what keeps me going

It's a sunny Saturday here in Beijing, and I have opted out of climbing at Baihe with my Chinese buddies.  I really wanted to go, but my body told me to take a break.  It has been a very exciting week at work and I haven't slept much at all.  The company that I am squatting at is having major restructuring, and every day is a new day here at Zisen. The closest thing I can compare it to is like watching the TV series 24.  What took an hour felt more like a whole day, all packed into one big episode.  I look forward to work everyday.

I slept in this morning and got up at around noon.  It felt great.  I didn't have any obligations today, no one to meet up with.  All I have to think about is what I want to eat.

When we were climbing at Baihe last week, I found out that both Gaga and Mantou are injured from climbing.  Both of them have become strong climbers over the course of a season outside, since they started as mountaineers and ice climbers before technical rock climbing.  They have climbed consistently every weekend possible.  They also climb at their limit, which is something I need to learn from them.  But one time, Gaga landed on the mat at the gym in the wrong angle and hurt her left knee.  Mantou also bouldered too hard two weeks ago at the gym and pulled one of his shoulder or arm muscles.  My instinct would be to rest and get well.  Or if I can't stop climbing, climb something REALLY REALLY easy.  Instead, they went out this weekend again.    Probably working on some hard climbs again.

They also feel like they have plateaued in their climbing level.  Coinciding with injuries, their motivation is dwindling, because they don't feeling like they are getting noticeably better.  Why is so and so sending those overhanging, slopey, 5.13 climbs and I am not???  Why don't I have a six-pack like those shirtless guys at the gym?  Why can she go up the cave so easily and I can't?  They asked me last week how I stay motivated to climb after so many years (starting in 2003!). 

If comparing yourself to others is your main motivation for climbing, then I don't think that the motivation will last long.  Unless you are like Chris Sharma or Adam Ondra, there will always be someone better than you.  It's the same in other aspects of life - your career, your relationships, your finance, etc.

Just the other day, one of my favorite bloggers posted a similar topic on his page.  It couldn't have been better timing.  Chris had just hosted his first ever conference/summit for all of his blog fans (team).  It wasn't profitable, and some marketing people had contacted him about how to make the event more profitable next time.  Here is an except from his post, which applies to pretty much anything in life:

The more important question is: what are we trying to do here? What’s the goal?
Here’s what I propose as a better standard: when you go to bed at night, are you extremely excited about what you’ve done that day and what’s coming up the next day? Do people tell you about all the awesome things they are doing, in part because of something you’ve created?

Are you making art, whether you think of yourself as an artist or not?

Whatever your dream is, are you living it?

If freedom is one of your highest values, are you experiencing enough freedom in your life?
These are some standards I prefer to use. These things are what matters. It’s not just about what works. Because sometimes, it can work… but that doesn’t mean it works.

What keeps me motivated in climbing

Sure, I love sending up hard problems and patting myself on the back.  Who doesn't like getting an ego boost once in a while?  But this is what keeps me going year after year: 

being up high somewhere 

with the ones you trust

feeling the texture of the rock

to look down and see the back of a flying bird

smell the dirt from the rope as it rubs through the belay device 

hearing the wind

licking your dry lips and wishing for more water

sharing a great meal with good friends

recapping on our experiences that day

really loving life

and everything that comes with it

I hope that you readers will find this post helpful as a boost for the day.  And that you will find passion in anything that you do, regardless of the obstacles that come across you.

Go be an artist.  
Become the baker that you always wanted to be.
Go run a food truck.

Own a climbing gym.
Go out there and make the change to get you excited about life.

Just remember, YOU are what keeps me excited about writing.

the end of the shuffleboard era

The other day I got an email from Michael about their move to JP from Somerville.  I am very sad that they are moving to the other side of the river.  I guess I can't really have much input since I'm technically on the other side of the globe. 

This is what Michael has to say, which I found entertaining -


T minus six days until the big move. If you guys haven't practiced your breathing exercises I would get started. 

That said, the bad new first. We will no longer be moving the shuffleboard table to JP. The owner of one of Boston's finest tittie parlors purchased it yesterday as a wedding gift for his friend. Yes he really did pay all $500 of the purchase price in dollar bills. I know you were all looking forward to moving this large piece of butcher block furniture, but not to fear today is trash day in Somerville, and I've collected the following items to replace the Suffleboard table. (1) a chair with three legs, (2) an old speaker from a hifi set, (3) a weight room set, (4) mystery prize (I'm actually not sure what this thing is, but if someone identifies it correctly, they can keep it.)
That said, we'll be starting at 9am Saturday (not my idea) at Sarah's place, [ ] Beacon Street, Somerville. For those taking the T, we'll have enough car seats to transport you to JP. Alternatively, if two people would like, they can ride our shinny new tandem bike to JP (note: the tandem is neither shinny, nor new, but it is a schwinn.) Lastly, for those who want to sleep in, the address of our place in JP is, [ ] Roundhill Street, the closest T stop is Jackson Square or Heath Street.

I will definitely miss that shuffleboard.  I still can't believe Sarah bought that thing on eBay by accident.
A new tandem bike?!?  I am so excited to ride on that thing when I get back to Boston!  What else do you need aside from a tandem bike?


