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That time again...
12 October 2012, 7:06 am



So last weekend I went all the way up to Edinburgh to compete in the BLCC at Ratho, this was a bit strange as it was the first competition I’d competed in since having such a terrible time in Briancon. In the week running up to the competition I was finding it really difficult to get myself motivated, and hounded by self-doubt to the point that I’d almost called the whole thing off. I was making excuses for myself before I’d even stepped onto the first climb: I wasn’t fit, I’d been ill, I’d been too busy with starting University, that everyone else was better practised than me, fitter, stronger; I was just going to embarrass myself.

Then in the morning, as I began warming up, I had a sudden moment of clarity, and realised that having these thoughts was ridiculous; I was in Edinburgh now, competing for the title of British Lead Climbing Champion, and making excuses wasn’t going to get me anywhere, wondering how other people were climbing wasn’t going to get me any further up the route, all I had to do was climb.

And I think that’s something I’d never really understood about climbing competitions (in all the years that I’d been doing them) that unlike in many other sports the adversary isn’t really the other person, it’s the route – and you just have to concentrate on getting yourself up it. That seems like an obvious thing but it’s not so easy in practise because you are in direct competition with a pool of people, and it’s easy to start comparing yourself to them, instead of just focusing on the climbing.

So I knew that I had to get rid of these negative thoughts but I had to find some way to do so…

“Positive reinforcement” has never really worked for me (I’m the best, I will top this route, etc. etc.) It’s always struck me as a bit shallow, and a bit ridiculous. And I find it quite difficult to distance myself from self-doubting thought patterns whilst in stressful situations. So I decided to listen to on repeat just before I was about to step up for my qualifiers, and oddly enough it seemed to work for me. There just wasn’t any room for thought, and I wasn’t thinking about how high other people were getting because I was concentrating on the sound.



On both routes I managed to actually TRY HARD – which is really all I ever want out of a climbing competition. I get annoyed when people say things like “As long as you tried your hardest.” Because there’s ‘trying your hardest’ and then there’s ACTUALLY putting all of your effort into getting up those climbs, and up to a point that’s just as important in competitions as how fit or strong you are. But I think that it devalues “trying” to use it as a wishy-washy get out clause for not doing particularly well.

In the end I had a bit of a fluff in the final; it’s hard to remember rightly but I think I found myself thinking about how high I reckoned that other people had got to on the route, and as soon as I got past that point I stopped trying as much and just sort of flopped off… Which was quite obviously a mistake, but something I can work on.



I finished in 3rd place, after Shauna Coxsey and Alex Puccio – both international superstars, so I can’t really complain! For now anyhow, I’m settling into University, getting used to the early starts and the idea of actually being busy, and starting to push myself more in training. The idea of a British Senior team revival has been floating around for a while, and now it seems like it’s actually going to happen. In November I’ll be travelling with a small team to Slovenia, to compete in the last of the World Cups this year, and I reckon it’d be nice to be actually fit for a competition; maybe I won’t have to try quite so hard…



Ah, almost forgot, BMC report here: http://www.thebmc.co.uk/coxseys-reign-remains-unbroken?s=1

Source: Bon Viatge!

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Down time
22 December 2012, 2:44 pm



Well I haven't written one of these in a while; I guess what I see as the point of a climbing blog really is to write about climbing. And I haven't been climbing very much recently, so I can't very well write about it. Over the last month or even more I've been on and off ill, culminating in not actually being able to get out of my bed for much of last week. It's a strange thing that illness and injury always seems to happen whenever things are going quite well; before all this happened I was climbing pretty well, training a lot and really enjoying it.

At the same time I'd been trying to manage two pretty big things: I've started a Materials Science degree at Sheffield (which takes up quite a bit of my time) and I've been selected for the British Bouldering Squad this year. For me the bouldering team is important. I've always competed, pretty much since I started climbing, and it really seems like the management is putting a lot of effort into improving the standard of competition climbing in Britain, and the team's performance in World Cups. It's quite exciting and something I want to be part of.

When I think about it now I realise that there is a logical reason for me getting sick; something which I had been thinking about but maybe didn't want to accept. I'd been trying to do too much, trying to do EVERYTHING I wanted to do: climbing, University, going out and seeing friends; walking in the peaks; I even tried swing dancing. I don't think I realised how much it was taking out of me.

I ended up sacrificing rest and sleep so that I could fit all these things in. But really when I think about it, I ask myself why I was trying to do so much. If climbing and my degree course are what I really love; what I really want to do why should I be wasting my time on other things? People talk about balance, but really if you really want to be good at something balance doesn't come into it much.



But on the other hand if I was to just climb and study, I'd have to be pretty strict with myself. I'd have to stay in all the time, I might lose contact with friends and I wouldn't be able to do a lot of things which I also like to do as well as climb. And would that kind of life make me one-dimensional, is that who I want to be? It's a tough decision, and one that anyone who wants to commit themselves to climbing has to come to terms with.

Last week I just started properly climbing again, it's been brilliant being able to move on a wall. I competed in the Climbing Works Evolv bouldering league, and though I didn't do brilliantly, I probably climbed as well as I could have given the circumstances. And I managed to try really hard; which is all you can really hope for! I'm heading home for christmas now, hoping that a week of good food and heating will push out the last of this sickness. I still have hopes of being well enough, soon enough to be able to compete in at least one World Cup in the New Year.

Here's to a more boring 2013; shalom!

All images stolen from Dom Worral's pics of the Climbing Works winter bouldering league, Round 2.

Source: Bon Viatge!

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"Best of British"
11 February 2013, 5:24 pm



This weekend I took part in the "Best of British" competition; this was to act as a trial for the Team members, to decide which of us would be going to the World Cups this year. It also served as a way of getting us all together to give us some handy, massive water-bottles/protein shakers from new team supporters "Optimum Nutrition" and to take a picture of us in the new Sherpa shirts - although I missed that one because I was faffing about changing into the damn thing.

Firstly I wanted to thank the Biscuit Factory for hosting such a great event; the Blocfest organisers for doing what they do (I assume from their heavy presence;) and the spectators - the amount of support was incredible, and is surely a good sign for the future of British comp climbing.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Look at all those people![/td][/tr]

[/table]Before the event I was more than worried about the competition, a curious mixture of nervous and resigned, my sickness had dragged on into the New Year and I'd only recovered from it's most recent manifestation - a lovely hacking cough - on the Wednesday before the comp weekend. I had debated not doing the comp, but decided in the end that no matter how badly I did, it could act as a good practise and a foundation from which to build.

Somehow though, the competition didn't go quite the way I expected it to. I managed to finish the qualifying round in fourth position - straight in the middle of the women - purely by trying really hard (and with the help of a cheeky toe-hook on the final problem.) The 5 minutes on 5 minutes off format really drained me though, and I was lucky that the last problem was a balancy wall climb as doubt I would have been able to pull any more. The relative boredom of the final format suddenly looked very attractive.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]First final problem - cheeky knee bar (NOT ME)

[/td][/tr]

[/table]In the final, well, I think the situation I was in almost helped me because I climbed like I had nothing to lose. The first two climbs were very dynamic and I usually would have approached them more cautiously, but in my position I didn't really care for caution - I couldn't afford it either as I didn't have the fitness to stay on the wall for any real length of time - I just threw myself up the wall. It felt a bit like I was possessed. By the time I got to the last problem, a relatively steady wall-ish climb involving some serious volume action, I was boxed and could barely pull off the floor. But it didn't matter; I'd managed to secure third with the first three problems.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Final problem - ALSO NOT ME (I didn't get this far)[/td][/tr]

[/table]

I've heard people say that will is as important a part of climbing as any other muscle, and increasingly I'm inclined to believe this avenue of thought. I wouldn't say that the way in which I competed this weekend was sound tactics, you can't really rely on pure desperation getting you up things; and I got lucky in terms of the problems and the way my competitors performed. That said I think there might be something to climbing like you haven't got anything to lose - only with a bit of strength and training to back that up!

