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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 16, 2018 7:17:21 GMT -7
Finished the Agincourt chapter last night. Generally when I'm reading before bed I run across interesting things, but I forget them by the time I get back to a computer. Maybe if I get bored enough I'll re-read my highlights when I'm at my computer.
Anyway, three specific things stand out from the last chapter:
1) He can eat whatever he wants, never goes on a diet, and is always rail thin. He says he was 10 stone when he did Agincourt, which is apparently 140 lb. Hard to say what that means without knowing his height (this sketchy sources says 5'10", which jives with what I had in my mind somehow).
2) He breaks his wrist, is in a cast for 4 months, gets the cast of and 6 weeks later climbs the 3 hardest routes* in the world in 1 week. [*debatable, but regardless, climbs 3 really hard routes].
3) He got burnt out after "7 weeks" or "17 or 18 days" working Agincourt, started to regress (on his warmup circuit at least), decides to take a break despite feeling really close to sending, and then returns to send it in "1 or 2" goes.
I think the lesson from the first two is: try to be born with amazing genes. The lesson from the last one is: when working a long term redpoint, retreating and returning is often the most efficient strategy (in terms of the number of days spent working the route; probably not true in terms of days on the calendar). The trick is knowing when to retreat and when to persevere.
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Post by Chris W on Dec 16, 2018 17:43:22 GMT -7
1) He can eat whatever he wants, never goes on a diet, and is always rail thin.
When I was that age, I could do the same thing. Part of this had to do with a high metabolism ("genetics"), but another part, I believe, had to do with malnutrition. Don't get me wrong, I ate like a horse, but I ate crappy food. My mother hated fruits, vegetables, whole grains, or anything that resembled nutritious athlete body fuel. The main ingredients she used when cooking were sugar, brown sugar, and butter. When I went off to college, I weighed around 140 (I'm close to 5'10"). When I started working in the school gym, I got access to a discount on EAS supplements, and started taking a pure whey protein supplement. That's the only thing I did different in terms of nutrition, and I packed on a whopping 10 pounds of pure muscle in just one semester. I have the photos to prove it. Do you think he had hit a point where his body needed rest and supercompensation, or was (is, for the rest of us) some other factor?
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 16, 2018 20:42:35 GMT -7
I (still) think: “The challenge is to optimize your physical ability for the moment when your technical knowledge of the route’s moves is sufficient to send. My friend Lamont Smith calls this “The Race.” Initially on a long project, your knowledge of the route, and ability to execute the moves is poor, but these increase steadily as you attempt the route more and more (eventually your rate of technical improvement slows and then stagnates, and then often reverses as resting for a presumed send takes priority over rehearsal, and you spend less and less time practicing the moves). As you learn the moves, spending more and more time on the rock, and less time in training, your physical power typically declines. Late in the campaign, as you approach technical proficiency on the route, your power may be rapidly fading. In order to “win the race”, you need to learn the moves well-enough to send before your power declines to the point that you can no longer execute them regularly. This is why I’m often willing to end a campaign when my progress stagnates—I know that when I return in the ensuing season, with tip-top power, the send will come much more easily. Obviously body weight, environmental conditions, and Power Endurance (PE) are enormous factors in The Race as well. PE generally improves throughout the campaign, improving as power fades. Environmental trends depend on how you’ve scheduled your season, and may or may not be in your control depending on other life factors. Ideally everything goes according to your plan, and your technical knowledge of the route, power and PE are optimized during a window of good weather.“ Copied from: rockclimberstrainingmanual.com/2017/02/07/training-for-9a-part-iii/
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 17, 2018 8:00:42 GMT -7
Read the Hubble chapter last night. Lots of interesting gossip, like Ben slagging off Jerry unnecessarily. Kinda provides a sense of their rivalry. They strike me more as competing siblings than friends. Anyway, I was really turned off by the author’s desperate attempt to convince the reader Hubble was the first 9a. Clearly it’s impossible to do that without slighting Gullich. And with him unable to defend himself or his ascents it’s even worse. Frankly I think it’s a really bad look for Ben, considering this is an authorized biography. It’s like he sent his schill out to make the argument for him. Admittedly I was biased in favor of Gullich from the start, and this did nothing to change my opinion. Taking the entire life story together, Ben comes off as petty, insecure, grade-grubbing, and kind of a dick. I reckon most performance climbers are all those things too (certainly myself included), but the rest of us have the good sense not to be so blatant about it
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Post by Chris W on Dec 17, 2018 11:33:28 GMT -7
Wow, tell us how you really feel!
I guess I can't disagree with your assessment of his character, though I've never met him. One thing that has struck me about climbers in his era, here and abroad, is that a lot of them were scoundrels. Shoplifting. Living "on the dole". Petty fights. Drugs. Disregard for anyone other than themselves.
Not someone I would want my kids to emulate.
