Brandi's workshop started at 10am on a Saturday morning.  It was quite a task to wake up so early as I had to follow the hubby to work first before he could drop me off at Camp5.  We were house sitting for my in laws and I didn't want the long drive home after our movie that night.

The session started with some warm up exercises just to get the joints moving and to minimise injuries.  We followed these with some stretches by hanging on jugs on the walls.  I was starting to get pumped by this stage, and I was sweating from the heat of the sun blasting through the full glass panels at the lead wall.

We went down into the boulder cave and Brandi took her through a series of exercises to gauge the level of our abilities. 

The first exercise was on a slab requiring us to traverse from left to right using only our feet and our left hand.  The right hand as allowed to palm the wall, but not use any features or holds. 

The second exercise was a repeat of the first but using our right hand instead.  The third exercise - yup, you guessed it - hands free.

I had to thank Coverboy for his extensive lessons on the importance of foot-work and balance, for I made it through this section fairly easily.

The next exercise took us to the "high ball" wall - my least favourite area in the entire gym because I'm scared of heights.  I tend to freeze when I get to three quarters of the way up, unless the holds are just bomber. 

Brandi wanted to test our ability to handle slopers so she gave us the problem in the picture above that SN is working on.

I bombed at the orange hold because I got scared.  I was pretty sure I could hold it, but fear got the better of me and I refused to let go of my right hand until my hands were so pumped I couldn't hold on any longer.  Even though I knew I could fall safely from that height (as I did when I jumped off the first time), I still couldn't overcome that stupid thought that I would rather jump down deliberately rather than allow myself to fall making a move.

Move that orange boulder one meter closer to the ground and I am almost certain I would have committed the move.  Whether I would have succeeded or not, was a different question altogether.

The fifth exercise required us to do a relatively simple boulder problem and find as many "hands free" resting points as possible.  The trick was in finding the "hands free" resting points - which is obviously a handy skill to have up your sleeve.  I think the most anyone managed to find was about 13.

Core strengthening exercises dominated the rest of the morning up until lunch.  The first of these required us to hold onto two jugs at the base of a roof.  We had to lock our arms and swing our legs up to kick two spots on the roof - first with the left leg, then with the right leg and then crossing over with each leg.  We had to repeat this twice.

Needless to say, only AR, a.k.a. the man, managed to do repeat the example that Brandi had demonstrated.  And since she succeeded quite easily, her next task was to hold her foot on each hold for a moment before letting it drop.

The rest of us were given a slightly easier task where we had to hold two jugs and extend our legs out towards a vertical wall.  For twenty seconds, we had to walk our feet around the wall.

In the picture above, S was working the second exercise, but I think you get the idea.

The group watched Brandi attentively as she demonstrated how to make the exercise harder and easier according to our body lengths.

Then we each had to take turns practicing the exercises.

After this, we broke off for lunch, where I pigged out heartily on a hotdog and waffles with ice cream.  I was a little embarassed that everyone kept noticing how much I was eating.  Perhaps I ought to have guessed by then that something in my system was up...

We came back to Camp5 feeling rather sleepy with full stomachs and digested our food as we watched a few hardcore climbing videos.

In the next session, Brandi demonstrated how to make dynamic moves and dynos.  By this time, my left arm was starting to feel a pull and I had to sit out for the rest of the session. 

SKT was nearby watching and after describing the problem with my arm, he recognised it instantly as muscle fatigue.  Much to my chagrin, rest was the only cure. 

I talked to Brandi a little after that about strain injuries, especially the elbow problems I had been getting.  It appeared to be a muscle imbalance issue and all I needed to do was work the opposing muscles on my forearms by doing wrist curls in the opposite direction.

There were more discussions at the end of the class, but I missed out because J had bought tickets for the Da Vinci Code at 6:15pm instead of 7pm.  Apparently, they went through the basics on circuit training, among other things.  I'll have to get the details from AR.

This was the group that took part in the class, with Brandi in the middle and three of us missing.

Photos are by courtesy of Anna Rinna - and once again I didn't ask for permission before stealing them.  Sorry for the abuse of friendship, Anna.

The day before Brandi’s class, I decided to do a spot of “light” climbing with C.  I hadn’t been climbing for a whole week and I didn’t want to appear too rusty the next day.

After a few top-ropes, we went over to the boulder cave.  I spotted a black boulder problem that I knew C could complete.  With a bit of spurring on, C was soon sitting at the base of the problem.  She made the first move in her first attempt after a little beta.  She was fine until she saw the dynamic move.  After some hesitation, she dropped off without trying.

“Get back on where you fell off and try the move,” I told her.

She moved slowly, but she got back on.  She shuffled around a lot before she attempted the move.  Her left hand touched the hold but the grip was not firm enough to keep her there and she fell off.  I knew at once the thoughts that had flitted through her head before she made the move.  It wasn’t a lack of ability – it was a lack of confidence. 

“Do you know why you didn’t stick?”  I asked.  C stayed silent looking at the hold.  “I bet you thought before you made the move, ‘Is she out of her mind?  It’s so far.  I’ll try anyway, but I really don’t think so.’  You didn’t think you could make it, but when you touched the hold, you were surprised, weren’t you?”

