![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Sep. 24th, 2008
dress myself up in tin plate armour
Sep. 24th, 2008 09:37 pmAchievements:
Study: About fifty pages of the Mattingly book.
Writing: Planning. Which is unglamourous, and does not feel like work.
Running: 13 minutes continuous running, 2 miles in under 20 minutes, 3 miles in 31.5 minutes, 3.5 miles in 38 minutes, 4 miles in 44.5 minutes, and a grand total of 4.25 miles in 50 minutes.
Not a bad running night, really.
Miles treadmilled since 10-09-08: 27.25
Climbing:
A very good night. Andy and Alex are a couple of really great guys who are completely generous about sharing belays and giving advice - even if they are scarily better than me.
Improved the red 6a that involves a hold-and-a-half on the roof: I'm on to the next hold up, now, and I tell you, there is something freaky about clinging to that hold with two hands while your feet dangle in mid-air, seven metres above the ground. Very fun, but freaky.
Improved the black 5+, the one that's been thwarting me for weeks: still haven't managed to get past the crux, but it'll come. I also attempted a different white 6a (let's call it #2, as distinct from the other one I've been working on), and got most of the way up the overhang, which is still only a third of the total height. And on white 6a#1, I got stuck at the same damn move I did last time, which involves smear-step-reach with really only the right hand for leverage. It's not exactly the world's best hold.
Still. I am improving. It's kind of scary how swiftly. (Note: going to the gym and climbing for a combined time in excess of three hours four days a week? Apparently scares one's body into getting very fit, very fast.)
Although a funny thing happened. Andy (a great guy, as I've said) was teaching me to lead belay again tonight: he was leading the red 6a on the roof, and had Alex spotting me on the ground. So he was on the roof, and I was doing my best to pay attention and not get him killed, when an officious-type gym staff person wandered over and demanded to know if I'd done my lead belay test.
Since I haven't, I said, no, not really (I was trying to pay attention to belaying). So the officious-type staff person, he says to me, "You know you're not supposed to do that if you haven't got your test."
I allow as how that is reasonable, and I'll get right on that. (Still trying to pay attention to not getting Andy killed dead: it's not like you can let another person take over from you halfway through belaying.)
No, he insists, it's not allowed. I'm not supposed to be doing that.
Fortunately Andy was nearly done, because the guy kept hovering and telling me I had to get my test until I'd lowered Andy down.
And I'm standing there, thinking, Man, can you wait until I've finished doing this thing I'm not supposed to be doing before you tell me I'm not supposed to be doing it? It's not like I can stop halfway and immediately let someone else take over, so why don't you stop distracting me and let me get my climber back safely on the ground?
A good dozen people who lead in that gym learned in the gym from fellow climbers, and waited a couple of months to get their tests. A couple are still leading and belaying without having taken their tests. And I understand, perfectly, that this is not good for the gym if an accident should occur -
But really, man. You don't need to contribute to the possibility of such an accident occuring by keeping at me a) after I've already acknowledged you, and b)while my climber is hanging off the roof.
*sigh*
In moderately optimistic news, my grandmother has had her operation, has woken up, and is doing, by all reports, quite well for a woman of eighty who's just had non-trivial surgery.
So I will practise optimism.
Study: About fifty pages of the Mattingly book.
Writing: Planning. Which is unglamourous, and does not feel like work.
Running: 13 minutes continuous running, 2 miles in under 20 minutes, 3 miles in 31.5 minutes, 3.5 miles in 38 minutes, 4 miles in 44.5 minutes, and a grand total of 4.25 miles in 50 minutes.
Not a bad running night, really.
Miles treadmilled since 10-09-08: 27.25
Climbing:
A very good night. Andy and Alex are a couple of really great guys who are completely generous about sharing belays and giving advice - even if they are scarily better than me.
Improved the red 6a that involves a hold-and-a-half on the roof: I'm on to the next hold up, now, and I tell you, there is something freaky about clinging to that hold with two hands while your feet dangle in mid-air, seven metres above the ground. Very fun, but freaky.
