The Gumby Chronicles Part 2

On December 29th, 2016, I underwent surgery on my right ankle as a result of an injury sustained during a 50K trail race in the winter of 2015. It was following the original injury that I decided I wanted to become a climber.  In the spring of 2016, the podiatrist gave me the option of either getting a cortisone shot or the surgery. Because I had a race a few weeks later, I took the shot. It helped but by the fall of 2016, I was living in Gimp City. 

Once I announced the date of my surgery and rehab time, things on the job went quickly south. Mistakes that I had made a year earlier were brought to my attention. I "socialized" too much as well. My main fault I believe was that I had made the mistake of growing old. This, despite my being in better shape than all but 1-2 people in the entire office. So, I was laid off with a couple of months pay to take care of my rehab. 

According to the podiatrist, the surgery went well. I spent the first few days on the sofa and used crutches to get around. Taking a shower with plastic bags around my foot made for an interesting experience. Still by the end of the first week, I was doing pull-ups in my garage and by the second week, I was lifting weights at the gym.

Maybe not so surprisingly, the difficult part of my rehab was the mental and emotional depression I've experienced. Being inactive and not having a definitive date when I could climb or run again was difficult to deal with. In my immediate family, only one son in-law climbed and his response was disappointment over not being able to climb together. Understandable. It's my belief that while having a partner that you can trust and believe in is the most important factor in climbing, the actual climbing is a solo endeavor no matter who is belaying.

So my conclusion, after meditating some time over this, was that my rehab is a solo climb and although people who have gone through this can give me their "beta" on the recovery process, it's up to me to figure out the moves that will take me back to the rope. 

And yes, I will comeback. More to come……………………………………………………

The Gumby Chronicles

THE GUMBY CHRONICLES PART 1

By

John Matney

It was only a few years ago that I discovered that I have a classic case of ADHD. All the symptoms listed on webmd.com were clear to me. From being easily distracted, to not listening to others, obsessing over a new hobby or interest to the exclusion of everything else and the ever popular compulsive behavior which has resulted in my being fired from a job or  getting traffic tickets for sudden changes in direction. Let me briefly describe my current obsession. Climbing.

After a lifetime of being a competitive runner, my ankles and knees suggested I try another sport. A week after my 60^th birthday, I went to a climbing gym with my son in-law. At the counter was a 20 something guy, thin to the point of looking like Ric Ocasek of the Cars band with really long black hair tied in a pony tail. “Hey, it’s cool you’re taking your Dad climbing with you” he said to my son in-law. I imagined what his comb over would look like in 20 years and smiled. “It was my idea,” I said.

Diablo Rock is the local gym where I go and is managed by the great climber Hans Florin. His name was familiar to me because when I would get together with my cousin Dave Altman, a noted Bay Area climber, the names would roll off his tongue-Ray Jardine, Ron Kauk and Hans. It was a subliminal education.   

All climbing gyms seem to have the same smell. It’s a combination of climbing chalk, sweaty clothes and the young. In American shopping malls, it’s the fat people that are in the majority so the sights and smells I associate with that are deep fried food and sugar being consumed by people stuffed into too small clothes as they spend a happy day in the pursuit of mindless consumption. In a climbing gym, it’s the opposite, the parents are watching their hyperactive kids or in rare cases, belaying their energetic 8 year olds up a 5.5 wall. Fit High school and college ages men and women climb or boulder with smiles on their faces.

At the time of this writing, I am celebrating my one year anniversary as a Gumby. Taking stock of my year, I wonder what’s happened in the last 12 months?

In the past year, I’ve bought 7 pairs of climbing shoes, hoping to find that perfect pair that doesn’t feel like a vise is clamped on my foot and allows me to use the footholds on an overhanging boulder problem. So far, no such thing as a perfect pair of climbing shoes exists, at least for me. I have plenty of climbing tee shirts and pants. My thick overpriced cotton climbing shorts are my favorite attire. I ’ve bought a type of shoe that I have never heard of called “approach shoes.” Those and flip flops are the non-climbing footwear of choice. I wear my approach shoes and Patagonia climbing pants to work without irony and flip flops everywhere else.   

