Post by MarkAnderson on Feb 1, 2016 11:18:13 GMT -7
On Friday I planned to go climbing in Clear Creek, to put in some more work on a new project. As usual, I started my climbing day by warming up in the Lazy H. By now I have a set warm-up routine that rarely varies. It starts with about 15 minutes of ARCing, following a pre-set route that circumnavigates the barn and covers every possible angle and hold type. After the circuit is complete, I do a series of six boulder problems, building up from V2 to V8. For the past six years or so, I've been doing this warm-up for every indoor Power or PE session and the vast majority of local outdoor sessions. I reckon I've done each of the boulder problems in this circuit a good 300 times.
Friday's warm-up was no different, except that it was unseasonably warm, so I left the barn door open to enjoy the late January sunshine. The last move of the last boulder problem--the last move of my warm-up--is a big throw to a jutting fin in the horizontal-ish ceiling of the barn. I hit that hold with my left hand, like I had 300-or-so times before, brought my right foot up to the highest hold on the 35-deg-overhanging wall, and began moving my right hand up to match the fin. Suddenly my foot suddenly slipped-off, and I began to swing out. Experience has taught me that, most of the time, it's best not to be a hero--if things aren't going right, just let go, dust off, and try again. So after an instant of deliberation, I chose to let go.
Unfortunately that "instant" kept my left hand attached to the ceiling long enough to turn my body into a pendulum. By the time I let go, my body was rotating towards the horizontal, plus now I had a good deal of momentum to eject my body "backwards". This sort of thing happens from time to time. I try to latch a hold in the ceiling, sorta stick it for a while, but then come off, swinging wildly. The barn is basically a long, wide corridor, so when that happens, usually some part of my swinging carcass contacts the 8-degree wall and kills my swing. There is a slight chance I could catch a foot or something on the 8-degree wall while falling down, but most of the holds on that wall are relatively low-profile, and so far, that has never happened (knock on wood!).
Anyway, remember that seemingly irrelevant detail about leaving the barn door open? It just so happens that this boulder problem is perfectly aligned with that open door such that there was nothing for my swinging corpse to contact. Instead I flew completely out the door, rotating towards horizontal, as I descended. As I flew face-first towards the ground, I had a chance to examine my landing zone for what seemed like quite a long time. Long enough to notice how far away all those expensive crash pads were, to notice all the gravel I cleverly placed outside the door to cover the soft mud, to notice the free-weights scattered about, and the 90-degree edge of the plywood floor, aligned perfectly with my gaping mouth.
The next thing I recall, I was laying face-down in the dirt, my body from the neck down entirely out of the barn. There was pain. I laid still for a few breathes, than I used my left arm and leg to drag myself inside. I laid on the pads for about a minute, catching my breath and assessing my injuries. My face seemed fine, but my right forearm was burning, and there was a sharp pain in my right ankle. The ankle was slightly sprained, hyperflexed from landing in the dirt "toe-up", but I could still move it despite the pain, and I didn't seem to have any functional limitations. Apparently my forearm took the brunt of my weight, protecting my face and head by contacting the edge of the floor (the end of a sheet of OSB plywood with a 2x4 directly below) about 1.5" above the medial epicondyle. There was a deep, linear divot in the skin, surrounded by a quarter-sized abrasion, and intense, dull pain at the base of my forearm muscle. Higher up the forearm I hit a pair of 5-lb plates, but other than a mild bruise that area seemed fine.
I was supposed to meet Kate at the crag, so I needed to get going or at least let her know I would be late or absent. With my entire right forearm tingling and throbbing, I gingerly stood up and hobbled to the wall to see if I could still climb. At this point I figured my forearm would be fine once the pain subsided, but I didn't know if I could stand on small edges with my bum ankle. I was able to do a few simple moves on the vert wall, so I gathered my gear, hobbled out to the car, and headed to Clear Creek. The pain in my forearm slowly subsided, but I had the feeling of an intense pump, and whenever I squeezed my right hand the deep dull pain returned. After meeting Kate I shared my tale of woe as we hiked out to my project. I began roping up, still debating the wisdom of my actions. I tested my grip at ground-level, contemplating the relative tensile strength of an intensely-tenderized sirloin steak. Deciding there really wasn't any upside to proceeding, we packed it in for the day.