Results:Male:Ned Feehally

Dave Barrans

James Garden

Ben West

Nathan Phillips

Jon Partridge

Gareth Parry

Tom Newman

Female:Mina Leslie-Wujastick

Leah Crane

Michaela Tracy

Diane Merrick

Gill Peet

Anna Trybis

Katy Forrester

Video of final: http://new.livestream.com/archclimbingwall/events/1858609

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Thank you Arch - Sorry for stealing your photos.[/td][/tr]

[/table]Ps. You'll notice that none of the people in these photos are me. I think that that is because I didn't have one of these GB climbing vests. Here's hoping for next time.

Source: Bon Viatge!

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Competitions, competitions...
16 March 2013, 5:55 pm





This month has been a hectic one. The last thing I wrote (after the team trials,) I wrote in a wave of thoughts and emotions; I didn’t know if I’d done enough to qualify for the team this year, I’d been expecting to have to fight to retain my place on the squad. A week later I got an email confirming my place on the 2013 World Cup Team, and since then it’s been difficult to find time to sit down. I certainly didn’t think that in my first year really back into competition climbing I’d be entering World Cups. I needed to get some more comp experience, fast.

Round One

First up was the BUCS – the British Universities & Colleges Sport (championships I guess?) – held each year at the Climbing Works in Sheffield. Luckily I didn’t have too far to travel this time. This was my first year doing the competition and I wasn’t really prepared for how manic it would be! There are about 200 students trying to get on the same 25 problems in 3 hours, and the route-setters have to accommodate everyone from beginners to some really strong unknown climbers hiding out in Universities across the UK.

I was a bit anxious in the run up to this competition; being on the team proper, I suddenly felt a whole lot more pressure on me – like I HAD to win this competition to justify my being on the team. Luckily, I managed to pull it out of the bag by squirming up a super funky wall climb by mistake (which proved to be crucial for winning,) taking home Gold for both the Individual and Team events. Oh I also had an excellent day out on the grit, climbing a beautiful problem called Satin at Stanage. I’d always looked at this problem but dismissed it as being too technical for me. Surprisingly it wasn’t that hard, it just involved quite a subtle shift in body position – similar to the problem in the competition earlier that day. Recently I’ve been forced to shift my approach to climbing from one of pure pulling to focussing more on technical aspects; it’s actually been quite interesting!  

Anyway, one down…

Round Two

The Climbing Works International Festival. This competition is always especially fraught for me, mostly because every year Percy inevitably announces me as a previous winner of the CWIF. Let me clear something up: I am not. One year I came second. But I digress.

Actually I did feel a bit sick in the week before the CWIF. Despite the fact that I’d managed to win the competition the week before, I did feel laughably weak, and this competition was a much bigger deal. I’d also agreed to dress up as Catman from the band Kiss for the qualifiers for some unknown reason. In the end that turned out pretty well, having face-paint and a big black wig on helped take a lot of the pressure off; even though I didn’t think that I’d climbed that well in the qualifying round, I somehow managed to qualify in sixth place.



After a pretty steady semi-final, I ended as the fifth ranked out of six finalists, composed of the other members of the British Bouldering Team and Alex Puccio.

Well I had a bit of an odd final, I came close to the first two problems but just couldn’t manage the last move, which was a bit frustrating – especially on the second problem where I missed an obvious good part of the hold. However I was happy with finishing sixth this year. At the start of the training season I’d told myself that this year I would train hard, get strong and be in the running for winning national comps, or at least getting on the podium. But that didn’t happen; instead I had to take months of because of sickness, and I’ve felt like I’ve been struggling to not embarrass myself in all the competitions I’ve done this year. The funny thing is that despite all of this I didn’t feel that out of place in the final of the CWIF; I had no chance of winning, but somehow I felt like I still belonged there.





I think that not being able to climb, while stressful, frustrating and sometimes upsetting, was almost necessary for me. It taught me something that I’d forgotten, or being an indoor climber from a young age never really understood: climbing isn’t just about being the strongest, it’s also about just being good – knowing how the climb wants to be climbed, and when in a comp to just take a chance and jump. Similarly it made me realise that as a climber I’m more than a simple sum of the training that I’ve done; that climbing, even in competitions, is much more than that.

Round ThreeMy third competition in as many weeks was the final round of the Blocfest in London. This new series of comps in London is probably the coolest comp series I’ve ever done. The organisers did an amazing job and I hope to be able to do more next year.

After a qualifying round of 25 problems I was tied for first with visiting Czech crusher Karolina Nevelikova. Viewing the final problems, they didn’t look too tough – it looked like to win you’d have to flash them all. Well it was between me, Audrey (former British champion) and Karolina. I ended up dropping an attempt on a running jump problem due to wimping out and making a feeble attempt at a standing jump. Lesson learnt: next time don’t fanny about! Results were:

1^st – Karolina

2^nd – Me

3^rd – Audrey

Of course after all the stress and competitions, the only thing left to do was party in London!



Soon I’ll be leaving this country for sunny Antalya (Turkey) to indulge my penchant for climbing long bits of limestone in the sun with a rope, and hopefully ticking soft 8’s.

Ho?çakal?n

Source: Bon Viatge!

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Geyikbayiri (GAYG-BIRE-AH)
2 April 2013, 9:36 pm



When I was composing this in my head, I realised how great it was to be writing about going on a climbing trip, as opposed to just climbing indoors (or not climbing indoors.) I grew up in London, only climbing indoors, and it took me a long time to really get outdoors climbing - at first I found it really frustrating - but now, and especially right now, I realise how much better and more satisfying it actually is; and how much I miss it.

This time I went to Geyikbayiri in Turkey, a crag I'd never been to before in a country I'd never been to before. Turkey isn't as popular perhaps as places in Spain or France, maybe because the flights are a bit more; it's more of a journey; and is an unknown entity as opposed to the well beaten tracks of Siurana, Margalef or Ceuse. Well if you're thinking of taking a climbing trip I would strongly recommend Geyikbayiri over all of these bar Margalef. I couldn't comment on Margalef as I haven't been there yet - however given the choice I'd go to Geyikbayiri, especially around Easter given that my experience of Spain at that time is that it is both wet and rammed.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]This picture doesn't do full justice to Geyikbayiri...[/td][/tr]

[/table]

Geyikbayiri is a beautiful crag in an amazing place, I can see why many of the people who work at the campsites there keep coming back - I've been gone for less than a week and already I want to go back there. We only went for ten days, which in retrospect was not nearly enough. The travel to the campsite was brutal: an overnight flight from Stanstead, followed by a stop-over in Istanbul, and finally a confused bus journey from Antalya airport to Cakirlar and a quick hitch up the hill. Details on bus travel here in case anyone does decide to go:

600 bus from Airport to Otogar - 3.5 lira each (or you can take the coach for more money)

Then find the mini-bus station which is further down the road from the exit to the Otogar, by the big blue buildings.

501and 521 mini-buses go to cakirlar (potentially others do as well but I'm not sure, the destination is on the front) 2 lira each

Hitch-hike up the road. Buses do go up the hill - three times a day - but it's an easy hitch.

