Thomasina Pidgeon

Adventures and stories from Pebble wrestling, rope tangling, road tripping, van dwelling, nature loving, endless wandering momma.

climbing

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Advanced Movement Training for Climbers

It isn’t hard to tell a great climber from a good climber but what makes them stand out? Is it their big, burly biceps and Popeye sized forearms? Do they have a special ability to handle internal pressure and fear that allows them to move without care? Is it the efficiency with how they climb, making it seem as if they are just floating up the rock?While it would be hard to point to one specific thing that makes an excellent climber, one thing is for certain, there are movement patterns that great climbers do very well. Precise footwork and perfectly timed movement is something all athletes …

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Adventures of a route setter

About this time last year I signed a piece of paper which felt somewhat like a contract to the devil. It required things of me which I had not been accustomed for a long time, mainly scheduled work. It wasn’t the work that made me shudder but more the obligation to stay in one place for an extended period of time. The thought sent shivers down my spine; the invisible wings on my back flutter. At that point, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, but needing work and having been offered a job without asking; well, it seemed an easy solution. After all, it involved working with an amazing …

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Laval. Some first’s and some last’s…

Well this was most interesting. Unexpected and yet, surprisingly... a break through. Unexpected because the outcome wasn’t a worry in my head so the fear of it didn’t exist. And surprising, for a few reasons. Firstly, I’ll clarify, it isn’t surprising that I got last... Having been close enough to this border on numerous occasions, its occurrence is somewhat inevitable. This competition however, amazed me in a few ways. Firstly, it was the first time I felt strong in warm up. Second, it was the first time I took enough rest before a comp, which probably makes sense of point one. Third, I …

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A little story about spring

She stood on the green grass about to approach a forest which loomed with spiders, ticks and little critters that had teeth sharper than her kitchen knife. Looking deeper, the light appeared to disappear into the shadows of a thick green foliage. On her back she carried a crash pad; a piece of equipment used for the type of climbing she preferred, bouldering. It used to be part of her everyday attire but it had lain dormant on the shelf of her workplace; thrown on top of the highest shelf in a large room housed with hundreds of odd multicolored plastic holds of various sizes and shapes. It …

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Norway

  Rubber booties. A must in Norway. A 30 hour drive and a ferry ride for nine days in a land where fairies and trolls dance together between granite boulders. I was finally among the company of old friends rested between a thousand midges and the Atlantic Ocean. It was the longest I have ever driven for such a short trip but i didn't care. It had been so long since a road trip had beckoned that I couldn't resist its calling and things were falling into place to make that happen. A Toyota van had  made it into our lives and once again we found ourselves on the road …

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Innsbruck

As i sit here on the Norwegian coast with the sun constantly at my side, I think back to the innsbruck comp, which seems so long ago. It was the last comp for a while and when it was over, I asked myself: really? really thomo, why...? The feelings afterwards of ah shit, that sucked, were growing tiring. I could have shrugged my shoulders and said, oh well, that's it, gone is gone, but that is sometimes easier said than done. This comp was frustrating because it was the last one for a while and i wanted to do well and... i didn't. Every problem had a huge move which shut me down. There were …

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A taste of Slovenia

Out of all the european WC's, Slovenia was the comp I was most looking forward to. I have met different climbers from there throughout the years and because they were so cool, I just assumed their country was as well. I spouse it's never wise to assume things but the small Eastern European country didn't disappoint. The streets were littered with tasteful graffiti. The cleanliness wasn't up to par with that of the sterility of Germany which was rather refreshing.  There wasn't one bus ride where someone didn't talk to us. Obviously because of the cuteness that stood next to me but all the …

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Ketch-up

This is post is dedicated to Sandra who, one night could not sleep. In the middle of the night she decided to check out my blog. The next morning she scolded me for not having written anything about my time here in France. Alors, Sandra, cette est pour toi. XX The time between my last post seems so long ago as much as happened and yet nothing of great importance at the same time. I left Italy after Arco, went to Paris for the World Championships, went to Germany for a brief taste of the Frankenjura, saw a bit of Cresiano, embraced the American culture found scattered around Germany and …

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Van Life

When I was a teenager I slept in the basement in a small room that most would consider a cubby under the stairs. I didn’t care about the size. It was small, tight, compacted and most of all, it was my own space. I did what I wanted and played what I wanted. The walls were smothered with images of skateboarding idols and magazine clippings with hair that stood 5 inches above their brows posted far from any other household member. No one could complain and ask me what the hell do you see in that guy. And I didn’t have to respond, ‘don’t you know mom? That’s corey hart!’ Van life reminds me of …

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british times

Some stories are more interesting starting at the end. Perhaps the beginning wasn’t too exciting or in all probability the end was so recent that the memories and feelings of it are as vivid as if they had just happened and so it is easier to remember and write about. Tonight when I got home I decided to skip a few pages of the book that I have been reading, ‘Thinking body, dancing mind’. Some people have recommended it to me because of my ongoing mental problems when it comes to competitions. Skipping to the chapter on injuries, (Yes… again…) the opening quote said: “The superior man …

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The start

Apprehension and nervousness combined with an overall feeling of excitement engulfed me as I embarked on a much anticipated journey to Europe with my daughter Cedar. I have not stepped on European soil in what seems like another lifetime. A lifetime when where I slept and what I ate affected only me. Going on this trip was something that I had avoided for some time now simply because I felt unprepared and incapable of pulling off with a kid. Though the pessimistic realist in me said I was doomed for a quick flight back, the optimist fought its ground telling me a least to give it a go. The …

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