rginns blog

Well, yesterday I decided I'd better actually at least try to go climbing... Last week I went to Brownstones with Big G and generally failed to climb anything of note. It was a case of testing the hand out. Things started well, with G proffering Gauffres before we even started. Genius. Actually, it wasn't too bad really, I managed various things, the usuals, Lobotomy, Hernia etc. Also the two step 5c version, Dynamic eliminate 6a and a few other bits and bobs. The hand fared pretty well, aside from being fairly painful when pushing directly on the scar as I topped out. This is likely to be my only gripe now, but I'm hoping that massaging moisturiser into it regularly will help in the long run. So, fast forward to this week. The pork life I've been indulging recently has resulted in a 3 pound gain since I last went on the Wii fit, which kindly points out is 200 days ago... However, I feel unfit to say the least. I've got the Great North Swim next week, and I realised

Today it's been 6 weeks since I sliced my hand up. Six weeks during which I thought I'd have missed climbing as much as my left arm. Apparantly not. Psyche is a strange thing. Sometimes it is hard to not be climbing, training, or doing something towards the artbitrary goal I might set myself. If it's not kept in check it can become all consuming, like it's of utmost important to latch that crimp or complete the circuit, or whatever. In the scheme of things it's ridiculous really. Then other times it just disappears, and becomes the most difficult thing to regain. Unlike most things in life, for me, climbing, and more specifically bouldering gives so much in terms of satisfaction, but it also takes just as much. Time away from home, away from family, away from other pursuits, hobbies, things that I loved to do, but got sidelined because of climbing. It's a sacrifice. Over these past 6 weeks, strangely, I've really appreciated time away from climbing. Not bein