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 17, 2018 18:17:23 GMT -7
Haha, now whose being harsh! A couple thoughts: 1. I think “scoundrels” is a little harsh. I guess they would describe themselves unapologetically as anti-establishment rebels who like to stick it to the Man. I never shoplifted but I certainly enjoy sticking it to the Man, even though by pretty much any objective measure i am the Man. But, I agree that it feels a little wrong, or perhaps even “cheating” to collect the Dole while making no effort to work or contribute to society in any tangible way. This is another area where the contrast with Moffat is noteworthy. Jerry admits it sheepishly and says he feels bad about it now, whereas Ben doubles down. 2. Your comment implies that you believe things have changed and today’s top climbers are in some way less scoundrel-like. LOL. Maybe they are better funded and so, less desperate. I agree that climbing has become far less counter-culture since the 80s, but I find that sad. I became a climber because I wanted to do something different, and perhaps a bit rebellious. Now everyone’s doing it and it’s going to be in the Olympics
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Post by Chris W on Dec 17, 2018 18:46:00 GMT -7
I agree that climbing has become far less counter-culture since the 80s, but I find that sad. I became a climber because I wanted to do something different, and perhaps a bit rebellious. Now everyone’s doing it and it’s going to be in the Olympics I agree in many ways. I've always been someone who wanted to do something different, which is why I started my athletic "career" as a flatwater sprint kayaker. I too am generally anti-establishment, but my sense of morals and duty would prevent me from engaging in many of the same activities. For example, I home-schooled myself (go ahead, I've heard all the home-school jokes already) from 7th grade on so I could finish my work early and either goof off or train (twice daily on the water). I would work all winter while training and use the money to travel all summer. When I was old enough to drive, I would spend the summers up in Canada (the sport was/is bigger there than in the states) living out of my truck, eating lots of peanut butter and smelling really bad (I didn't notice, but my folks and siblings all made sure I knew). I got away with a lot of stuff, but I wasn't doing things that were illegal or morally wrong, just things that were not typically socially acceptable or normal. That's a bit "dirt bag", but I never smoked, never drank (until I was 20 and spending a semester in Austria in college), never did drugs, never shoplifted, etc. I also totally overtrained and burned myself out on the sport, which is fine, because I love climbing way more than I ever loved paddling. I would love to find an example of a climber who lived a dirt bag life while still being somewhat morally respectable. I don't necessarily consider modern climbers to be that much different in this respect. They're just better funded (compared to no funding), so they're less likely to steal food. But yeah, I guess I am being too harsh now.
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Post by Chris W on Dec 18, 2018 8:33:01 GMT -7
I rechecked my notes. The things I have highlighted from the chapter are that it looks like it's the first time Ben keeps a training log and starts to be a little more deliberate with his training. It also seems like Hubble is where he hits his prime, and never really seems to move past it.
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 18, 2018 15:06:31 GMT -7
I rechecked my notes. The things I have highlighted from the chapter are that it looks like it's the first time Ben keeps a training log and starts to be a little more deliberate with his training. It also seems like Hubble is where he hits his prime, and never really seems to move past it. Ya, that’s noteable— I wrote a comment in the margin: “peaked at 24?” Of course he went on to climb harder many years later, and he did a lot as a boulderer in the interim, but compared to most of today’s top climbers, 24 seems quite young.
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Post by Chris W on Dec 18, 2018 18:08:56 GMT -7
I'm wondering if:
1) He got up to, and did, Hubble just on raw "natural" abilities 2) To progress past Hubble, he would need to train 3) He didn't really climb much harder because he didn't know how to train or didn't have the [dedication?] to train
Moffatt knew what he wanted and made it happen. Perhaps it's just the way the book was written, but Ben doesn't come across there as someone who is going to bend all his energy into making things happen.
For example, Moon tries Action Direct and blows out his finger. He gives it another go in the future, but says his finger is bugging him too much. Compare that to Jerry, who totally junked up his elbows and goes through all kinds of weird therapy and surgeries to get it fixed.
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Post by rockmoose on Dec 18, 2018 18:54:13 GMT -7
Ben and Jerry are both definitely very different characters, but I find it difficult to definitively determine the difference between their training regimens based on what we learn from Revelations and Statement.
I found Revelations infinitely more engrossing as Grimer helps Jerry to give a much more first person perspective. Sadly Ed, and his perspective, just annoyed me. I can't help but feel we have been given a somewhat incomplete version of the complexity of Mr Moon.
Prior to reading these two, I expected to dislike Jerry and his brash arrogance, and feel a kinship with Ben and his quiet introspection. Once finished, I feel much admiration for Jerry, and see Ben as a sooky public school boy.
This personal viewpoint has been totally skewed by the respective authors, and has nothing to do, I'm sure, with the two protagonists.