I wouldn't wish what happened to us on anyone. It took us over five hours from our flight arriving to actually finding the place; it's only a two hour trip at the very most. No-one in Turkey speaks english, so we eventually ended up taking out the guide-book and pointing at it, hoping that would get us somewhere. Of course you could just get picked up from the airport for 40 euros but where's the fun in that? There are a number of different campsites in the area, the main ones being Josito, Climbers Garden, and then the one we stayed at - Kezban's guesthouse. Although not quite as established, popular or well constructed as the others, I was a fan of Kezban's. It's owned by a local woman, and I quite enjoyed having a more "Turkish" experience, even if that meant a bit of a drafty cabin; never really knowing where the guy running it (Emreh) was; having our "European" food mocked; and having to cope with a hungry mouse that sometimes ventured into our hut.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]NOT Kezban (Emreh)[/td][/tr]

[/table]

We only really got 6 days of climbing in - with rest days and one day of rain. I found the climbing quite physical as well, so skipping rest days wasn't really an option. I think part of me expected that I'd be able to go to Turkey and just bash out hard climbs, like I'd been able to earlier in the year. I guess I should have thought about the fact that I hadn't climbed a route outdoors in over six months, but once I'd got over the mild disappointment and adjusted my expectations accordingly, I was able to get on with the business of climbing and having a good holiday.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Traditional tea[/td][/tr]

[/table]

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Market in Pazar on Sundays[/td][/tr]

[/table]

The area we visited most was Trebenna, as it was pretty hot in the sun and this sector has perma-shade. The climbing here is really cool, and really varied: 3-D, pumpy, bouldery, technical, crimpy, tufas - it's got everything! That's kind of the whole vibe of Geyikbayiri in general; every climb is different, there are so many different areas, you never just end up doing the same move over and over again.

Some really great climbs I did while I was here were: "Black Moon", "Leon" (technical), "No Money, No Dance," "Trebenna,"  "Aquaplan" (possibly the best 6b+ in the known world), "Arsenic" (actually quite good although short and slightly awkward),  "Karinca" and "Ahtapot" (bloody hard)

Geyikbayiri's best climbs are probably in the 7a-8a range I would say, some of the easier ones were short and a bit hard, and there weren't that many harder. I would strongly recommend Turkey, and will definitely be coming back.



Source: Bon Viatge!

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World Class?
30 April 2013, 6:11 pm



I haven't had a chance to write anything here recently; for the past few weeks I haven't really been able to think of anything outside training (and university of course if you're reading this Jack!) The reason for this sudden onset of psyche is that I have recently been competing in some of the Bouldering World Cup rounds. This is my first World Cup season, and it's sort of crept up on me while I wasn't looking...



Travelling to Millau I didn't feel like I was going to compete in a World Cup; I had no idea what to expect, or even what I was doing there. I'd watched the competitions on the internet and read other people's blogs about them, but that doesn't really give a sense of what competing in one is really like. One thing it certainly doesn't tell you about is all the time spent doing, well, not very much. You wait at the airport; sit in the plane; transfer to a car; check-in, then register and wait for the technical meeting to start - purely for something to do – have dinner then wait until it's a reasonable time to go to bed. And then you wake up and have breakfast only to go into isolation and wait some more!

Seeing as I was unranked and in a group of 46, I had about five hours in isolation, that's just one room and I didn't even remember a book. Being in there it starts to really hit you that you're not just in France for a holiday; you're here to compete. You watch all the people that you've watched over the internet before, warming up – but it's still hours to go before you have to climb. You try to stop yourself thinking about what the climbs will be like; try to silence the little voice in your head telling you that all these people look so much stronger than you; try to warm up properly (but not too much!) And then it's your name that they're calling, and you're taken to a second holding area where you put on your shoes, double check: chalk, water, everything. Wonder whether you're going to be sick or just fall asleep...

Then you get out there and everything changes; you're confronted by a room full of noise, under a blazing spotlight, looking at a problem that looks nothing like any of the ones you imagined back in the underwater world of isolation. And then for the next fifty minutes your life is planned out for you in a series of rests, boulder problems, more rests and yet more problems.

I'd like to be able to report that I had an amazing competition in Millau, and that I exceeded all my expectations, but I didn't; I climbed OK, managed to pick up a couple of bonuses and ended up in 35^th place. But it wasn't that the climbs were too hard, just that I wasn't quite strong enough or fit enough, which is quite an important distinction. I wasn't unhappy with my result, I didn't deserve any higher that what I got. I just knew that I had to pull my finger out if I wanted to do better next time, and I had a feeling that I could.

In the three weeks between Millau and Kitzbuhel I did just that. I filled time between university and sleep with campusing, board training, pull-ups, lock-offs, sit-ups and push-ups; I changed my diet to include more protein, and less chocolate. I went back to the Tor after a week of this and tried Ben's roof for the first time in two years, I linked it in two sections. The next weekend I came back and got within one hold of the top – this was the weekend before Kitzbuhel. I knew when I left that I was stronger than before Millau, but I didn't want to let myself hope for a better result; I didn't want that thought in my head to be there, putting me off.



As soon as I flashed the first problem, I knew that I was climbing much better than last time. In Millau I'd spent ages on every problem, getting more tired and frustrated. This time I was climbing problems, and quickly. When I got to the last problem I knew that there was a good chance I could get into the semis if I did it, unfortunately it wasn't to be and I ended up 12^thin my group and 23^rd overall. I'm happy with the progression though, and this comp has shown me that I really need to work on holding slopers – almost every time I fell off involved a sloper of some sort.

Climbing, both in competitions and pushing yourself outdoors, is addictive. As soon as I got down from the mats in Millau, out of the lights and the noise, I wanted more, and Kitzbuhel hasn't changed that at all. I don't know how much I can improve in the two weeks between now and the next competition, but I'm going to try, because I know that it really is worth it.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Taken during the Kitzbuhel final[/td][/tr]

[/table]



Source: Bon Viatge!

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Time to Breathe...
16 May 2013, 3:28 pm



So after another round of craziness, another weekend of early wake-up calls and budget planes; hotel rooms and buffet breakfasts; five minutes on – five minutes off; way too much coffee, here I am again. Only this time there's no plane coming to take me away in two weeks time, no hot breath of impending world cup panic down my neck, no more waking up in another country with all its alien sights and smells and sounds.

The rest of the team should be on their way to Innsbruck by now, and in June they'll be heading all the way to Toronto and Vail. I'm sad to be missing out, but at the same time I know that the next time I do one of these comps I want to be really competing, not just participating, and weeks of scrambling to fit in training around flights and comps and exams isn't going to get me where I need to be. Three months of solid training might.



It's been great travelling with such a positive, psyched team, the competitions have just gotten better and better, and this seems like a good one to be going out on. One of my personal highlights was watching Dave Barrans levitate up problem 3 in the men's semis to an impressive 8^th place (ahead of last year's champion Rustam Gelmanov) – seriously watch the repeat, it's ridiculous. With Mina, Leah and Shauna that makes four GB climbers in the semis, and it feels like that can only improve.

Why wasn't I in there?

Well, I had a bit of a bad day: I put my foot on the wrong part of a foothold on the first problem (whilst thinking that it was probably a bad idea to put my foot there;) my hand slipped out of the last hold on problem 3, and I didn't trust in my ability to do a move on the last problem without matching. I topped the first and last in the end, but in too many attempts and I came out with 27^th. Climbing competitions are as much about the mental side as the physical and my head just wasn't all there. Every time I came out to climb a problem I'd look at the problem and think:“Ooh, that looks cool!” not, “I'm going to do this problem.” - or whatever. It's hard to find a balance and I might have erred too far on the side of chilled this time.

And the Final?

You've got to hand it to Jacky Godoffe, he knows a thing or two about setting blocs. I never thought I'd be saying this about a climbing competition, but it was actually really exciting, nerve-wracking, painful sometimes... In a good final you really feel the emotions of the climbers as they climb, both elation in success and anger or disappointment in failure. I'd definitely recommend going to one (if you're into that kind of thing) the atmosphere is so good, it's completely different to watching online. There's music, beer, crowds of people and shouting; it feels like a big party, and it's hard not to get caught up in it all – I woke up with half a voice from screaming encouragement. It was also great to see Shauna smashing it again to another well deserved podium position.

What now?

Now immediately I have a disappointingly small number of days to prepare for end of year Uni exams. In the short term I'm hoping for an atypical British summer so I can get on some limestone around the UK. This Summer I have plans to climb in America (Rumney predominantly) and possibly a trip to Ceuse...

