Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Stam Lord

The last few weeks have been ugly, proper, frustratingly ugly... From the highs come the lows, as they say and, those bastards, they are right. You want to know the source of this painful realisation? You sure? Righto, you did ask...
I started trying to get fit. Plain and simple. After a long, cold and productive winter that contained some of my best sends on the blocs, it was time to shape up for the climbing season. Sweet. You would think after relentless crushing I would be able to casually stroll up some harder classics that I had bagged before, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you just??? Shit no... Power to burn. Check. Confidence (never a problem). Check. Time on rock. Check. Ability to saunter up 25's as a casual warm up. Incorrect. WTF? Seems that I had slightly overestimated the value of having excess power on routes that require this other thing called endurance. Douche. So, much to the merriment of my climbing partners I spent two days falling off 25's and 26's at Stapylton, then due to a little bit of man flu, thanks largely to a classroom full of sickly, snivelling kids missed a whole weekend of climbing. So, this weekend, week 3 of my campaign to become a born again Spaniard, capable of climbing 8c blindfolded and one handed (well, they all do don't they?) and I am going to get slammed again I suspect. Looks like Arapiles is the go and repeats are the goal. Bring it... Oh, and thanks in advance to whoever is belaying, because I'm sure you'll be doing your fair share. Laters.


  1. So this is what you do.
    i just thought you were some tugger who went out into the woods.
    Very cool

  2. Come on Simon! Europe´s granite --> Spanish --> MadrileƱo is waiting maaate