Strength Villain

I recently had the honor of hanging out with the Strength Villain crew, sharing a love of training and tattoos. They are "subject matter experts" on powerbuilding. Powerbuilding, a mix of power lifting and body building, is a program to perform and look like you actually train. Through cigar smoke and Lil' Wayne, I learned our underlying similarities vastly outweigh the surface differences. Here are a couple of training and life lessons:

Bring both heart and head to what you do.
Pick the right goals and walk your path towards them.
Help as many people as possible along the way.
Realize the power and limitations of the digital medium.
Value your crew and community.

Limiter Driven Training

My training philosophy is "limiter driven improvement." I constantly seek out my current climbing limiters and design drills and progressions to improve them. The easiest way to find a limiter is ask, "Why did I fall?" I ask that question not just when I fall off a limit-level climb. If I fall off a warm-up, that is an equally valid data point. Maybe I'm rushing my warm-up and that lack of "being in the moment" is limiting my climbing. This fundamental deposition towards limiter driven improvement makes climbing intrinsically motivating. My primary focus is increasing climbing competence, sending more and harder climbs is a welcomed by-product.

I collect personal climbing limiters and design my next training session or cycle around improving them. Currently, one of my biggest limiters is not pushing enough with my feet when I'm pumped. I don't automatically jump to "I need to be stronger" to improve this limiter. Limiters could be technical, mental, or psychical. I approach this limiter from technical and mental perspectives. I have a deposition towards over-powering moves at my limits. I need to readjust this strategy towards finding technical solutions. Mentally, I like being in control. When I'm pumped I'm start to lose control. I try to regain control through my strength. I'm working on being okay with losing control.

By using this method, my climbing is still improving. My gains are not in leaps and bounds but a little each time I climb. That improvement keeps me engaged with climbing even after 10+ consistent years.

Saturday Syke

A new vision to push climb forward can be found anywhere.

The trouble with the thumb

James at CATS Climbing has an interesting take on grip positions. I agree with most of his conjectures. However, there is room for subtly in this statement - "There is no advantage to climbing without the thumb pinching the bottom of the hold (Grip B)"

If you are climbing in a performance-orientated environment, then there is a role for Grip B. On the other hand, if your inside climbing is training targeted towards outside performance, there is less need for Grip B. It is uncommon to pinch the bottom of edge holds outside. I would advocate spending a portion of training time on thumbless climbing. Yes, it is contrived. Yes, you can't climb as hard. But it transfers better to outside climbing than the the ubiquitous pinch grip found in indoor climbing.

Lastly, I simply don't understand the statement - "None of this applies to route climbers."

Pretty should be the new strong

People say interesting things when someone is post-crux on the send go of their project. There are shouts of French (Allez!) and Spanish (Venga!), when neither person speaks enough of the language to get out of de Gaulle or Barajas. From my experience, the shout of "Strong" is on the rise. Yes, the a post-crux climber is fatigued and needs to keep it together to get to the top. However, the climber needs more than strength at that point. The climber needs to climb well. The best term for this concept is pretty climbing (handsome, if your uncomfortable with pretty). "Pretty" needs to the new "Strong."

The next time you see me post-crux, please remind to me to climb "Pretty."

Debate Through Movement

I hear climbers at the gym and crag having in-depth theoretical discussions about the path of least resistance up a particular climb. Climber #1 proposes a complex undercling-pogo-drive-by sequence. Climber #2 proposes a simple, but elegant, jump move. Their discussion lacks context since neither climber has touched the problem. There is nothing wrong with generating multiple sequences for a solid flash attempt. However, these conversations frequently last longer than it would take to try every permutation of climb.

Shut-up & Climb!

Humans have the magical gift of language. There are times when that gift doesn't serve us. Much of climbing is implicit and can only be learned through direct experience. Words can inhibit this procedural learning. For example, the moment you try to describe riding a bicycle you fall off.

Settle movement debates through movement.

Beyond The Mohs Scale

I have stumbled upon another batch of my favorite type of rock - river-polished granite. So perfect but so slick. Boulder after boulder of wavy, bullet-hard goodness. The rock in this particular area has least amount of friction I have ever encountered. It feels slicker than glass. I lack the vocabulary to adequately describe it to other interested parties.

Mohs scale of mineral hardness is convenient shorthand for geologists to talk each other. Climbers need a similar scale for rock friction. I propose additional systems of letters to describe friction (or lack thereof). The rock described above would be type "A." Yosemite granite would be type "C." Southern sandstone would be type "F". Limestone with little spikes (name?) would be type "M."