Oh and train my ass off for Munich in three months time!

Prost!



Also I have shamelessly stolen all of my photos from Eddie Fowke

You should check him out, he take some good climbing pics:

https://www.facebook.com/eddiefowkephotography

http://eddiefowkephotography.com



Source: Bon Viatge!

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Salad Days
5 July 2013, 5:57 pm



Looking back at the last one of these things I wrote, I'm actually a little bit embarrassed. I made all these plans to train hard indoors; stay focussed; get myself on form for the next World Cup in Munich. Well it's enough to say that I've decided to stop making plans for now, especially when it comes to climbing. You start making plans, then life just gobbles them up and shits them out, and you're left thinking: well this looks nothing like what I started with!

It's not like I didn't get to do any climbing over the last month. During my exams I managed to nab the second ascent of the Melbourn Road traverse, a true hidden gem.



The first ascent of this little known crimpy classic was claimed by the elusive Luke Porter last year. After a few sessions, squeezed in between last minute exam preparation, I was finally able to send the problem; one of the finest moments of my climbing career.



Actually the moves on it are really quality, but you can't do it now as my landlady's moving back in and I don't imagine she'd appreciate it.

Further afield, I got to climb on English limestone more times than I can count on one hand! I thought when I moved to Sheffield, four years ago, that it would be easy to find climbing partners and get out, but for some reason I haven't actually been able to until this year. Perhaps I can put that down to my poor people skills, it is a real shame though as that's what climbing's about really. It's not about going to the gym; getting on the campus board; how many push-ups or pull-ups or sit-ups you do… It's about being outside and climbing something cool, something inspiring.

Well, whatever. I'm glad to have had a chance to get out this summer a bit, and can't wait to come back in October and get involved. The most memorable things I did were:

• A climb called "Wild in Me" at the Tor, which I mostly did for the name, but it turned out to be a pretty good route - if you like dirt crimps that is…
• Finally getting to the legendary Minus Ten wall, where I somehow managed to haul my ass up a problem called White Ladder (given 7c in the new guide??) - also dirt crimps.

Oh and I got to enjoy these glimmers of an English Summer we've had! I don't trust it for an instant though, so I've escaped to the US of A for the next month where I'm going to, well, I don't know yet.

Go have a climb at the cornice for me.

x



Source: Bon Viatge!

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Americana
12 July 2013, 4:21 pm



To elaborate on my last post, I will be spending the next month in the little know state of New Hampshire. Famous for holding the first primary in the US election, some of the highest recorded wind speeds on the planet and, er, maple syrup? New Hampshire is not exactly on the climbing map as such, despite having the nickname "The Granite State" - for reasons you can probably guess, and having produced some fairly handy climbers such as Dave Graham and Joe Kinder, among others. New Hampshire has some really amazing trad climbing, and I'm psyched to - at some point during this trip - learn how to place gear (and with any luck not kill myself) but at the moment I'm sticking to the sport.

It actually struck me that sport climbing here is much like sport climbing in the UK, in that there are a lot of different crags with smaller numbers of good quality sport climbs than in places like Spain or France, oh and they're all flipping hard. At any sport crag, entry level 7a is pretty standard - something that I found a bit scary as it gives you no opportunity to ease into the rock type; if you don't want to try hard, you might as well not bother with the hike in…

First stepsThe first crag I was taken to was the local's summer crag, Wild River. 45 minutes hike down a small, boggy trail takes you to a large outcrop of rock, which looms intimidatingly out of the forest. I remember thinking that I hadn't really thought through what I was getting myself in for. More used to six or seven bolt crimpy limestone sport routes, here I was looking up at routes that were at least twice the size, on a completely different rock type, and I couldn't see any of the holds. Oh dear.



For a moment it all got the better of me, and I had to ask if it was alright to second the first route, our 7a "warm-up," luckily a few minutes later I changed my mind and decided to take the hit. I felt like a fish out of water, but I realised that it was an experience to be here; to be able to climb such wild looking routes, and that I'd miss a big part of if I decided to stay in my comfort zone and top-rope the first route. Sometimes it's better to play it safe, but sometimes it's better to run screaming downhill, arms flailing, hoping it all works out for the best. This was one of those times.



Sitting on a small ledge at the top of the climb, looking out at the rows of tree-lined hills stretching out into the distance, I had to laugh, I had to shout, I felt like I'd made the only righteous decision. It was't pretty by any means, I'd flapped and flailed and made some funny noises, even managed to rip my trousers, but I'd got to the top; more importantly I'd had a great time! I realised that I like this type of climbing. I like the 3D challenge, the fact that it's not just a path of chalk for you to follow, and you have to always be looking around for hand-holds, foot-holds; scraping bits of lichen off with your feet; stemming; I even managed to get some finger locks in!

Unlike sport climbing in the UK, this is full on, multi dimensional, full body climbing, and it's weird, and it's terrifying, and it's fun. I find it really easy just to get stuck into a routine of doing what I know, doing what's easy or comfortable, but recently I've been trying to put myself out a bit more; risk failing, risk succeeding.

Unfortunately since then the weather has been rather unsettled and it's either been too hot to climb or thunderstorms, so I've been taking the time to enjoy other local delights such as:

Hiking (walking up hills to look at stuff...)



The wildlife





Local beer



And more familiar pursuits...





After all, I have got a world cup in August to think about...

Source: Bon Viatge!

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Part Two
24 July 2013, 2:41 pm



I've noticed that my writing has been a bit ego-centric recently, which actually sort of goes against why I initially started this; as a platform from which to share some of the amazing places I visited on my journey through Europe. I suppose I can only write about things from my perspective, but this time I don't want to write about myself, I just want to write about New England.

New England, and specifically the White Mountain area, is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, and one of the best places to climb. Within reasonable driving distance you have granite sport, multi-pitch trad, bouldering and loads of other obscure rock types related to granite, such as the schist of Rumney, plus tons of unknown crags tucked away in the woods like Sundown, Wild River and Shagg… And as well as that you also have the wild beauty of the White Mountains; the hiking; the fact that many crags have a river nearby you can jump in to cool off on the way home. There's also a great local food movement of making things "farm to table" - locally sourcing and using seasonal ingredients as far as possible - and you can get kick-ass (and healthy!) wraps in almost any town. Oh and did I mention the local beer?

Well I have to admit that I've never been climbing anywhere in the US apart from New England, but I have been all over Europe, and as well as being one of the first places I ever climbed New Hampshire remains one of the best. In fact every time I come back it gets better, as I become more equipped to deal with the funky and somewhat gnarly nature of the climbing here.

So you can probably tell by that I'm pretty much in love with New England. If (/when) I have a chance to do another van trip, I'm going to do it round America, and I'm coming here first!

Bottom line: New England is ace, you should check it out.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]"Toothless Grin"/"Summer-teeth" - Sundown[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]"Vultures" - Sundown[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]"Eyeless in Gaza" - Sundown[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Rumney Scenes[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Echinacea in the Garden[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Jack's Beanstalk[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]New Hampshire is also only a short drive from the coast of Maine![/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Good Morning Glory [/td][/tr]

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Source: Bon Viatge!

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Back in the Game
22 December 2013, 1:09 pm

Why am I doing this? It's a question which seems hard to answer sometimes, mostly mid-way through a campus session; when the rest of the people in the wall are hustling and bustling around me, from problem to problem, and I'm sat in this cool bubble of right hand, left hand, rest, repeat. How many times do I have to do this?

Or when work for university is stacking up, and on the weekend I've got to be in some other city for a competition, team training, whatever, and I'm wondering when I'll have time to just sit down in my room, and not feel like there's something else I should be doing. When everyone's saying how great last night was, and I'm just wondering: how many days will that set me back?