It's wicked hot over here in Beijing.

My apartment is 27C (81F) and I am not even in direct sunlight.   Last weekend it was up in the 90s, unbearable to climb in the sun.  I tried turning on the ceiling mounted fan coil unit last night, but there was a strange burnt circuit odor.  I didn't really want to suffocate myself, so I opened the window again to get some fresh air. 

I have been wearing tank tops going shopping at the market for the last two days.  Most people wear blouses that cover their shoulders (even most climbing ladies do this), and I really stick out like a sore thumb.  Most of them will wear short shorts before wearing a tank top.  Some people wear summer dresses.  So what if my legs are all banged up from climbing?  I have no choice but to wear skirts or shorts.  I can't even fathom putting a pair of pants on right now.  Nylons?  Forget it.  I get stares from the locals, but I don't really care at this point. 

My tan from the last Indian Creek trip has also caused a lot of scolding from the Chinese. I accidentally  burnt myself on the first day climbing back in April.  Now I have a permanent racerback pattern on my back.  My arms are bronze, but my rest of my body is pasty yellow.  I got a halter top to go climbing with, in a hopeful attempt to even out the tan. 

You got dark, is one of the first comments I got from almost everyone here.
It's a real no no here in Asia.  To be sooooo dark.
These included my coworkers (male and female), my climbing buddies (still fair), and even my masseuse.

My masseuse Yang gave me a good rub down on Monday after my hard weekend climbing.  Labor is cheap compared to the US, and I have to take advantage of something while I am here.  I am not sure what methods they use to un-knot my tight back.  Whatever it is, it works.  It's almost painful, but I always get a really good night sleep after the session.  It's some kind of east meets west method.  All I can tell you is she uses some type of ruler or board to scrape my back and put pressure on my knots, then they suction cup the hell out of it.  After all that, they give you the regular massage by hand.  The first time I tried it, my back looked like it got a huge hickey from a giant catfish that took days to recover.  These days, the redness goes away the following day.

I used to not be able to have a conversation during the massage session because it was so painful.  These days, it's a bit more manageable.  Yang told me to treat my body better and stop abusing it with my reckless climbing obsession.  But then again, she loves to hear about my adventures from the weekends away, and I can tell that she is living vicariously through me.  She is working inside the shopping mall spa all day, and doesn't get to see the sun much.  They only get 5 days off per month, but they don't always know when those rest days are.  It's a hard life as a farmer's daughter and moving to the city to work. 

The market is bustling with shoppers trying to get the freshest produce.  Apricots, melons, and cherries are in season, and they are delicious.  Watermelon is also in season, but I have avoided them thanks to the exploding watermelons I heard about earlier in the season.  I made myself some leeks and bamboo shoots with soft tofu last night.  Trying to eat more healthy this time around in Beijing.

Do u miss the T?

Glen sent me this photo the other day to get me nostalgic.  Yes Glen, I do miss the T, and how few people there are in it.  Even though the trains are crappy and dirty, I still miss it.  Back to the land of pushing  and elbowing.

I'm back on the cyber world.  I had way too much fun hanging out with all of you for the last few weeks in Boston, I didn't even have time to write about it.  Then again, most of you were THERE, so there was no point in writing about it.  Big thanks for all you for being around, making me yummy food (and coffee).  I managed for four weeks in Boston without going to the grocery store. 

I spent more time at the airport in the last week than anywhere else.  I met a pilot this weekend while climbing in Baihe who told me that I am losing a lot of brain cells flying so much.  I told him it can't be worse than his drinking habits with his fellow pilots after work.  What I didn't know is that there is a lot of exposure to Galactic Cosmic Rays at higher altitudes based on the duration of the flight.  Oh well.

So you probably figured out by now, I went to Baihe this weekend, crushing with my buddies.  We went to the same crag again on Saturday, so I complained.  They told me that it was just coincidence, and that they have been to other crags while I was away in the US.  On Sunday we went to the Bee Gorge, which was a lot better and had more options (where Glen and I went climbing last time).  We also ran into some familiar faces, which was real fun.  There are two white dudes Simon and Matt that I can go trad climbing with, except that they are working as guides on the weekends :(  We'll see how it works out.

This is the year to work on my climbing mental ceiling, so that I can break the barrier that I've had for many years.   I hate falling, and it has always kept me from getting on harder routes.  I tried two 5.11 on Sunday, one on toprope and one on lead.  The TR 5.11 was a roof move, which honesty wasn't even as hard or impossible as the 5.10 we did at the Gunks the other weekend (Max, I want photos!)  At least I got up the climb.  The main problem of this climb is that if you didn't get to the third clip on lead, you would deck.  So I just TR'ed. 

One of the strongest climbers there gave me some very constructive criticisms, which I really appreciated.  He said that I didn't visualize and plan the moves enough, and that I was wasting too much energy moving around, trying blindly to find the right hold.  When you climb at your limit, you should conserve all the energy so that you can move through the crux smoothly.  I guess I know that already, but it was good to be reminded of my bad habits. 

