By random chance I found myself on a on mountain bike. Once was all it took. Next thing I knew I was thousands in the hole and had face wounds to boot. The fall climbing season came and went and I found myself standing sideways, sliding down a mountain. Once again I felt that excitement I used to feel about climbing. It was during this season that I realized I no longer had to suffer through off-season climbing. Waking up early to get 3 pitches in before it broke 100. No more huddling in front of a propane heater. I had let this suffering burn out my spark for climbing. Between mountain biking, snowboarding, and climbing, I could be fair weather in all aspects of my life. Too cold to climb, a day in the hills is in order.
The approach is still the same as it was for climbing. Obsession. Lost in visualization. Methodical. I rode somewhere around 130-150 miles a week in the foothills and this season at Bachelor will surely surpass 1,000,000 vertical feet.
But it's not all wrecks and sends. Ive also been splitting my time between learning new programming languages. Currently the choice is Django/Python, which dominates my stack at work.
With that nerdiness aside, Im writing this to inform those of you who still have me in your RSS readers that IM BACK. Yes, thanks to bout with the norovirus Ive shed what little fat I've gained from riding chairlifts and drinking beer. Back at the cliff and at the gym I feel like I havent missed a beat. It makes me question all of the time Ive spent suffering in the gym. Was it worth it? Or is just leftovers from those days?