Improved the black 5+, the one that's been thwarting me for weeks: still haven't managed to get past the crux, but it'll come. I also attempted a different white 6a (let's call it #2, as distinct from the other one I've been working on), and got most of the way up the overhang, which is still only a third of the total height. And on white 6a#1, I got stuck at the same damn move I did last time, which involves smear-step-reach with really only the right hand for leverage. It's not exactly the world's best hold.
Still. I am improving. It's kind of scary how swiftly. (Note: going to the gym and climbing for a combined time in excess of three hours four days a week? Apparently scares one's body into getting very fit, very fast.)
Although a funny thing happened. Andy (a great guy, as I've said) was teaching me to lead belay again tonight: he was leading the red 6a on the roof, and had Alex spotting me on the ground. So he was on the roof, and I was doing my best to pay attention and not get him killed, when an officious-type gym staff person wandered over and demanded to know if I'd done my lead belay test.
Since I haven't, I said, no, not really (I was trying to pay attention to belaying). So the officious-type staff person, he says to me, "You know you're not supposed to do that if you haven't got your test."
I allow as how that is reasonable, and I'll get right on that. (Still trying to pay attention to not getting Andy killed dead: it's not like you can let another person take over from you halfway through belaying.)
No, he insists, it's not allowed. I'm not supposed to be doing that.
Fortunately Andy was nearly done, because the guy kept hovering and telling me I had to get my test until I'd lowered Andy down.
And I'm standing there, thinking, Man, can you wait until I've finished doing this thing I'm not supposed to be doing before you tell me I'm not supposed to be doing it? It's not like I can stop halfway and immediately let someone else take over, so why don't you stop distracting me and let me get my climber back safely on the ground?
A good dozen people who lead in that gym learned in the gym from fellow climbers, and waited a couple of months to get their tests. A couple are still leading and belaying without having taken their tests. And I understand, perfectly, that this is not good for the gym if an accident should occur -
But really, man. You don't need to contribute to the possibility of such an accident occuring by keeping at me a) after I've already acknowledged you, and b)while my climber is hanging off the roof.
*sigh*
In moderately optimistic news, my grandmother has had her operation, has woken up, and is doing, by all reports, quite well for a woman of eighty who's just had non-trivial surgery.
So I will practise optimism.
dress myself up in tin plate armour
Sep. 24th, 2008 09:37 pmAchievements:
Study: About fifty pages of the Mattingly book.
Writing: Planning. Which is unglamourous, and does not feel like work.
Running: 13 minutes continuous running, 2 miles in under 20 minutes, 3 miles in 31.5 minutes, 3.5 miles in 38 minutes, 4 miles in 44.5 minutes, and a grand total of 4.25 miles in 50 minutes.
Not a bad running night, really.
Miles treadmilled since 10-09-08: 27.25
Climbing:
A very good night. Andy and Alex are a couple of really great guys who are completely generous about sharing belays and giving advice - even if they are scarily better than me.
Improved the red 6a that involves a hold-and-a-half on the roof: I'm on to the next hold up, now, and I tell you, there is something freaky about clinging to that hold with two hands while your feet dangle in mid-air, seven metres above the ground. Very fun, but freaky.
Improved the black 5+, the one that's been thwarting me for weeks: still haven't managed to get past the crux, but it'll come. I also attempted a different white 6a (let's call it #2, as distinct from the other one I've been working on), and got most of the way up the overhang, which is still only a third of the total height. And on white 6a#1, I got stuck at the same damn move I did last time, which involves smear-step-reach with really only the right hand for leverage. It's not exactly the world's best hold.
Still. I am improving. It's kind of scary how swiftly. (Note: going to the gym and climbing for a combined time in excess of three hours four days a week? Apparently scares one's body into getting very fit, very fast.)