The other 5.11 I tried was a highly technical and balanced face climb.  I was doing really well at the crux, but then when I got to the next bolt, I couldn't rebalance from a side pull to a frontal stance and clip the bolt.  I took a whipper.  Then I took another on the second try, then another, then another one.  I made a lot of grunting noises as I was trying to reposition myself for the clip, and it reverberated through the valley.  Eventually, the adrenalin kicked in so much, my left leg shook faster than Elvis and I could no longer balance myself on the key foothold.  I came down, still shaking real hard.  I don't think I've pushed myself this hard, EVER.  I know so because the crux required so much focus, that I was not worried about falling anymore.  Eventually, Daxue went up the climb to clean it, as it was near the end of the day.  He pulled the quickdraw at the crux, instead of risking taking a lead fall. 

I'm really sore this morning.  I think that is a good sign of a good weekend.  Three great weekends in a row climbing in three different places!

The weekend before was stellar.  I left for Denver early in the morning from Boston, arriving there at around 9:30AM.  I didn't sleep much on the plane, and was really exhausted.  Carlos came and picked me up from the airport.  I believe he was going to take me straight to the cliffs from the airport, but was saved by this plan when he told me that his car breaks were making weird noises and that he probably needs a new rotor.  So we had breakfast and he fixed his breaks while I took a nap.

By the time we were ready to go climbing, it was already around 3PM.  The sun wasn't going to set until 8:30PM or so, and so we picked a multi-pitch climb in Eldorado, probably the most classic 5.9 over there, called the Yellow Spur.  Since we were short on time, we linked some of the pitches together to make the 6-pitch climb into a 4.5-pitch one.  I lead the first pitch, though struggled on the first move because Carlos made me try the 5.10 variation (which I wasn't ready to do, and thought it was the 5.9 climb).  I was getting a bit frustrated by it and also somewhat embarrassed.  Then he showed me the 5.9 original start, which was a lot better :)  There was a roof move, though I think I'm well trained on it thanks to the Gunks.  Carlos lead P2 and P3, which were relatively long but straight up.  Then I lead P4, which had a fun and exposed diagonal traverse under the roof.  Carlos then did P5 and P6, which was extremely exposed and had a lot of face climbing on old pitons.  It almost reminded me of Ancient Art, though the rocks were a lot more solid.

Photo by Carlos

I know I ran through the climbs without much detail - but that's because the best part was on the descent, which involved downclimbing on lower grade rocks, gulleys, and more.  We started climbing at 4PM, and had got to the top at around 8PM.  The sun was starting to set, but there was still plenty of light, so we weren't too worried.  When we got to the top, Carlos opened his arms and wanted to give me one of those, "we did it" hugs.  While I have done that before after completing a hard pitch with Max, I never feel like I am done until I am down at the ground.  So I told him that shouldn't give him a hug until we got to the ground (but we hugged anyways).  I was a bit superstitious.

The way down looked relatively obvious at the time.  It was down a gulley at the opposite side of the rock we ascended on. Downclimbing plus three rapps.

We were racing against the sun as it sets behind the mountains.

I think we went down the wrong descent, said Carlos after about 40 minutes down.
He said that this was the descent of another route, not to worry.
So we kept going, until it was DARK.

I turned on my brand new headlamp that I acquired the week before from Rock and Snow.  It was nice and bright.  Carlos wasn't so lucky.  His headlamp was running out of juice.  I suggested that we start rapping, since I wasn't comfortable downclimbing in the dark.  He was worried that the ropes would get caught on the way down. 

Should we climb back up and try to find the correct way to descent? 
Or should we just rapp down from these unmarked trees, in hopes of finding another tree down there to rapp down? 
Wait, is the lower part getting STEEPER? 
Glad I'm rapping down instead of downclimmbing. 
What?!?  Carlos, you are still wearing your Chacos?  I am such a wuss.

We decided to rapp down from some unmarked trees, with me going down first with the brighter headlamp in  case we hit the end.  After two raps, we landed on a bigger ledge, but the bottom of the mountain was not in sight.  My headlamp was just not bright enough.

I suggested that we sleep on the ledge.  I was afraid of being stuck in the middle of a rappel and needing to climb back up if we didn't find another big tree to get down on.  Carlos did not want to stay on the ledge, since he knows how cold it would get at night even with the jackets we have.  I gave him my headlamp, and he went exploring for more big trees to rapp down on.

Two more rapps, he said, is probably all it will take to get to the ground.  But we should rapp off from THAT tree down there.  He pointed to a big tree that was about 20-30 feet down from where we were.  I was stubborn and didn't want to downclimb, so I rapped to the big tree first, then from there did two more rapps. 

He was right - after hanging over a huge roof, we hit the trail.  With about 15 ft. of rope left.

We headed back towards the trail to retrieve our bags with one headlamp.  I think it was around 11:30PM when we got down to the ground.  The descent took longer than the climb.  Such typical epic day.  Carlos called it an epiquette, since it wasn't too extreme (and we only really started at 4PM). 

Now we are done, I said.
I turned off my headlamp. 
The sky was clear and the stars filled the sky of Eldorado. 
The silhouettes of the mountains glowed along with a million stars.  
It was a perfect night.