On some level it's for the sense of victory on accomplishing something, outside on rock and in competitions; and on a smaller level on just being able to eke out a pull up with just one more kilo on. And I've had some successes recently, in the realms of climbing. This winter I've competed in two of the Blokfest competitions; great competitions with a mega final at the end, which always has some really cool and challenging problems (no not blocs -we're not in France) and somehow come out on top against some really tough competition.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Blokfest 1- Mile End[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Blokfest 1 - Mile End[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Blokfest 1 - Mile End[/td][/tr]

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I've only been able to get out on rock two days this winter! Poor planning on my part, but on both of these days I managed to exceed my expectations; climbing Captain Hook at Stanage Plantation on the first, and Dry Wit in a Wet Country (not that hard with a sea of pads but amazing!) and T-Crack, a problem which I once said there was no way I could ever do.

But achievement's not enough of a reason, because there are times when this doesn't apply, when you drag yourself down to the wall and you can barely pull on the holds, at the Foundry especially, when the wave just seems a little too vicious and your bloody feet keep coming off, whatever - time to sack it off.

For me it's more than winning, than claiming a problem to write down in my book; it's such a part of my life, it's taken me to amazing places and I've met such interesting people, and got to experience all sorts of things that I never would have otherwise. Climbing has changed my life for the better.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]At Terredets - Bruixes[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Emreh (from Geyikbayiri)[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]City lights from from a height - Ager (Spain)[/td][/tr]

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But sometimes it's not this either. Some dark winter evenings when you trudge down to the wall again, and you can barely keep your eyes off the pavement, and you wonder - do I really want to be here? Sometimes it feels like it's all you've got.

To end this on a high: from this moment forth, I will hence be sponsored by Scarpa - who make pretty ace shoes and approach shoes. Unfortunately I will no longer be able to list my sponsors as "none" in that sheet you get to fill out sometimes before finals, however that's more than made up for by being able to join this team of cool cats, representing Scarpa.



Ciao!

Source: Bon Viatge!

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One step closer...
31 January 2014, 4:10 pm



To what? Well I’m not really sure, but since Christmas I’ve been stuck in a strange kind of tunnel of work and training. I had the realisation at the beginning of the year that I just wasn’t pushing myself hard enough anymore; it was like I’d stepped through a door and suddenly everything had changed. I remember hearing this all the time - eventually your body adjusts to the training you do and you just stop improving - but damn whenever it happens to me I always seem to take a couple of weeks to catch on.

So I set myself a few things to work on:

1) Climb more on the competition wall at the works, there is a reason why it is called the competition wall!

2) Campus with some weight on, possibly controversial but I had just stopped improving without the weight and the next rungs were just a little too far away.

3) Get on the 45 board at the works at least once a week. Man that board is good.

4) One arm pull-up - just to have a party trick; they’re not actually very useful.

5) Get a decent mark in my exams because they count this time!

6) Er, maybe start finger-boarding? (Still haven’t managed this one…)

So far all this seems to have been working out fairly well. I’ve just emerged from the other side of my own personal exam-time tunnel, and I feel potentially like I might just be the strongest I’ve ever been (bar when I was away in Europe and climbing almost every day.) I feel like you build up these expectations of yourself, and you think you know almost without trying what you can and can’t do, and it feels great when you can confound those expectations you have and really surprise yourself; whether outside on a hard redpoint or even at the wall - and particularly on the wave.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Blokfest scenes, a busy day![/td][/tr]

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I had one of these experiences recently at the last Blokfest. This was the third one of these that I’d competed in, and I’d somehow managed to win the previous two, but this time when I came out to look at the finals, I didn’t feel confident. I just didn’t think I could one of them; it looked really hard, the penultimate hold was pretty ming. But when it was my turn to climb, I was able to throw these doubts away and just get on with it. Every time I got on a climb I just didn’t give up until I was at the top, it felt amazing!

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Tara on the second problem - that small pink dot is the hold I was talking about[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Psyched out of my little mind after flashing all the finals problems![/td][/tr]

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So the real business starts this weekend. Here’s what it looks like:

31st January - Last round of The Works Bouldering League

1st February - Rocfest Manchester

2nd February - British Bouldering Team Training

8th February - Foundry Bouldering Open

15th February - Blokfest at the Castle

17th February - Last round of the Foundry Bouldering League

23rd February - Selection Event for the British Bouldering Team

Oh and it’s back to university next week.I’m going to need a break by the end of this month!

Also I tried these on the other day, some seriously badass shoes...





Source: Bon Viatge!

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Competitioning
22 February 2014, 8:19 pm

Ah February, another month of pissing rain. It seems like the only blue skies I’ve seen recently have been through the windows of a lecture theatre, daydreaming about summer, spanish limestone and french cheese. Still this weather has meant that I’ve not felt so bad about the number of hours I’ve spent in climbing walls at the weekend, at some competition or other. Over the past five weeks I’ve done at least four major comps that I can think of, as well as a number of smaller ones; they’re all starting to blur together a little.

It’s actually been a great experience because it’s really changed my outlook on things, or made me realize some things that I was sort of thinking last year but couldn’t quite get my head to work out entirely. I stopped competing four years ago, partly because I didn’t really enjoy it, and partly because I didn’t think I was any good at it. The last few weeks have taught me that I do actually enjoy competing, and perhaps my problem might have been that I had the wrong attitude towards it.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Trying pretty hard not to cock up the slab[/td][/tr]

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When I was younger I used to think of competing as a deadly serious matter, and that how I did was in some way a reflection of who I was, or how much I was worth. When I think back on that now, I wish I had never competed as a youth because it really tainted my view on climbing.

Now I realize that people don’t put on competitions as a way for us to satisfy our need for self-assurance, because no one really cares about that - especially not the organizers. At the end of the day competitions aren’t always a pure measure of *who’s the better/stronger climber* anyway, it’s a matter of who can work out and get up a certain number of unknown problems in four minutes.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Stu Littlefair using some unconventional beta at the FBO-14[/td][/tr]

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In a way comps are just entertainment, especially these days with DJs, massive crowds and flashing lights. If I think back to the BBCs, held as a series in such prestigious walls as “Preston leisure center,” it’s completely absurd!

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Liam's despair at dropping the last move in the Castle Blokfest final...[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]...and John Partridge topping out, and becoming Blokfest champion[/td][/tr]

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So why do competitions at all? Well mostly because they’re incredibly fun. I’m not talking about the circuit of twenty-ish problems type competition, I hate that part, I’m talking about those three or four minutes you’ve got to yourself, and everything else fades to black. Those moments when you’re on a climb and you can’t hear anything but the sound of your own thoughts trying to work out how to get the next move; when you find yourself at the top thinking how the hell did I just do that? In these moments I feel truly and distinctly alive.

So apologies for getting all existential, it’s been a long train journey to London with the team selection event, to decide who gets to compete in the World Cups this year, looming tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll get to compete again this year on the biggest stage of all...



Totally forgot to credit my photos! Most by Simon Fowler, who takes a mean comp photo, one by Paul Bennet (at the FBO) and one by some guy called Juozas Bobinas - shameless pilfering I'm afraid.



Source: Bon Viatge!

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Making the grade
1 April 2014, 7:36 pm



The last time I wrote on of these I was on the edge of the day that would decide whether I would have the chance to compete in this year’s Bouldering World Cup. I didn’t want to fasten this into words at the time, but I was nervous. I knew I was climbing well; I knew that I’d worked hard this year: put the time in, got to bed early, been more careful about what I ate, how much I drank… Part of me was worried still though - had I done enough? And of course it means more when you’ve put so much effort in, all those hours pile pressure onto you - suddenly you have so much more to lose.