Although a funny thing happened. Andy (a great guy, as I've said) was teaching me to lead belay again tonight: he was leading the red 6a on the roof, and had Alex spotting me on the ground. So he was on the roof, and I was doing my best to pay attention and not get him killed, when an officious-type gym staff person wandered over and demanded to know if I'd done my lead belay test.
Since I haven't, I said, no, not really (I was trying to pay attention to belaying). So the officious-type staff person, he says to me, "You know you're not supposed to do that if you haven't got your test."
I allow as how that is reasonable, and I'll get right on that. (Still trying to pay attention to not getting Andy killed dead: it's not like you can let another person take over from you halfway through belaying.)
No, he insists, it's not allowed. I'm not supposed to be doing that.
Fortunately Andy was nearly done, because the guy kept hovering and telling me I had to get my test until I'd lowered Andy down.
And I'm standing there, thinking, Man, can you wait until I've finished doing this thing I'm not supposed to be doing before you tell me I'm not supposed to be doing it? It's not like I can stop halfway and immediately let someone else take over, so why don't you stop distracting me and let me get my climber back safely on the ground?
A good dozen people who lead in that gym learned in the gym from fellow climbers, and waited a couple of months to get their tests. A couple are still leading and belaying without having taken their tests. And I understand, perfectly, that this is not good for the gym if an accident should occur -
But really, man. You don't need to contribute to the possibility of such an accident occuring by keeping at me a) after I've already acknowledged you, and b)while my climber is hanging off the roof.
*sigh*
In moderately optimistic news, my grandmother has had her operation, has woken up, and is doing, by all reports, quite well for a woman of eighty who's just had non-trivial surgery.
So I will practise optimism.
Study: About fifty pages of the Mattingly book.
Writing: Planning. Which is unglamourous, and does not feel like work.
Running: 13 minutes continuous running, 2 miles in under 20 minutes, 3 miles in 31.5 minutes, 3.5 miles in 38 minutes, 4 miles in 44.5 minutes, and a grand total of 4.25 miles in 50 minutes.
Not a bad running night, really.
Miles treadmilled since 10-09-08: 27.25
Climbing:
A very good night. Andy and Alex are a couple of really great guys who are completely generous about sharing belays and giving advice - even if they are scarily better than me.
Improved the red 6a that involves a hold-and-a-half on the roof: I'm on to the next hold up, now, and I tell you, there is something freaky about clinging to that hold with two hands while your feet dangle in mid-air, seven metres above the ground. Very fun, but freaky.
Improved the black 5+, the one that's been thwarting me for weeks: still haven't managed to get past the crux, but it'll come. I also attempted a different white 6a (let's call it #2, as distinct from the other one I've been working on), and got most of the way up the overhang, which is still only a third of the total height. And on white 6a#1, I got stuck at the same damn move I did last time, which involves smear-step-reach with really only the right hand for leverage. It's not exactly the world's best hold.
Still. I am improving. It's kind of scary how swiftly. (Note: going to the gym and climbing for a combined time in excess of three hours four days a week? Apparently scares one's body into getting very fit, very fast.)
Although a funny thing happened. Andy (a great guy, as I've said) was teaching me to lead belay again tonight: he was leading the red 6a on the roof, and had Alex spotting me on the ground. So he was on the roof, and I was doing my best to pay attention and not get him killed, when an officious-type gym staff person wandered over and demanded to know if I'd done my lead belay test.
Since I haven't, I said, no, not really (I was trying to pay attention to belaying). So the officious-type staff person, he says to me, "You know you're not supposed to do that if you haven't got your test."
I allow as how that is reasonable, and I'll get right on that. (Still trying to pay attention to not getting Andy killed dead: it's not like you can let another person take over from you halfway through belaying.)
No, he insists, it's not allowed. I'm not supposed to be doing that.
Fortunately Andy was nearly done, because the guy kept hovering and telling me I had to get my test until I'd lowered Andy down.
And I'm standing there, thinking, Man, can you wait until I've finished doing this thing I'm not supposed to be doing before you tell me I'm not supposed to be doing it? It's not like I can stop halfway and immediately let someone else take over, so why don't you stop distracting me and let me get my climber back safely on the ground?
