even the Mona Lisa’s falling apart

By back feels like somebody hit it with a truck. It’s not even really an injury though – I’ve always gotten these excruciating cramps through the meaty part of my back, right in the belly of my lattisimus dorsi. It feels like an exaggerated version of a cramp that could appear in some other muscle, only this one is spawned from Hell and typically posts up for half a week. So I climbed through it Saturday and paid the price Sunday… and Monday… now it’s just annoying. But there’s a second problem with my back. There’s this sharp pain that shoots down my left leg when I move in to certain positions (like sleeping, conveniently). It feels like a nerve thing because I’m not able to stretch or massage it away, or even point to a specific location that is affected. My swimming schedule is suspect. All the butterfly kick, I’m theorizing, could be to blame. My evidence is occasional, quick bursts of pain during laps in the pool, always when I’m in the middle of a flutter or butterfly kick. Had these sporadic moments of pain not presented themselves while swimming, I would have blamed bouldering – all the jumping off problems I’ve been doing this winter. Whatever the cause, the combination of these two ailments prompted me to skip swimming and climbing Sunday. Saturday, however, was epic. Justin and I got up at 7:00 to begin the day; started bouldering at Painted Cave by 8:30; I hit the pool from 1:00 to 2:00; then got together with Justin, Marcela, and Bridget for boudering at Lizard’s Mouth from 3:30 to 6:30. That’s like seven hours of boudering. It was great but my body was not psyched the next day. The decision before me now is wether to take some time off, from everything, and see if things normalize – or are these acceptable aches and pains one should expect from an increase in training volume or intensity? I haven’t decided yet.

Saturday, I did Gangster Hippie (V6) at Lizard’s Mouth, toward the end of the day, after working it for about an hour. This is pretty good for me, considering I’m not much of a boulderer lately. That problem is rad. It even looks rad.

By the way, I’ve determined the two best shows on television are Extreme Loggers and Ax Men. I’m sure a logger will punch me in the face for saying this, but I used to do timber work. Yeah, I said that: timber work. I was super psyched when I put Ax Men on at my Dad’s place last March and he walked in the room to say, "You remember doing that work?" Yes, Dad, yes I do. I hated it. But I’m proud to say now, I used to be a timber professional. Maybe all that is irrelevant today, especially in the mind of a true logger, because I work in front of a computator. Well, whatever – it’s a free country and I’ll reminisce with delirious fondness on my timber days all I want. Do yourself a favor and tune in to see what a real mustache looks like. Think your back hurts? Did your back break 37 times when a beaver attacked you with your own ax yesterday? Before you schedule your sex change, maybe you should CC someone who cares and get the fuck back to work. Those guys… they do men’s work. They are men. And they are rad.

Painted Cave

Because it’s one of the few local bouldering spots not touched by the Gap Fire, Painted Cave was my best option for a quick evening session after work yesterday. And it reminded me how far I have yet to go to be a good boulderer. I’m maybe the wussiest person I know when it comes to topping out high stuff. It’s pathetic. Heavy Traffic, or whatever the variation I got on is called, had me bailing out at the mantle. Yeah, the mantle, just like the mantle that sits on top of almost every boulder problem in the world. And because of a little height, that really wasn’t even that bad, I didn’t finish the thing. Then I bailed off the top of whatever V-jugs is accross the road. Impressive, No? Note to self: stop being a pansie. You promised Mom you wouldn’t go back to the hospital this year and that’s fine. Don’t fall. You won’t fall because it’s not hard, you’re just being a pansie.