The problems - set by Percy, Gaz and Mike Langley - were all really hard, and had all the perverse twists and turns of a World Cup set. Thankfully I was able to summon the will from somewhere to scream and fight my way up enough problems to gain me a place on the team for 2014. I was happy with how I’d done, it felt like a vindication of all the time I’d spent and all the effort that I’d put in - although now it feels like all of that has just been enough to get me to the starting line.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Holding the swing - yeah!![/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Shauna on a pretty special slab problem[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Leah on one of the rarer problems

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I feel like I’m just beginning to understand what it takes to be competitive in climbing on the world stage, and it’s a lot of hard work. You have to be organised and dedicated with your training, because inevitably you’re going to regret that session that you put off until next week when there are no more next weeks left. You have to force yourself to do things that you don’t necessarily want to do, like going for a run when it’s looking grim outside. You have to be ready to fight, even when you don’t want to: when you’re tired, when the weather’s looking beautiful and you’d rather be outside climbing than in a stuffy climbing wall, when you’re looking at a problem that seems just impossible and you can feel the time ticking away. You have to give up quite a lot, without ever being sure that what you get back will be worth what you’ve given away.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Yes this move was hard enough to merit the gurn...[/td][/tr]

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I can’t say that I am entirely confident that I have done enough to be prepared for the world cup season this year, however it was assuring to only miss out on this year’s CWIF final by a place, despite an incredibly strong European field - and mostly due to my inability to smear. Last year I felt like there was no way I could compete with even the best in Britain, let alone the world. This year that doesn’t feel quite so unattainable.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Results of this years CWIF[/td][/tr]

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As I write this, we are coming up to a fairly hefty Easter break. This couldn’t come at a better time really; juggling training and university has become ever more difficult as the year has ground on and I could really do with a break before I drop something in a catastrophic way. At the end of the week I’ll be getting on a plane to Spain for two weeks in Margalef! Ever since I spent a number of months there in a van I’ve been wanting to go back to the mega-limestone routes, cool sunsets, hills rolling away, the ever-present dust and crappy little rocks to sit on, freezing rivers and lakes, tiny Spanish towns with shops selling rock-hard bread…

Basically yeah, Spain!!!!!!

All the photos in this were taken by the awesome Ben Grubb - some more photos of the event can be found here.

Also they made a !

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]I can't work out how to format my blog so this'll have to go here[/td][/tr]

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Source: Bon Viatge!

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Round One
13 May 2014, 5:18 pm

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]An amazing view...apparently.[/td][/tr]

[/table]These are just some quick thoughts that I wrote down in the immediate aftermath of last weekends World Cup. I didn’t really know what to expect here, both of the problems and of myself. I knew that I was climbing better than last year; that I was stronger than last year, but I also knew that if I wanted to make the semifinal I’d need to climb my best, and I’d need to get the right problems. Sometimes it’s almost like a roulette with the setting - you could get something that suits you; something you’re used to, or you could get something that’s just plain weird.

Unfortunately this time I got weird. I could bore you with a step by step run down of all the problems, but I’d probably lose you all at number three. It’s enough to say that there was quite a lot of sideways running, jumping around on tiny (and weirdly slippy) crimps, and standing on really rubbish footholds.

It’s easy to forget I think, how hard the problems are in the World Cups. Especially when you’ve been competing in UK comps, and doing alright. All the crimps here are just that little bit crimpier; all the slopers just a little too slopey; all the footholds just a bit too poor to really put any weight through. To be any good here, you really have to be outstanding in the UK - just good isn’t good enough, strong isn’t strong enough.

However it was good to know that I could have a distinctly average day and still come so close to the semi-finals. I didn’t feel a million miles off as well, I just felt like I needed an extra 10 percent to take me from almost holding the correct positions, then coming off, to actually holding them and being able to move onwards. Getting that extra 10 percent is what seems to be the tricky part though...

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Giving it some on the greasy crimps - next time I'll remember liquid chalk![/td][/tr]

[/table]It’s strange that you never really know how anyone else is doing on your problems, there’s so much noise and you’re so concentrated on what you’re doing that it’s impossible to tell. I thought I’d had a terrible day by the last problem - I thought the best I could hope for was to rescue my honor - but I still managed to keep it together and top the last problem on my second attempt, which turned out to be the difference. We had a hard set, three tops was enough to get you through to the semi-final; two tops quickly was enough to get you close.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Basically extreme running, please excuse the gurn.[/td][/tr]

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In previous World Cups, I’ve often got demoralized if I’ve thought it wasn’t going my way, and I hate to say it but I’ve sort of given up. This comp has really proved to me how important it is to keep fighting right until the last problem.

So in conclusion: lots of positives to take away, as well as lots of things to work on. Unfortunately I haven’t really got any time to train before the next competition as it’s happening next week in Innsbruck. However there’s a good chunk of time between that and Laval for me to work a bit harder on some things and see if I can eke out a little bit extra to get that little bit higher.

It was also great, and inspiring to watch Shauna take the gold in a great final which came all the way down to the last problem. Nerve-wracking for all involved, but a good moment to be a small part of.



AND!!! All of these pictures have been taken by Eddie Fowke of The Circuit. If you like getting photos and updates of the World Cup, you should like his Facebook page and even buy the magazine to support his one man mission to provide you with good photos and the insiders perspective on "The Circuit"





Source: Bon Viatge!

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Full Commit
24 June 2014, 3:48 pm



Two days of enforced rest after the British Bouldering Championships, with not much to do but enjoy this English summer - which has been kind enough to stick around, have given me a lot of time to think about writing something down about it all. This weekend was exhausting, crazy and amazing, and it’s hard to put into words how I feel about it.

I think I need to start a bit further back: just over a month a go, coming back from the two World Cups I did in May - Grindlewald and Innsbruck. I’d gone to these competitions, and I’d done ok, but I was disappointed with myself. Put simply, I knew that I had more to give; that there was another level to my climbing that just wasn’t working. And for the World Cups I think you need that extra level. The holds are just that little bit too small, and all the positions are just a little too awkward. And you need to be ready for it.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Frustrating times in Innsbruck[/td][/tr]

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The only problem was, I had no idea how to get to that extra level.

I think at some point it becomes evident that to really progress, or to really maximize your potential,  you need to have some help. It’s hard to see exactly what your own weaknesses are sometimes, and even harder to know how to improve them. You can get lost in just going to the wall every other day and doing the same things - forgetting that the end goal is not just to get really good at certain arbitrary exercises. And sometimes it’s just difficult to find the motivation to go down to the wall; to push yourself into doing some of the more horrible arbitrary exercises. You forget that however horrible they are, if you’re not prepared a competition will feel worse.

I guess I was tired of feeling a lot worse, tired of feeling like I was always underperforming. So one of the first things I did when I got back was to call an old friend Mark "Zippy" Pretty, to see if he was interested in helping me out at all. I’ve known Zippy for a long time; he used to coach me a bit when I was younger, and I’ve always credited him for why I’m not totally rubbish. If there was anyone I could respect and trust as a coach, it was Zippy.

The first session we had, we decided it would be a good idea to try to win the BBC. Shauna not being able to attend due to a World Cup clash had thrown the competition open to, well pretty much anyone, and the comp was only a week before the last World Cup in Laval - which I would also be attending - so good preparation.

One month. In that time I’ve pretty much just been putting my head down and training. It’s been hard sometimes, and there have been a few times when I’ve been tempted to just sack off a training session because it was sunny and I wanted to go outside, or because I wanted to celebrate the end of my exams. But at the end of the day I made a choice about what I wanted - and I’m glad that I stood by it.

The training I’d been doing gave me the confidence to know that I was strong enough to do the problems in the final, it gave me the ability to keep fighting even when I didn’t think I’d be able to make the next move, it gave me the mental strength necessary to forget about dropping the last move on the second problem and get on with the next two. After only a month of real training, I certainly don’t feel like I’m even that good yet - and there were definitely some mistakes in my climbing and some things to work on. However the competition did give me some confidence to go forward with.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Tara on super powerful final problem 2[/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Charlotte on problem 3, the awkward one[/td][/tr]

[/table]As much as I won a big bouldering competition this weekend, I wouldn’t like to call myself British Champion because I think it’s pretty clear who that is, and she isn’t here. More than the result though it was just great to be there; to be able to climb really cool problems in such a crazy environment, and to actually be able to get up them!