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 18, 2018 19:02:19 GMT -7
I apologize in advance for the following series of posts, but I want to respond to a number of different topics... I've always been someone who wanted to do something different, which is why I started my athletic "career" as a flatwater sprint kayaker. I too am generally anti-establishment, but my sense of morals and duty would prevent me from engaging in many of the same activities....I got away with a lot of stuff, but I wasn't doing things that were illegal or morally wrong, just things that were not typically socially acceptable or normal... That's a bit "dirt bag", but I never smoked, never drank (until I was 20 and spending a semester in Austria in college), never did drugs, never shoplifted, etc... I recommend reading this if you haven't already. I consider myself "chaotic good." I'm very "straight-arrow" in certain ways, and very rebellious in others. I would love to find an example of a climber who lived a dirt bag life while still being somewhat morally respectable. They exist, but they aren't generally celebrated in the climbing world. It's much more socially acceptable to be a "scoundrel," or at least it used to be.
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 18, 2018 19:22:01 GMT -7
I'm wondering if: ... he didn't know how to train or didn't have the [dedication?] to train Moffatt knew what he wanted and made it happen. Perhaps it's just the way the book was written, but Ben doesn't come across there as someone who is going to bend all his energy into making things happen. For example, Moon tries Action Direct and blows out his finger. He gives it another go in the future, but says his finger is bugging him too much. Compare that to Jerry, who totally junked up his elbows and goes through all kinds of weird therapy and surgeries to get it fixed. That's a really good point I hadn't considered. I think there's a big difference between having the dedication to train and having the resilience to rehab. I run into a lot of people who are limping through life with relatively minor afflictions, but lack the will to do anything about it. As a climber, in those days, there weren't exactly a lot of experts on climbing injuries writing books, doing podcasts, etc, so I can imagine a serious injury would be much more demoralizing than it is now (and its still very demoralizing IME). Furthermore, Ben's "training" seemed to be just climbing a lot in cellars; not very controlled, quantifiable or progressive by our tedious standards. If that is true, when he got injured its likely he didn't really know how to go about getting well.
Anyway, to your larger point, Ben does strike me as a guy who just happened to be in the right place at the right time, who lucked into the perfect sport with the perfect genes to be great. Jerry strikes me more as someone who just worked his ass off and fought like hell to be great at something he loved.
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Post by MarkAnderson on Dec 18, 2018 19:34:06 GMT -7
...I find it difficult to definitively determine the difference between their training regimens based on what we learn from Revelations and Statement. Yes, mostly because Statement doesn't provide any details other than endless hero worship by the author. At least with Jerry we know he did a ton of traversing, bouldering, traversing and bouldering, bouldering and traversing, Bachar ladders, Bachar ladders and bouldering, Bachar ladders and traversing, Bachar ladders and bouldering and traversing. Oh ya, and pull-ups. Ya know, in case you want to learn how to completely wreck your elbows, lol. I found Revelations infinitely more engrossing as Grimer helps Jerry to give a much more first person perspective. Sadly Ed, and his perspective, just annoyed me. I can't help but feel we have been given a somewhat incomplete version of the complexity of Mr Moon. Couldn't agree more. Revelations is easily my favorite climbing book, and Statement is easily my least. Prior to reading these two, I expected to dislike Jerry and his brash arrogance, and feel a kinship with Ben and his quiet introspection. Once finished, I feel much admiration for Jerry, and see Ben as a sooky public school boy. This personal viewpoint has been totally skewed by the respective authors, and has nothing to do, I'm sure, with the two protagonists.
I completely agree with the first part. I feel like my personality is more like (what I expected to be) Ben's, so I expected to relate more and sympathize more with his story. I think this is where a lack of vulnerability really hurts Statement. Revelations is far more forthcoming about the mistakes Jerry made, whether its living on the dole, shoplifting, getting injured from overtraining or failing at comps (I realize Jerry left out some failures too, but he also emphasized many). Statement is all gushing hero worship, totally one-sided. Whenever there's a failure the author admits it begrudgingly and then bends over backwards to line up excuses.
To me, Ben comes off as someone who feels slighted and is desperate to receive more "credit." I've read many of these kinds of books and I always walk away feeling admiration for the subject. Not in this case, and, ironically, its specifically because of the shameless efforts to prop him up. Its a good what-not-to-do lesson in humble-bragging.
As to your second point, I'm not as certain that our viewpoint is wrong, and I'm not yet willing to completely blame Douglas. The book is an authorized biography and if Ben approved it he either agrees with it or lacks the self-awareness to see the flaws in it. Either way I'd much rather share a portaledge with Jerry.
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Post by rockmoose on Dec 18, 2018 19:49:17 GMT -7
Aaaand, Ben can still climb to a high level, due in some part, to less training than Jerry. Jerry's body is trashed from years of overtraining. Jerry would undoubtably still be comfortably climbing at a high level if he had a formalized training/rest regime, from earlier in his career. As previously mentioned, proper nutrition would have also helped longevity, but I can think of many instances of high performance athletes having very short performance windows, followed by permanent obscurity, due to their fast food fueled lifestyle.
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