A good dozen people who lead in that gym learned in the gym from fellow climbers, and waited a couple of months to get their tests. A couple are still leading and belaying without having taken their tests. And I understand, perfectly, that this is not good for the gym if an accident should occur -
But really, man. You don't need to contribute to the possibility of such an accident occuring by keeping at me a) after I've already acknowledged you, and b)while my climber is hanging off the roof.
*sigh*
In moderately optimistic news, my grandmother has had her operation, has woken up, and is doing, by all reports, quite well for a woman of eighty who's just had non-trivial surgery.
So I will practise optimism.
For my own reference, climbing routes at the wall that I can do or am working on ( behind the cut. )
Since they changed the routes in the gym, my approach has changed. It used to be that I'd go in, do the two or three routes that I understood, and then work on the next.
Lately, not so much. More like, come in, throw yourself against the hardest routes that you conceivably stand a chance of getting halfway finished, and the move you can't stick? You don't get to come down, not until you've tried it at least four times.
With the new routes, getting one move higher than I did the last time is an achievement. So is getting to the same place more cleanly, and then picking a new route and applying what I've learned to getting a third, a half, two-thirds of the way up.
And if I get stuck and frustrated with a route, the solution isn't to cheat, or to keep doing the same route over and over. No. The solution is to go try another route of equal or greater - preferably greater - difficulty. And then come back, after climbing that route to the extent of my ability, and apply what I've learned, or the improvement in terms of strength or balance, to the route that succeeded in frustrating me.
And maybe I don't send too many routes. But maybe I get another move higher, another move closer to success. Maybe I tackle this route at the end of a session, when my arms are trembling-tired, and even if I can't make the move work, maybe I start to understand how I need to move in order to make it work.
And when it starts to come together - when you string three moves, four moves, five together, and it feels smooth, it feels right, your body and brain are oiled machines, powerful machines, working hand in glove -
It's like flying.
And I forget to be afraid. I'm always afraid - nervous, at least - when I climb: worried for my ankles and my elbows and my wrists, nervous, when I start to be eight or so metres up, that the fixed protection preventing me from having a sudden catastrophic Ground Impact Event will choose that moment to fail.
But when my body works, when it gets it, I forget everything but the move in front of me, everything but the puzzle of muscle and grip and gravity. And it feels like flying. A bone-deep feeling of utter rightness. Of security. I'm not really sure there are proper words to describe it.
And I could (I wish I could) do it all day.
Since they changed the routes in the gym, my approach has changed. It used to be that I'd go in, do the two or three routes that I understood, and then work on the next.
Lately, not so much. More like, come in, throw yourself against the hardest routes that you conceivably stand a chance of getting halfway finished, and the move you can't stick? You don't get to come down, not until you've tried it at least four times.
With the new routes, getting one move higher than I did the last time is an achievement. So is getting to the same place more cleanly, and then picking a new route and applying what I've learned to getting a third, a half, two-thirds of the way up.
And if I get stuck and frustrated with a route, the solution isn't to cheat, or to keep doing the same route over and over. No. The solution is to go try another route of equal or greater - preferably greater - difficulty. And then come back, after climbing that route to the extent of my ability, and apply what I've learned, or the improvement in terms of strength or balance, to the route that succeeded in frustrating me.
And maybe I don't send too many routes. But maybe I get another move higher, another move closer to success. Maybe I tackle this route at the end of a session, when my arms are trembling-tired, and even if I can't make the move work, maybe I start to understand how I need to move in order to make it work.
And when it starts to come together - when you string three moves, four moves, five together, and it feels smooth, it feels right, your body and brain are oiled machines, powerful machines, working hand in glove -
It's like flying.
And I forget to be afraid. I'm always afraid - nervous, at least - when I climb: worried for my ankles and my elbows and my wrists, nervous, when I start to be eight or so metres up, that the fixed protection preventing me from having a sudden catastrophic Ground Impact Event will choose that moment to fail.