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Problem 2, I was really bummed not to top this one as it was great![/td][/tr]

[/table]It was also great to stand on the podium with Charlotte Garden and Tara Hayes, both of whom were looking pretty strong this weekend and will definitely be ones to watch out for in the future! Congratulations are also due of course to Dave Barrans for defending his title with an impressive performance, and to Matt Cousins and John Partridge (old SIBL crew!) for taking second and third.



This is not the end goal, it’s just a step. Still it’s a pretty good one to be on.



Eep, I forgot: thanks Alex Messenger and The BMC for letting me use your images!

Source: Bon Viatge!

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Why I'm supporting the Women's Climbing Symposium this year
22 July 2014, 6:03 pm



I’ve been seeing a bit more publicity recently relating to the upcoming Women’s Climbing Symposium. The first time I heard about the Women’s Climbing Symposium, I have to admit I struggled to understand why it was being organized in the first place, I didn’t really see the point. I’d never seen any difference between being a female climber and being a male climber. I mean, you have to work a little harder on getting strong maybe, and you generally tend to be a bit shorter, but other than that…

I’ve climbed obsessively since I was nine years old, and now that I think about it, a lot of that time has been spent climbing with guys. But I don’t really see it like that, because growing up in the weird and wonderful world of climbing I got used to the fact that the majority of the people who were into what I was into also happened to be men. And when I got into competitions for the first time, pushing yourself to get better and stronger often meant climbing with the boys, competing with the boys - and that is still my mindset today.

When the first Women’s Climbing Symposium was launched, I remember hearing about a talk about body image amongst female climbers. This was something I just couldn’t understand at all. I love having big arms and broad shoulders, really I do. For me, having the build of a climber means that I can do what I love - and I get a lot more joy out of that than finding a dress that fits me. So I guess I just thought that the Women’s Climbing Symposium was unnecessary, and that by drawing attention to the fact that we are Women and we are climbers it sort of defeated the point, which is that it shouldn’t really matter anyway.

But more and more, for whatever reason, I’ve realized that although gender may not matter in the little bubble that I’ve created for myself, if you have any sort of passing traffic with the outside world, you quickly begin to realize that it actually does sometimes. And I’ve come across it in so many everyday, stupid scenarios. Not wanting to burn your boyfriend or guy-friends off because you’re afraid of what they might think or say. Whenever you do a burly problem, being accused of tricking your way up it, or just being light. The common theme of problems being downgraded soon after they are climbed by a woman. The sometimes interesting commentary on some of the world cups…

And then there’s this stereotype of the big burly man hanging out on roofs and the slim technical woman teetering her way up the slabs. Some people seem to have this view that really hard strength training just isn’t for women; that steep, powerful climbing just isn’t for women. And anyone who proves otherwise is dismissed as an anomaly, or a freak. And it annoys me to think that some people are held back by this kind of out-dated mindset.

So while I won’t be going to the Women’s Climbing Symposium, because I’ve managed to reserve a chunk of free time to go away to Spain after the World Championships and do some real rock climbing. I wanted to say that I finally understand what they’re trying to do with it. And while I don’t think that the philosophy of women in climbing can be summed into a simple "Look, you can be girly AND be a badass!" I also believe that no one should be put off from realizing their ambitions, or just enjoying climbing, because they happen to be female.

More info on the day and tickets HERE

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Josune Bereziartu - an original woman crusher[/td][/tr]

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Source: Bon Viatge!

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Lucky number thirteen
25 August 2014, 1:05 pm



Last weekend in Munich I competed in my first ever World Championships. It turned out to be a weekend of a lot of firsts for me: I qualified for the semi-final in joint first with Alex Puccio, I took part in my first ever final, I even managed to keep a lid on it at the after party and not miss my flight home! If anyone had told me that this would all happen as I was sitting on the train to the airport on a quiet Wednesday morning, I wouldn’t have believed them. I still don’t really believe it; all weekend I feel that I’ve been living someone else’s life instead of my own and it’s only now that it’s even begun to sink in.

For me the past couple of weeks has been full of ups and downs, and as much as anything I was looking forward to this competition as it meant I would be able to get a break from everything for just a little bit. The moment I got off the plane and stepped into Munich airport I felt myself truly smile - another competition; straight out of reality and back into the madness. At the last World Cup in Laval I had proved to myself that I was capable of getting through to the semi-final, I hoped I could do the same again here, and anything above that was a bonus.

Out thirteenth in my group, I knew I had a pretty good chance. But I was nervous. The field was massive, and people were looking pretty strong in isolation. Well the first thing I learned this weekend is that it doesn’t matter who wins in isolation, it’s only what you do on the wall that counts, and in the qualification round I had what is undoubtably the best run on problems that I’ve ever had. All the boulders that had been set were tricky, and not all of them suited me, but I fought through them and kept trying, just like I had been doing in training, and found myself at the top of every single one. Great, I thought, probably in the semi-final then. It wasn’t until my five minute holding time was over that Shauna came up and showed me a picture of the scoreboard, with my name at the top.



If I thought I was nervous before qualification, it was nothing compared to how I felt before the semi-final. The last time I’d been in a semi-final it was my first one, I’d only just made it in, and I had nothing to lose. This time, in a round where climbers come out in reverse order of their qualification positions, I would be climbing second from last, with some of the best climbers in the world. Holy crap. But I’d had so much fun in qualification; the problems were all really interesting and the crowd was amazing, I just wanted to get out and do it all again!

Well I was not disappointed! Again the problems we faced were all really good and I found myself really engaging with them. More than anything I just wanted to get to the top hold; not because I wanted to get a good result, not because I felt like I had anything to prove, just because it was fun to solve the problem, and because matching that top hold, to the roar of the crowd, can be the most amazing feeling in the world. I only topped three out of the four semi-final problems, but that was enough. Both Shauna and I were in the final.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Flashing the last problem in the semi-final - I had NO IDEA that this meant I was in the final[/td][/tr]

[/table]I guess I’m supposed to say that I was psyched out of my little mind, that I was so so so excited, but at the time my overwhelming feeling was one of exhaustion. Through both rounds I had tried as hard as I could on every single problem, I had given it everything, and at that moment, although I WAS really excited about being in the final, a big part of me also just wanted to curl up in bed, to be able to eat something without feeling like I was going to throw up. I know that part of this is that I haven’t got the fitness of some of the girls making finals regularly, and it is going on the list of things to sort out for next year, but this time it was making the prospect of trying so hard on another four problems a daunting one.

Still I was in the final, beyond all of my wildest dreams, and whatever happened now I had still had the best competition of my life. It was great to share this experience with Shauna as well, who was so supportive and helpful throughout the whole competition - I think she was sometimes more psyched for me than I was!! Last weekend was the first time EVER that two British women have been in the same final, with any luck we can look forward to many more.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]To the final![/td][/tr]

[/table]And to make my first final here, at the World Championships in Munich, in the Olympic Stadium, in front of a gigantic crowd all cheering as loud as they possibly could for home favorites Jan Hojer and Jule Wurm… It was an incredible experience and I loved every minute of it. As someone told me during the competition: there may be many times, but there can only ever be one first time. It’s moments like this that make it all seem worthwhile; every sunny day spent in a climbing wall, every minute of suffering, everything that you have to give up - all for those four minutes where nothing exists apart from the problem in front of you.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]This is what the crowd looked like!!![/td][/tr]

[/table]Because, for me anyway, that’s what it’s all about, and the rest of it’s just show and pretty lights. I don’t really do this for the result, because at the end of the day that’s just a number and it’s a pretty hollow motivation. I do it because I love the struggle, I love the fight. In those four minutes I feel happy, I feel myself, and I feel alive. I am so lucky to have the opportunity to be a part of this crazy world, and to able to do what I love.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Contemplating the prospect of a run and jump...[/td][/tr]

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So no, I didn’t win - I didn’t even get to the top of anything in the final! But in a final where all of the other competitors were familiar faces with an impressive host of medals to their names, I felt like I was able to hold my own; I felt like I deserved to be there; and I gave it everything I could. The cold, analytical side of myself holds up all my mistakes and my weaknesses, but I would be stupid to dwell on them right now, I can accept them and try to learn from them.