She laughed sheepishly.

“Try it again.  You’ll get it this time.”

And she did.

FA Cup finals match between Liverpool and West Ham was one of the most exciting matches I have ever seen.  Admittedly, I have only watched previous matches with one eye on the tele and the other on something else, but the excitement generated by this match was simply contagious. 

Now I understand why the hubby is so hooked on it.

I got to the gym at about 4pm on Vesak Day.  Being a public holiday, the car park at 1U was a madhouse with cars bumper to bumper as they scouted around for the smallest area capable of housing their vehicle.  You know it’s bad when you start to see cars parking illegally in non-designated parking spots.

It must have taken me about half an hour before I finally made it inside Camp5 and caught up with P, E and J.  A and J were there, too, loitering around in the top-rope section which was somewhat unusual for them.  They gave the perfect excuse about not having a rope to lead, then became somewhat chagrinned when I told them I had a rope in the car that I had just lent to AT.

There is something about climbing in the presence of many people that makes me nervous.  The last time I felt this way was when I was climbing at the Summit Gym Competition years back.  There’s a hollow in the pit of my stomach and a weakness in my limbs as I look up from the base of a route.  Anxiety clouds my mind and I feel uncertain about the routes that I know I can send.

I seem to prefer the quieter days in the gym when it’s just me, my belayer and a few friends.  Those are the days when I am not embarrassed to attempt anything because I’m not afraid to fail.  There are no eyes to judge me, but only the friendly eyes of my friends that serve to spur me on to greater heights.

Perhaps that is what is so appealing about bouldering in a group.  As each member of the group takes their turn to climb, the rest offer an intense aura of support and encouragement that envelops the climber.  That feeling of team spirit is not unlike the warm fuzzy feeling of a “feel good” movie.  You feel it regardless of whether you complete the problem or not.

Bouldering has a completely different feeling to the isolation of climbing – where you are too high to connect with anyone else.  You can rely only upon yourself as you meditate your emotions in an effort to control your own mind.

Bouldering and climbing - two disciplines as different mentally as they are physically.  Not unlike the concept of Ying and Yang.  The practice of both has a synergistic effect in augmenting your climbing abilities.  I would even venture to add that you are only half complete as a climber with one discipline under your belt and not the other.

It was another one of those days when I felt out of form.  These feelings were starting to become a habit...

As usual, I was climbing with C and though I started the session thinking I was going to take it easy, she soon goaded me into going for something more.  I found myself agreeing that it was time I would put that black top-rope in the bag.

I made it past the first crux - just.  I was almost certain that it felt easier most other times I had climbed that section but I slapped the thought away like a buzzing fly.  As I rested before the second crux, I knew it was going to be difficult.  Despite stopping to shake out the pump in my arms, I didn't really feel any better so I pressed on.

My limbs felt heavy and it was a struggle to fight the burning sensation in my forearms.  The usual thoughts of giving up were flashing across my eyes and I succumbed to the temptation and called for "tight".  When I came down later, C said she heard AN sigh so loudly from the ground level that I felt somewhat ashamed. 

I feel like an old granny recounting tales of ages past every time I refer to an incident in my climbing past.  AN was one of those inspirations who taught me a lot about climbing during my early days in the sport. 

I still remember a time when I was projecting the second pitch of route called "Monsoon".  It was my first grade 6B on lead and I had just made it past the crux.  I was tired and scared and all I could think about was bailing.  Along came AN who was descending from a route he had climbed to my right and he asked me how I was.

"I wanna bail!"  I wailed at the top of my voice.

"But you passed the crux!"  He exclaimed.

"I'm scared," I continued sobbing.

He stayed by me and coaxed me until I was ready to go on.  It was AN who first introduced MT and I to the second pitch of "Monsoon".  Back then, I had not been able to make it up despite being on top rope.  AN always had more confidence in me than I had in myself.  It's not unlike the faith C has in my abilities.  He would correct me every time I claimed something was "impossible" for me to climb.

I supposed if it had not been AN's nurturing at the start of my climbing career, I might never have climbed as far as I had done.  That being said, I guess that's why I've always been a little self-conscious when AN watches me climb.  Under those watchful eyes, I once again become the student with a need to live up to her teacher's expectations.

I am embarrassed that I have not achieved more than I have - like a star pupil who fell short of reaching the prize.  I feel that the faith in me has been sadly misplaced because I quit before reaching the summit.

When I got to the gym yesterday, I bumped into J who had just taken her first outdoor lead climbing course over the weekend.  She was still bubbling from the experience and as she shared her memories with me, she was gushing like a teenager with a crush.

Twice within the span of a fortnight, the echoes of the past resounded in my head.  Somewhere buried in the recesses of my own mind, I remembered another girl talking in this manner about her new love – climbing.  That girl had been me.

J was a little embarrassed by her own expression, but when I told her I understood what she meant, she relaxed.  I supposed it was just a climber's thing.  You don't get it unless you're a climber.

