Like lifting weights in the woods.
confused entropy
Things can look weird when context is taken away. Forget for a moment that we’re looking at a boulderer trying really hard on a project and imagine this person is simply standing in the forest yelling at a rock to “Fugg off and die!”. Climbing’s great:
Courtesy of The World’s Angriest Boulderer.
Last weekend ushered in the inaugural Steve Edwards Memorial Hurt, aka. the Grandeur Ten. No expectation could have even partially resembled the reality of this day long scramble-athon. It was, in a word, Steve-ish. It was mad Steve-ish and it hurt all over, body and soul. My goal was to, A: not be (re)injured and, B: do it. I did do it – kinda – and am, as far as I can tell, not permanently hurt. All nervous function has not returned to my lower half so we’ll have to see but I’m confident enough to declare me not critically affected in the physical sense. In all other respects it was perfect. It was awesome to be with Steve’s closest friends as we honored Steve with our suffering. It was exactly as I imagine Steve would have wanted, organically disorganized and fraternally collaborative.
“I don’t want it if it’s that easy.”
— Tupac Shakur
Ostensibly we are to trace the Grandeur Fun Run while accessing 10 distinct cliffs. To say Steve sandbaggs us in this respect is a bit gracious. While the official Grandeur Fun Run covers ~10 miles we hike more like 14, sections of which are not “civilized” (as Steve would say). The hiking wrecks me.
Wherever the Fun Run proper is supposed to start, Steve’s vision digresses from this point. Our route starts and finishes in the Edwards backyard, technically in the hot tub but that’s been removed.
We are challenged to climb one route at each of 10 crags along the main trail. No climb should be easier than 5.10a and no single grade should be climbed more than once, meaning we will climb one of each grade between 5.10a and 5.12b. This does not happen. For me, it looks like this:
These Aussies make rad videos: Young Bloods Spearfishing. Free diving and spearfishing and surfing and shredding around the tropics are awesome activities that, oddly, rarely transfer to video in any sort of entertaining way. Watching these guys’ videos is like replaying what happens in my mind when I’m stuck at the office. The visuals at least. My mind plays different music.
The Grandeur Ten is Steve’s challenge for us. Truth be told, Steve Edwards has left me enough challenges to fill the remainder of my life. Since cancer took him away this year the vacuum he left is filling with inspired feats to honor his legacy. For those of us he affected the objective is personal, endless and simple: do rad stuff. Something like that. Steve left us one specific challenge that is communal, the Grandeur Ten. It’s something to do with hiking and climbing and it is guaranteed to wipe me out. Those are the available details. So to train for the climbing bits, I’m doing this on the Beastmaker 2000:
As of last Thursday I was going through this routine at body weight. It is pumpy, milking the small crimps and 35° slopers exclusively.
There is hiking involved in the G10 proper. That’s going to be tough. I went over my options with the surgeon a few days ago, considering I’m ~1 week officially out of the boot (may it burn in hell), and we agreed it will be interesting. I’ll be in Salt Lake City next week to give it a go.
I will try to document something great. Andree. She is uncomfortably great. I will say ‘she’ but know that traditional gender definitions do little to describe ‘her’. In fact, to experience Andree is to question your own identity.
About a decade ago I was bouldering at Pine Mountain with some folks I can’t remember when someone unremarkable whispers, “Is that Andree?”. I knew just about everyone in the small Santa Barbara climbing community so I looked up expecting either a familiar face or someone to re-file under forgettable. Rather, I was introduced to my life’s epoch. I said nothing. I think she was wearing Army fatigues and a tank top. Who knows. There was a look on her face that is to this day difficult to explain. It was not happiness. She looked mildly annoyed or a bit underwhelmed with Earth. I don’t really remember what happened after that.
Dre came over to train, of course, one-arms in my garage this evening. It was, of course, awesome. Imagine Prince strolling into your local gym to pound out several plates on the bench press. It is an awkward sensation to have someone simultaneously redefine your understanding of physical power and sensual desire. It is to experience, in a word, Andree.
Given how much regular pull-ups suck it is a bit surprising how good one-arm pull-ups feel. Babes dig ’em, they’re super fun, everybody wins. My friend Andre, who is both into babes and a babe herself, is all about one-arms. Coincidence?
One-arms and babes are a natural segue into barbells and boobs. On the complete opposite end of the awesome spectrum is cancer. I found out about BarbellsForBoobs.org shortly after my friend Steve (Stainless) Edwards was cut down in his prime. If you’re talking barbells, boobs, and punching cancer in the face, you are definitely speaking my language.
Whitney Bozzer’s story:
Some do not, to be sure, but I have basically an anatomically complete frame. And it all works fairly well (big shout out to Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital). So while my passion for beefing arms, coupled with a disdain for leg activities, serves me well at the cliff I do acknowledge the utility a complete physiology affords. I do, after all, need to transport myself to said cliff. I should do some Olympic lifts. How better to reinforce all the physiological systems from tip to toe? There are probably some equally good exercises but let’s agree that the snatch does incorporate all our stuff. Furthermore, one could argue that those of us fortunate enough to benefit from the bump in weight loss missing limbs/organs affords would benefit even more from developing a holistic craft like Olympic lifting. By the way, this is truly awesome to behold:
So there, I have no excuse. I am also encouraged knowing I have never regretted rounding out my fitness. I have also never regretted lifting weights. Anyway, it’s settled. Remaining obstacles look like this:
I look at this list as a litany of reasons to get after the Oly lifts. Truth be told, I do enjoy activities beyond hangboarding and look forward to fixing my mobility issues. Here’s the plan:
Coleman Sweeney incorporates his entire body and he’s the World’s Biggest Asshole:
I forgot how good the Jamie O’Brien YouTube videos are. If you’re the kind of person who could break a leg SUP-shredding knee-high bombs in California (e.g., me), plan to not join Jamie for a fun-filled day of shorebreak at Waimea. I am a pussy.