A big thanks to everyone who watched and supported, massive thanks to Scarpa for providing me with some really flipping ace shoes, and of course to all the crowd-funders because this really could not have happened without you!

And now? Now I will have some time off. Now I will eat cake and I won’t go to the climbing wall unless I feel like it, because I will need to be well rested by the time autumn comes to start training for next year. It’s been an amazing weekend, an unbelievable weekend, but I do not intend this to be the end. I have really enjoyed working with Zippy over the last few months, his support and his belief in my ability has been invaluable, and I could not have made it this far without him. I am both excited and a little bit terrified at the prospect of a whole winters training. Next time I am in a final, I will be better prepared.



Photos by Eddie Fowke, of "The Circuit" fame, and Sytse van Slooten

Ps. BUY THE CIRCUIT!!! These comps just wouldn't be the same anymore without Eddie...



Source: Bon Viatge!

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Rodellar - or "What to do when things don't go to plan"
30 September 2014, 4:03 pm



This is not what I thought I would be writing about this trip. This is a long way from what I hoped that I would be able to write about this trip.

I had dreamed about going back to Rodellar ever since I first came here, just over two years ago. Finally I booked the flights early this summer, and through a long three months of going to the wall; in a tunnel of training for the World Championships, looking out of the window at the sun and sometimes envying those who were free to go to Malham, the Cornice, Raven Tor… I consoled myself with the knowledge that at the end of it all I’d be heading to Rodellar. Sun, sport climbing, tufas - what could be better? And then, not halfway through my trip, the unexpected happened: carelessness and a silly slip led to six hours at the hospital, and at the end of it all a plaster cast on my leg.

Climbing trip over. But that isn’t all I want to write about, because that is not the sum of my experiences here. So I suppose that I am writing two posts here, the one that I wanted to write, and the one that I have been forced by circumstance to write. I’ll start with what I wanted to say.

Exploring the Possible

When I first arrived in Rodellar, all I really wanted was a holiday. I’d sort of had enough of trying hard and just wanted to climb some easier routes in the sun, but in the back of my mind I knew that that wouldn’t really make me happy. Over the past few months I’ve come to embrace and almost need a constant feeling of struggle and failure in my climbing - to come out and climb things that were below my limit was attractive, but also seemed ultimately unfulfilling.

Before I’d left, a lot of people had suggested trying a climb called Welcome to Tijuana. Predictably that made me want to try it even less, but I think the real thing that put me off trying was because it was way harder the anything I’d ever done before. 8c?? That’s way too hard for me!

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]I thought the route was something like a 45 board, maybe slightly more than that...[/td][/tr]

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Then I saw someone on the route and I knew I had to try it. There was something in the pure fight required to get between these little edges on such an overhanging wall - the utter rage in every movement. So I swallowed my pride and tied on. My first try I could barely do all the moves - at the crux I would hold the next hold for a few seconds, then my feet would cut and I’d be off. But for want of a better word, I was in love - I could barely think about anything but THE ROUTE. In my head the impossible suddenly morphed into the possible, and within four sessions I could link the route together in a few overlapping sections.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Fighting with Tijuana[/td][/tr]

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But it was pretty warm and I’d cut a big slit in my finger that was now oozing orange puss rather than blood onto the crux holds. Ok, a few rest days for the skin - a party at the Kalandraka and a day out canyoneering, it’s meant to get cooler soon anyway so that’ll be perfect. Unfortunately I never made it to the canyoneering part. Missing an uneven step in the dark put an end to walking for me, let alone climbing.

Facing the Real

Suddenly the game had changed; I wasn’t on a climbing trip anymore, nor could I go for a hike up the canyon or a swim in the river, on crutches I couldn't even carry more than two things at the same time. So many of the things that had made this place a paradise for me were gone - and with the cast on my leg, escape wasn’t an option. Which presented me with a choice: I could be angry and upset, blame myself and waste my time in wishing things were different, or I could carry on as I was; enjoy the things that I could and accept the things that I couldn’t do anything about.

I know what I probably would have done not long ago, and I know that I would only have been making life more difficult for myself and everyone else. In the hospital, being wheeled around in a bed from room to room, I had accepted that my ankle was probably broken - I had prepared myself for weeks in a cast. When the language barrier was overcome by google translate, revealing only a bad sprain, I was overwhelmingly relieved - I felt like a prisoner granted a reprieve. Yes I was injured for now, and yes for a few weeks I would need to find a way to fill the void left in my life by the absence of climbing. But things happen, people get injured, people recover - and come back stronger.

[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]I managed to climb this route "Acrabita" before I busted my ankle![/td][/tr]

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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Rodellarrrrrr!!![/td][/tr]

[/table]And no, I couldn't climb any more in Rodellar, but my trip was not ruined. I still had an amazing time in a beautiful place, climbed some incredible routes and met some great people. In terms of climbing as well, I was able to experience some of what it means to "project" a route, and redefine my personal boundaries of what is hard and what is possible.

This is a special place, and I know I’ll be back.





Source: Bon Viatge!

[comPiler]

New Feeling
12 January 2015, 4:03 pm



Maybe this was a bad idea? The thought flutters around the edge of my skull. Perched on a pebble, which has somehow transmorphed itself into the widest of ledges, I assess the situation. Ground: a long way down, could jump off but it’s not so long since I was hobbling around with a busted ankle, I’m not sure it’s up to landing from such a height yet. Up: "Just a few feet of easy laybacking" - right, laybacking, how do you do that again? It’s not something you encounter very often on the campus board. Oh dear.



Somehow, without consciously making the decision, I’ve abandoned the pebble-ledge. A jolt of panic darts through me as I contemplate the prospect of a large and fairly imminent barn door, then something shifts in my head and I’ve come out on the other side of fear; a long way from the world of speech and thought, totally quiet and utterly alone.

A few stretched out seconds of shuffling later, standing safe at the break, I just want to put my face against the cliff and feel the cold of the rock and the warmth of the sun setting at my back. All the clutter thrown out of the corners of my head leaving clear, clean, white light and the feeling that I really, really need to laugh.

Five years of living in Sheffield, all this time I’ve had these edges looking down at me disapprovingly as I skulk around on boulders that time has deigned to discard on the hillsides. Years of looking back and thinking: too high, too scary, you’d have to be mad to want to do a thing like that. Only the best things, it seems, are touched with a hint of crazy.

And competitions are a madness too; a whirl of flash vision and panic and rage and euphoria, which is maybe why I like them. This is a different kind of madness; a quiet, knowing kind that crawls under your skin and begs to be far away from all the noise and clatter, cocooned within your own silence.

I didn’t expect to fall victim to this particular affliction. Until recently it’s not something I’ve had any experience with, and like anything new, had a nature so alien that I couldn’t understand how it could fit with the person I am. Last year I spent my time locked away in the climbing works, the entirety of climbing temporarily stripped to another second’s hang, one more set; a disconnected string of vowels and consonants. This is an altogether different language, and one I am unfamiliar with.



But some part of me listens, and understands, and whispers back to me that I want be out there, and up, up, up high; far away. It ignores the fears that I’ve been taught and that I’ve taught myself: I’d never be able to do anything like that - I am not good enough, brave enough, I am not that person.

Maybe, in the spirit of these retrospectives I’ve been seeing a lot of recently; if there’s one thing that last year taught me, it’s that what you think is not necessarily a true reflection of what really is. To know if you can do something or not, you kind of just need to do it.

Thanks guy vg for the pics I nicked.





Source: Bon Viatge!