But when my body works, when it gets it, I forget everything but the move in front of me, everything but the puzzle of muscle and grip and gravity. And it feels like flying. A bone-deep feeling of utter rightness. Of security. I'm not really sure there are proper words to describe it.
And I could (I wish I could) do it all day.
For my own reference, climbing routes at the wall that I can do or am working on ( behind the cut. )
Since they changed the routes in the gym, my approach has changed. It used to be that I'd go in, do the two or three routes that I understood, and then work on the next.
Lately, not so much. More like, come in, throw yourself against the hardest routes that you conceivably stand a chance of getting halfway finished, and the move you can't stick? You don't get to come down, not until you've tried it at least four times.
With the new routes, getting one move higher than I did the last time is an achievement. So is getting to the same place more cleanly, and then picking a new route and applying what I've learned to getting a third, a half, two-thirds of the way up.
And if I get stuck and frustrated with a route, the solution isn't to cheat, or to keep doing the same route over and over. No. The solution is to go try another route of equal or greater - preferably greater - difficulty. And then come back, after climbing that route to the extent of my ability, and apply what I've learned, or the improvement in terms of strength or balance, to the route that succeeded in frustrating me.
And maybe I don't send too many routes. But maybe I get another move higher, another move closer to success. Maybe I tackle this route at the end of a session, when my arms are trembling-tired, and even if I can't make the move work, maybe I start to understand how I need to move in order to make it work.
And when it starts to come together - when you string three moves, four moves, five together, and it feels smooth, it feels right, your body and brain are oiled machines, powerful machines, working hand in glove -
It's like flying.
And I forget to be afraid. I'm always afraid - nervous, at least - when I climb: worried for my ankles and my elbows and my wrists, nervous, when I start to be eight or so metres up, that the fixed protection preventing me from having a sudden catastrophic Ground Impact Event will choose that moment to fail.
But when my body works, when it gets it, I forget everything but the move in front of me, everything but the puzzle of muscle and grip and gravity. And it feels like flying. A bone-deep feeling of utter rightness. Of security. I'm not really sure there are proper words to describe it.
And I could (I wish I could) do it all day.
Since they changed the routes in the gym, my approach has changed. It used to be that I'd go in, do the two or three routes that I understood, and then work on the next.
Lately, not so much. More like, come in, throw yourself against the hardest routes that you conceivably stand a chance of getting halfway finished, and the move you can't stick? You don't get to come down, not until you've tried it at least four times.
With the new routes, getting one move higher than I did the last time is an achievement. So is getting to the same place more cleanly, and then picking a new route and applying what I've learned to getting a third, a half, two-thirds of the way up.
And if I get stuck and frustrated with a route, the solution isn't to cheat, or to keep doing the same route over and over. No. The solution is to go try another route of equal or greater - preferably greater - difficulty. And then come back, after climbing that route to the extent of my ability, and apply what I've learned, or the improvement in terms of strength or balance, to the route that succeeded in frustrating me.
And maybe I don't send too many routes. But maybe I get another move higher, another move closer to success. Maybe I tackle this route at the end of a session, when my arms are trembling-tired, and even if I can't make the move work, maybe I start to understand how I need to move in order to make it work.
And when it starts to come together - when you string three moves, four moves, five together, and it feels smooth, it feels right, your body and brain are oiled machines, powerful machines, working hand in glove -
It's like flying.
And I forget to be afraid. I'm always afraid - nervous, at least - when I climb: worried for my ankles and my elbows and my wrists, nervous, when I start to be eight or so metres up, that the fixed protection preventing me from having a sudden catastrophic Ground Impact Event will choose that moment to fail.
But when my body works, when it gets it, I forget everything but the move in front of me, everything but the puzzle of muscle and grip and gravity. And it feels like flying. A bone-deep feeling of utter rightness. Of security. I'm not really sure there are proper words to describe it.
And I could (I wish I could) do it all day.