade off since I spent years climbing and doing little career-wise. I had to make up for lost time somehow. I even planned for it – I thought the rest would allow my shoulder time to heal properly.

With life being as great as it is, hardly anything worked out as I had hoped. I still feel a million miles away from what I want career wise and my shoulder hates pipetting / writing / typing even more than bouldering and for some odd reason, not climbing at all bothers it more than gentle climbing – how does that work? Argh. I’ve also not had time to do any physio exercises, which hasn’t helped. As soon as I get some spare time, I’m off to the doctors and not leaving until I get this sorted out. Sadly for now it has to wait.

Over the winter I had a few periods of bouldering indoors somewhat regularly, but these sessions would soon be interrupted by a hectic schedule and fall by the wayside. Recently I started mountain biking and cycle commuting again as a means to gain some general fitness in a way that easily fits into my schedule and I’ve also been climbing a few times indoors. I even made it up to the darkest depths of the Churnet for some bouldering one hot weekend. It was however more of an experience in bushwhacking than climbing though and my legs still bear the scars.

The worst thing is that I can’t shake the feeling that this time is different; as if it’s all gone. The usual pattern follows as such after a lay-off: rapid progression from say V3 to V4 and with some effort progression to V5, then plateau and spend ages seeing little improvement. This time ‘round, I seem to be struggling with just getting back to V3 and it’s just slightly irritating. To be fair, I haven’t gone climbing more than two times in a week for months and my mental state isn’t that great (though when is it ever…) which I think plays a large part. Everything just feels so far away from me.

I know that I definitely miss it and need to get it back for lots of reasons. Looking back perhaps it wasn’t the best laid plans…

In the meantime

I’ve always had problems with accepting things as they are. I don’t know if it arises form harbouring residual brain-washed American ideals, the mistaken need to feel in control of things that I’m clearly not in control of, or just a deep seated character flaw. Regardless of its origin, it remains a defining quality. On account of it, I’ve lost friends and my career has suffered many times. Conversely, I think it’s partly what kept me going with bouldering and it definitely contributed to what finally drew me away. I used to think it was a driving force behind me which was both good and bad in equal measure and that it would abate with time and maybe a bit of stability. Right now, I view it as a source of unhappiness. At times I actively wish I could just give in; quit, leave, give up, run away, anything but deal with it; accept it. But ultimately it’s clever enough to find your hiding spot and it more likely than not has grown bigger.

I want a bit of peace above all else and it yet it feels the furthest away from me.

Just when you think it can't get any worse

© Andy Riley

It does.

Fighting the Good Fight

This year was meant to be hard. I was facing a slew of problems that had been swept to the side accumulating in towers that perforated my personality. It was tough. Several times I wanted to give up – it’s so much easier that way. But I kept going thinking I was finally on the right track – I was fighting the good fight.

About a week ago, I found out just how fragile life can be. I spend what feels like the majority of my time fighting, battling, losing, but sometimes winning and getting stronger. I never realised how easily that can all be taken away by a mere whim. It was by far the most frightening moment of my life and I probably never will fully recover.

Right now, it’s hard to want anything more than to just be alive, but maybe that’s exactly what I’ve been fighting for all along.

Carreg Hylldrem

My schedule this year dictated having time off during the worst times, namely January and March. Despite the forecast, we decided to head to North Wales, which was of course very soggy. The mornings were OK, but they quickly changed around noon.

We had an obligatory look the RAC’s and Cromlech boulders, but decided they were either too damp or most likely to be so by the time we got the mats out. We also scoped out Ogwen for future sessions, but the experience was more akin to winter climbing with all of the ice and snow around.

Desperation took us down the Aberglaslyn Gorge arriving at a relatively less damp Nantmor, but once again by the time we walked into the bouldering area, the heavens opened up. Determined to climb something not involving plastic, I remembered reading about a bouldering wall at Carreg Hylldrem that claimed to stay dry in all conditions. Preparing for the worst, we were pleasantly surprised.

What a cool little place. It’s steep, featured and most importantly sheltered from the rain. I can’t believe I’ve never tried it out before. There are 4 main independent ‘up’ lines which the guidebook claims all go at around V4 and a low-level traverse at about V3. Endless eliminates abound as well.

We spent about three hours working the problems and making up our own ones. It was really nice to be climbing on real rock again and I thoroughly recommend giving it a go. I would say that you don’t even have to wait for a monsoon for it to be worth it… but this being North Wales, one is often around the corner anyway.

It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it was good fun.

Return

Exams are finally over, which means that I now have my life back, at least for a short while. I went bouldering (sadly indoors) two days in a row for the first time in ages. The old addiction is coming back. My biggest limiting factor seems to be skin at the moment. Ugh - my hands ache. I found two different V5's that I'm currently working; one at the Arch and one at the West Way. I was hoping to use them as a yardstick for this ‘rebuilding’ phase.

Whilst flailing on one of the aforementioned V5 today, I became aware of a conversation. Before I pulled onto the problem a man and a woman walked into the room. Mid-move on the crux of the V5 the man said to the woman ‘looks like that would be a good one for you’. ‘No way’ she exclaimed. He then added ‘it’s all just strength’. Two points: A). Despite the grimace, I can still hear you. More importantly B). Strength is only the beginning. Every muscle in my body was aching and shouting ‘no!’ If it was just about strength, I probably would have never gotten up a V1 today. I am ridiculously out of shape, tired and distracted. I might not be climbing anywhere near to where I was however, I told myself that I could do this one move. Maybe I would never finish the whole problem, maybe I won’t get my strength back, maybe my life will never get even slightly sorted out, maybe my course was a bad idea (tangent – sorry…), but for god’s sake – I could do this one seemingly impossible to me move!

And I did. Then I fell off the next one.

To me, it’s hardly ever ‘just a boulder problem’.

I still have a rather sinking feeling that began to develop towards the end of last week. I just hope it's all worth it. After I finish something big, I often feel down (as do most people?). I'm hoping it's just that and not foreshadowing. Cue the usual questions as to why am I doing this, why can't I just be happy with how things are... etc.

I was hoping to get out this week, but the weather looks horrible - however on second thought, I think that I need to get out of here.

Everything flows, nothing stands still.