By that night my ankle was swollen, stiff, and aching, but my forearm was feeling a lot better. Saturday morning I could barely walk, but by Sunday I could walk fine on flat surfaces, and I expect it to be good enough for roped climbing by the time the current snow storm clears. I tried a hangboard workout since I wanted to test the forearm in a controlled manner, without risking any falls on my ankle. The HB workout went flawlessly, and I even managed to set a PR on my Semi-Closed Crimp. Based on testing my fingers individually, it would seem the ring finger flexors/tendons took the brunt of the impact--by Friday night I could pull 100% on my IM fingers with no pain, but pulling with the R finger still caused pain. My MR strength was ~10-lb worse than other grips during the HB workout, and that was the only grip that caused noticeable pain in the forearm, so I intend to take it easy on the R finger for a while, but I'm extremely relieved that my forearm isn't worse off.
All told, I think it could have been much worse. In almost 8 years of bouldering in the Lazy H, that is by far the worst fall/injury I've had. Had my forearm hit 1.5" lower, on the medial epicondyle, I may have broken my arm. Even though I narrowly escaped serious injury, I think there are some good lessons here. Boulder with the barn door closed is probably a good one--I made the move to campusing with the door closed several years ago after a few close calls on the edge of the floor. Pay attention while warming-up is probably another, along with be prepared to fall even when you don't expect to (that means, be sure the landing surface is clear form hazards, and focus on what you are doing even if its easy). I still think don't be a hero is good advice most of the time. At the moment my foot popped, my right hand was leaving an MR undercling pocket. Perhaps I could have squeezed like hell on the 2-finger to kill my swing. Perhaps, had I done that, I would have landed normally. Perhaps, had I done that, I would now be writing about yet another A2 pulley strain/tear. There will always be exceptions to don't be a hero, but there won't be enough time, in the moment, to carefully weigh the options. Maybe it would help to make that decision before you start if you think it might make sense to deviate from that maxim. Perhaps my mistake was holding on too long before letting go.
I'm curious what would have happened if I had tried to pull hard with my right hand on Friday. My theory is that my muscle and/or connective tissue was probably somewhat weakened--perhaps significantly weakened--and may have torn more easily in that state. However, it also felt like my forearm's proprioceptors were preventing me from flexing anywhere close to maximally. The problem with "caution is the better part of valor", is that we never find out if our caution was prudent or not. You always find out when you aren't cautious enough though. It's probably worth it to unnecessarily quit early 10 times for every one time it is necessary.
TL;DR: I hurt my forearm in a weird way, but it feels better now
Friday's warm-up was no different, except that it was unseasonably warm, so I left the barn door open to enjoy the late January sunshine. The last move of the last boulder problem--the last move of my warm-up--is a big throw to a jutting fin in the horizontal-ish ceiling of the barn. I hit that hold with my left hand, like I had 300-or-so times before, brought my right foot up to the highest hold on the 35-deg-overhanging wall, and began moving my right hand up to match the fin. Suddenly my foot suddenly slipped-off, and I began to swing out. Experience has taught me that, most of the time, it's best not to be a hero--if things aren't going right, just let go, dust off, and try again. So after an instant of deliberation, I chose to let go.
Unfortunately that "instant" kept my left hand attached to the ceiling long enough to turn my body into a pendulum. By the time I let go, my body was rotating towards the horizontal, plus now I had a good deal of momentum to eject my body "backwards". This sort of thing happens from time to time. I try to latch a hold in the ceiling, sorta stick it for a while, but then come off, swinging wildly. The barn is basically a long, wide corridor, so when that happens, usually some part of my swinging carcass contacts the 8-degree wall and kills my swing. There is a slight chance I could catch a foot or something on the 8-degree wall while falling down, but most of the holds on that wall are relatively low-profile, and so far, that has never happened (knock on wood!).
Anyway, remember that seemingly irrelevant detail about leaving the barn door open? It just so happens that this boulder problem is perfectly aligned with that open door such that there was nothing for my swinging corpse to contact. Instead I flew completely out the door, rotating towards horizontal, as I descended. As I flew face-first towards the ground, I had a chance to examine my landing zone for what seemed like quite a long time. Long enough to notice how far away all those expensive crash pads were, to notice all the gravel I cleverly placed outside the door to cover the soft mud, to notice the free-weights scattered about, and the 90-degree edge of the plywood floor, aligned perfectly with my gaping mouth.
