November. I arrived in Font in just in time for the ideal perfect fall conditions which turned out to be the perfect timing for the arrival of what was to be the worst and darkest winter that has befallen northern Europe since the 1960’s. And so the story goes... I debated between waiting it out or going to the sun in Spain or even to Germany to get an early start to training for next year’s competition round. After a lot of procrastination and pro/con lists I had finally made a decision. I was going to Spain. Screw the rain and climbing alone and lets just forget about training for now. My …
thomasina pidgeon
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 …
Arco, Arco, county Wicklow…
With only two competitions left after Munich I was looking forward to some rest. My shoulders had taken a hard beating from the very start of this year and looked forward to some real rest as in, no climbing whatsoever. But that had to wait. I was bound for the world championship in paris via a short detour to Arco, Italy for the rock masters international. Note... international, not invitational. One has to actually get invited to the invitational events in Europe and to get invited, one has to place well, real well. Arco was an epic; getting there and leaving... Google maps said it was …
Munich
My spirit was in need of the type of revival that only fresh air, rock and good people could quench. The slovenians had invited us to join them in silvretta, an irresistible invite. As we drove between mountain and sky, thoughts of friends and boulders ran through my mind. Our greeting was a Spanish couple with smiles that extended from one ear to the other. They were as puzzled as i was as for knowing if we were at the right parking spot for silvretta but the near by vans littered with climbing pornography confirmed that for us. My soul felt immediately rejuvenated. i was outside facing a …
Rope comps, epics and plans gone awry.
It seems typical that as soon as the ball starts rolling, something quickly comes in front of it to stop it in its track. From the last blog post, some 3 months ago (!!) i felt i had a good rhythm going with writing and keeping on top of “work like things”. Then my computer broke, i had to leave the next day for Chamonix and I wasn't anywhere long enough to get it fixed until Munich which was two months later. Ironically, a few days after i did get it fixed, someone broke into my van and stole it! Along with my beautiful Canon which was the biggest loss of all. But gone is gone …
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 …
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 …
My first Nationals
It was never my intention to go to the Nationals. They were supposed to be in Alberta and I was supposed to be in Europe. But as life would have it, they were switched to Montreal and I was stuck in Montreal waiting for essential things like passports which arrived only a few days before the comp. It would seem like chicken behavior to escape the comp at this point but regretting not going seemed even worse. And so I went. I paid to go and compete with the intention to give my best effort and keep my focus on the climb in front of me. The after affect: self inflicted torture and suffering I …
Plastic, injuries and awkward situations
For a number of reasons it has taken me weeks, well, many extended weeks, to start this blog. First off all , telling folks about my indoor comp life as of late does not really seem that exciting as does talking about my being plagued by a badly behaving shoulder. On top of that writing about my gym climbing abilities or there of lack of seems somewhat like self sabotage which is not really a healthy habit as some wiser folks would point out. Mind you, this post is just about that. This time of year I am usually walking in the desert sun with fresh air in my face, sore finger tips and a …
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