That said, it's probably not unlike being a part of the "in" click of any other sport.  For instance, my Uncle is an avid golfer who was once described by another avid golfer as "mad" because of the number of times he would play the game in a week.  He once asked me as I came back from an outdoor rock climbing session, "What's the sense of climbing up and down?"

I replied, "What's the sense of whacking a ball around?"

Our eyes locked and the unspoken message was clear.  We understood each other without having to understand the nature of the other's sport.

I believe there is a moment we all experience in any sport when the sport elevates to the next level and becomes something greater to us.  Perhaps it is best described as a moment of clarity – when something inside clicks and everything formerly unanswered falls neatly into place.  It's like seeing, for the first time, the picture of a jigsaw puzzle we have been working on for weeks.

A friend of mine aptly depicted it in his unique and articulate manner of words a few years back when we were all mad about rock climbing:

"…I like the aesthetics of a climb…  Sometimes I stumble upon new moves that are really smooth and I don't even know what they are called or whether they have names but I just love them for the grace. Or sometimes, a more experienced climber would try to explain to me what I need to do and I won't be able to do it the first few times and then suddenly, on a fifth or sixth or eighty-ninth attempt, I suddenly 'get it' and I'm no longer 'trying' and I'm just 'doing' and there is a dead calm in my head because I suddenly know what I am doing and everything makes perfect sense. The arms and legs are swinging just right, my mind is in the right place, the movement feels so natural that I find it hard to believe I have never done it before, and I feel like I am part of something beautiful. It's a natural high.

And it's not just something that's unique to climbing. I've stumbled into these moments of grace while running. I've had them swinging a squash racket. I've had them knocking around snooker balls. It's rare and fluky, but for a few minutes or seconds, or even a split second, the mind just seems to have a perfect understanding of the body and motion and gravity and the universe and everything. I know it sounds weird but that is the feeling exactly - weird. It is surreal while it lasts because I can hardly believe how neatly things are falling into place, as they rarely do in life.

I know it all sounds corny but well, I don't know how else to describe it except... it (word omitted) rocks."

Okay, I finally took the plunge.  I decided to sign up for Brandi’s “Woman Power” class.  I figured it was time to stop complaining and do something about it.

Brandi is holding two sessions.  The first one is held over two weeknights and is about understanding the way a woman climbs and using our own attributes to our advantage as opposed to trying to climb like a guy.  The second one is held over the weekend for women who want to develop more power in their climbing.

At first I wasn’t going to join either sessions because they both over lap functions I have with my in laws.  When I heard from Ayamanna that she was allowed to take a one day course, I figured I could take the weekend course and leave a little earlier to make it for my dinner appointments.

After some comments from a Camp5 staff member and watching Ayamanna bouldering, I’m starting to have second thoughts about the wisdom of signing up for the class.  Perhaps I have Ayamanna’s inferiority complex, except that hers is about her photography, while mine is about climbing.

I wonder if I’ve signed myself up for something that’s way over the top of my head…  Like an arrogant wannabe who thinks she is better than she really is.

I want more power!  I want, I want, I want!!!!!

Did that sound like a petulant child?

I went to work on my pink boulder problem again.  My left hamstring has recovered somewhat but still tweaking a little.  Even so, despite my best efforts, I haven’t been able to link up the sequences on that pink problem.  Argh!  I want more power!

JP happened to walk past us as I glared at the pink problem, crying in despair.  Thinking I couldn’t complete the last segment, he showed me a nifty knee bar move that conserved a lot more energy than the sequence I had originally coined.  It is definitely a better move and I will certainly have to link that one in the next time I attempt this problem again.

C did really well - she’s almost cleaned the green problem.  Her only problem now is making the last move which I feel is purely mental.  Had that move been a meter off the ground, I’m sure she would have nailed it.

I decided to take my mind off the pink problem and C’s mind off the green problem, so the two of us attempted some of the other boulder problems.  Strangely, my mind feels a lot more comfortable bouldering in the cave than I do on the High Ball Wall.  I froze on a relatively easy pink problem on the High Ball Wall, but inside the cave, I feel comfortable making 50-50 moves.

The only problem is that there are a lot of overhangs and roof segments inside the cave which all spell one word – power.  So we’re back to the same desire that started this post – I want more power!

Some days you have it, some days you don’t.  Even though I constantly remind C of this whenever she has an off day, it seems almost as though I have a different measuring scale when it comes to me. 

I feel an intense disappointment when I don’t climb as well as a previous session, or if I know I haven’t performed as well as I could.  At the back of my mind, I may or may not have a reason for the poor performance, but even if I do have a legitimate excuse, I am reluctant to accept it.

Whenever C reiterates my pearls of wisdom to her, I feel a little guilty as I outwardly acknowledge her but internally berate myself for a performance that is under par.  I am unwilling to allow myself the luxury of making excuses, for that is what they appear to me – excuses, not reasons.  And when I find my mind running dwelling on such thoughts, I wonder if my heart has truly let go of the desire to be more than just an average climber.

As I continue to climb with C, I have not been oblivious to the recovery of my former climbing abilities.  I have to wonder if these improvements have re-inflated my ego.  Have I lost the humility I developed when I first returned to climbing?