The next thing I recall, I was laying face-down in the dirt, my body from the neck down entirely out of the barn. There was pain. I laid still for a few breathes, than I used my left arm and leg to drag myself inside. I laid on the pads for about a minute, catching my breath and assessing my injuries. My face seemed fine, but my right forearm was burning, and there was a sharp pain in my right ankle. The ankle was slightly sprained, hyperflexed from landing in the dirt "toe-up", but I could still move it despite the pain, and I didn't seem to have any functional limitations. Apparently my forearm took the brunt of my weight, protecting my face and head by contacting the edge of the floor (the end of a sheet of OSB plywood with a 2x4 directly below) about 1.5" above the medial epicondyle. There was a deep, linear divot in the skin, surrounded by a quarter-sized abrasion, and intense, dull pain at the base of my forearm muscle. Higher up the forearm I hit a pair of 5-lb plates, but other than a mild bruise that area seemed fine.
I was supposed to meet Kate at the crag, so I needed to get going or at least let her know I would be late or absent. With my entire right forearm tingling and throbbing, I gingerly stood up and hobbled to the wall to see if I could still climb. At this point I figured my forearm would be fine once the pain subsided, but I didn't know if I could stand on small edges with my bum ankle. I was able to do a few simple moves on the vert wall, so I gathered my gear, hobbled out to the car, and headed to Clear Creek. The pain in my forearm slowly subsided, but I had the feeling of an intense pump, and whenever I squeezed my right hand the deep dull pain returned. After meeting Kate I shared my tale of woe as we hiked out to my project. I began roping up, still debating the wisdom of my actions. I tested my grip at ground-level, contemplating the relative tensile strength of an intensely-tenderized sirloin steak. Deciding there really wasn't any upside to proceeding, we packed it in for the day.
By that night my ankle was swollen, stiff, and aching, but my forearm was feeling a lot better. Saturday morning I could barely walk, but by Sunday I could walk fine on flat surfaces, and I expect it to be good enough for roped climbing by the time the current snow storm clears. I tried a hangboard workout since I wanted to test the forearm in a controlled manner, without risking any falls on my ankle. The HB workout went flawlessly, and I even managed to set a PR on my Semi-Closed Crimp. Based on testing my fingers individually, it would seem the ring finger flexors/tendons took the brunt of the impact--by Friday night I could pull 100% on my IM fingers with no pain, but pulling with the R finger still caused pain. My MR strength was ~10-lb worse than other grips during the HB workout, and that was the only grip that caused noticeable pain in the forearm, so I intend to take it easy on the R finger for a while, but I'm extremely relieved that my forearm isn't worse off.
All told, I think it could have been much worse. In almost 8 years of bouldering in the Lazy H, that is by far the worst fall/injury I've had. Had my forearm hit 1.5" lower, on the medial epicondyle, I may have broken my arm. Even though I narrowly escaped serious injury, I think there are some good lessons here. Boulder with the barn door closed is probably a good one--I made the move to campusing with the door closed several years ago after a few close calls on the edge of the floor. Pay attention while warming-up is probably another, along with be prepared to fall even when you don't expect to (that means, be sure the landing surface is clear form hazards, and focus on what you are doing even if its easy). I still think don't be a hero is good advice most of the time. At the moment my foot popped, my right hand was leaving an MR undercling pocket. Perhaps I could have squeezed like hell on the 2-finger to kill my swing. Perhaps, had I done that, I would have landed normally. Perhaps, had I done that, I would now be writing about yet another A2 pulley strain/tear. There will always be exceptions to don't be a hero, but there won't be enough time, in the moment, to carefully weigh the options. Maybe it would help to make that decision before you start if you think it might make sense to deviate from that maxim. Perhaps my mistake was holding on too long before letting go.
I'm curious what would have happened if I had tried to pull hard with my right hand on Friday. My theory is that my muscle and/or connective tissue was probably somewhat weakened--perhaps significantly weakened--and may have torn more easily in that state. However, it also felt like my forearm's proprioceptors were preventing me from flexing anywhere close to maximally. The problem with "caution is the better part of valor", is that we never find out if our caution was prudent or not. You always find out when you aren't cautious enough though. It's probably worth it to unnecessarily quit early 10 times for every one time it is necessary.
TL;DR: I hurt my forearm in a weird way, but it feels better now