I’ve also discovered that there are similarities between competitive running and climbing. First, as in high level running, I am competing against myself and seeking to find the limits of my potential. Second, climbers rival competitive runners in their ability to suffer for long periods of time. Just as I learned to keep up a good pace when everything in my head is telling me to stop, I am learning to hang on (literally) when all of my senses and my brain say it’s easier to just let go. In track and cross country races, I would always know that the “voice” would appear, telling me “it’s okay, treat the race as a training run, slow down and take it easy.” The “voice” has reappeared when I am trying a project that is beyond what I think is the limits of my ability. Fingers screaming, arms throbbing inevitably lead to the voice’s reappearance. I feel triumphant when I can tell the voice to shut the hell up and keep going. When I look at the other climbers, I think it’s a safe assumption that they’ve gone through this rite of passage.   

As the months passed, my obsession with climbing got more intense. I was watching climbing videos on youtube. Chris Sharma, Hans of course, Akiyo Noguchi and the young phenom, Ashima Shiraishi, a 14 year old who climbs routes few others can while blowing bubble gum bubbles and giggling. I also discover the so called underground writing scene. Brenden Leonard, Luke Mehall and the other denizens of the climbing zine. For “fun” on road trips for work, I listen to Chris Koulous’ Enormocasts in the car. Yes-I have ADHD and focusing on climbing is easy, the hard part is not ignoring other important parts of my life, like work and chores around the house.

I’ve made friends, both in person and the on-line variety through our shared love of climbing. It’s been amazing to me that people like Hans Florine, Kathy Karlo, Luke Mehall and Leslie Kim and many others have responded to my emails and questions. Climbing is really almost as big a community as it is a sport. Still, I would have to say, my partnership with my son in-law, Rick Smith has been the most satisfying. He too, has caught the climbing bug. So much so, that when I suggested we build a climbing wall in his garage, he didn’t hesitate for a second. The photo on my profile is the first phase of what we call “Smith Wall.”

Another change was that the occasional acknowledgement of my efforts by one of the accomplishments would have me beaming for days. Unless Hans is in the gym, I am at least 25 years older than any of the other climbers. About 4 months into my Gumby year, my son in-law and I did a top roped 5.10b that had an overhang. We finished it and were standing around when one of the uber climbers-shorts, no shirt, long Fabio like hair comes up to us and says-“hey, I was watching you guys and your footwork was really good.”  Man, I floated out of the gym that night. Silly when you think about it. But, climbers helping other climbers is an integral part of the climbing spirit.

As the year progressed and I learned more about the sport, I wanted to take it outside. I discovered some boulders in the town of Vacaville near my home. My son in-law and I went out there with a guidebook. Imagine that-“real rock!” What a joy it was to traverse and work on the basalt rocks. So far I’ve been there 5 times, 3 with him, twice by myself. Each time, I soaked in the views and the solitude. Climbing without background music was sublime. Which, I suppose  is the “old guy” in me.

Then I went to a small crag in Berkeley with my cousin Dave Altman and received a lecture on anchors for 45 minutes (some of which I remember, I think) and then I went up a couple of 5.8’s.  I quickly discovered that a 5.8 outdoor climb were harder and much more fun than the 5.10’s in the gym. I also discovered that unlike in other sports, my small hands were quite “handy” for fitting in narrow cracks. Something about suffering in an off width crack is appealing to me and is definitely on my list of “to do’s.” 

Yes, it’s true, I’m not an authentic climber if by that you mean someone that trad climbs in Yosemite, sport climbs at Smith Rock or boulders every winter in J-Tree. As of December 2016, I haven’t placed a cam in a crack or even sport climbed. And while it’s no shame in being a Gumby, I’m trying hard not to be seen as a poser as I go through my Gumby years. So, if you see my gray haired skinny assed self at the Diablo Rock Gym, try not to laugh as I struggle up a 10c or 11a. Thanks.