Bitterness,epiphany and Balotelli

This'll come as zero surprise to those who know me,but I really don't like young people much.I was one once,but I'm convinced I was probably a prize cunt with dubious dress sense,not unlike the hordes of garish,tight trousered,screeching no-marks who infest the pub near my gaff every Thursday night,thus disturbing my much needed beauty sleep.They seem to find it entirely impossible to converse in anything but a full-volume,high pitched babble.This is more than likely something to do with alcohol,but this is no excuse;it's merely another mark against them.It's not bad enough that they wear farcical trousers and have stupid fucking hair and are noisy...they can't even hold their drink,a cardinal sin in this part of  Lancashire.  However,the thing that really irks me is young climbers.Again,I was one once,but this isn't gonna stop my tirade.As a bitter,but hard training bloke in his mid/late thirties,it sticks in my craw to see featherweight whippersnappers effortlessly floating up hard problems,with seemingly no graft other than going down the wall and not training in any kind of structured manner whatsoever.Fair play,they get the problems done,but where's my fucking payback? I deadhang with near religious fervour,run power endurance laps,campus,stretch,diet...the list's endless.But still,no dice on my projects.I can't even look back on my youth and think "Bless em,I was just like that...",because I wasn't.Back in the day,all climbing walls were horseshit and apart from anything else,as a young climber I was also shit.I'm still distinctly average now,despite all my effort.And to top it off,I'm also cynical and unpleasant,kinda like a bouldering Charlie Brooker.Except I don't get to dick Connie Huq.
    As you might've gathered,none of my projects have come to fruition,and for a week or so I started to seriously wonder if it was all worth it.The strain,injuries and worrying obsession with wooden rungs and stopwatches,the constant nearly-but-not quite of trying to push your grade.Fortunately,I had a couple of those training sessions that actually feel like some progress is being made...and the negative,bitter bollocks that often infests my mind got steamrollered aside.This is when you gotta dig in,fight like fuck to break out of the plateau and really start getting somewhere.At the end of the day,it's utterly futile I guess,since all I want to gain from this is to get better at climbing up little rocks.But that simply isn't the point,is it? It's bouldering,and for all it's ups,downs and brick walls,I fucking love it.I stand by my fervent dislike of young,light,talented climbers who hardly train,though.If you get the chance,take a mallet to their fucking fingers.

Four days of progress,racist ducks and extreme weightlifting

It's been an odd sort of week.Following a dismal day at The Cave Of Justice and Pill Box the other Sunday,I was convinced to take some rest by two other members of the NW over-35's club.Not before time..I'd gone from 7B+ to punting around falling on my arse off Pill Box Original,all in the space of a week.Brilliant.Rest duly taken,along with some core work.Typically,one of my rest days was a nightmare day at work;four dirty big trees to prune away from an 11kv line near Rimington,home of Lancashire's only racist duck.He's called Bob,and his owner assures me he's a total bastard,and harbours a serious dislike of all black dogs.I'd seen the avian hatemonger on a previous tree job,and was glad I was 50 feet up a big old ash tree,where he couldn't get at me.I've got a fair tan,and I wouldn't put it past him to hold that against me.  Anyway...back to climbing.Partially rested,I hit Longridge for a recce of Robins' crimpy 7C,Colon Power.I got a bit distracted by watching Andy F's wack old man sequence on Grow Wings SS.He got up it though,but I think sneaking up stuff instead of powering is missing the point,largely because I can't fathom how his method works.Luckily I boshed it first go with my basic thug beta.Put that in yer pipe and smoke it,footwork.The old man's going ok to be fair,though;he cruised across Left Wall Traverse at The Cave the other Sunday.Ben "Snaps" Freeman rolled up too,and proceeded to casually waltz up everything he got on.Some serious ginger power there.He gave me the goods about Colon Power,and I'll be back for that one.

First things first

I've been meaning to do this blog lark for a while now,but computers unnerve me.I can't really type,and I'm lazy. Luckily I have acquaintances who live firmly in the 21st century to help me with such things as setting up  computerised stuff.Thus,here we are...frankly it scares me that I live in a world where I can inflict my thoughts on the masses,should they choose to read this drivel,but fuck it. I subscribe firmly to the adage that everyone's entitled to my opinion,and that's where I hope this blog's gonna go. Bouldering,training,failure,boredom,the occasional hard send,existential woe,techno,house,booze and above all,living for the craic.Welcome aboard,kids.It's likely to get messy.