Travel: Michigan Ice Fest

After all the running last year, I’m kinda marathoned out. To be honest, the sight of running shoes is enough to reignite the pre-ulcers from Gu overload, and to aggravate the permanent chafe scars in places innomable (french for “heck, don’t ask”).

So I’ve run out of running… at least for 2016.

Which means: *POOF*, around 20 hours/week of running training suddenly freed up. For me at least, the training is a respite from heavy the keyboard work, a re-centering. A necessary re-alignment. Without the stringent running schedule, the early part of 2016 involved drifting around like a sports Bedouin, aimlessly wandering from discipline to discipline, trying to find my oasis. My personal golden ratio is: for every 8-10 hours of heavy, ‘thinky’ work I need at least 1 hour of running, boxing, climbing, yoga, cycling, snowboarding, whatever. I require that “whatever”. Without it, sleep is like the elusive 7-minute mile, and cue the insomnia-induced blogging, anime marathon sessions, with a steady decline into daytime zombie/night-time web-crawler-cult-scifi-reader ‘what-the-heck-are-you-doing-on-facebook-at-3am’ guy.

Nope… need to train.

So I started messaging friends, asking about fun events.

Me: “Long time, no speak, how’s the climbing going? Anything fun on the calendar?”
Miri: “Hey, what are you up to next weekend? We’re going ice-climbing.”
Me: “Isn’t that dangerous?”
Miri: “No idea, but sounds like fun, right?”
Me: “I’m in! You had me at ‘next weekend’.”

Cue: Michigan Ice Fest!

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Travel: Rock Climbing in Monterrey

It’s September, I’m sitting on a plane to Cape Town, and all I can think about is setting up my next climb in Monterrey. With the wanderlust nearly satiated (marathon season all booked), it’s strange that I can’t get climbing out of my head… I should be panicking about the next three months of “long-run (bitch+moan) Sundays”… but El Potrero Chico is really that good. In April earlier this year, I took an impromptu trip to Monterrey to get away from the dreary Chicago winter, and I’m feeling now it will have to become a tradition.

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I think that’s an appropriate response… It’s almost anticlimactic after the stories I remember hearing from other El Potrero climbers over caguamas (32 oz. beer bottles) in the local restaurant.

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