Gray this morning, making today a good day for a rest day. Not that yesterday was any different; the gloom hung over the land for the entire day, spitting little coughs of snow here and there, but never manifesting into much in the way of stormy weather. I heated the gym up well before heading out there, and in the meantime, tested my one-arm skills inside after a 100 pull-ups for a warm up. Again, progress, so I’m down to the next level of bungee for weight-off purposes…only two lighter bands after this one, and I’m on my own. Exciting.

Then I headed out and did my laps, quickly forgoing the hardest ones, which involve long slaps to crimps, since I realized that to pursue this stubbornly would be a stupid call and asking for injury yesterday—my fingers were fatigued enough from the day before already. I focused instead on big-move, big-hold problems, pushing myself through that workout, and then back inside for the rest of the stuff. Took me all day, but I feel so satisfied with this new two-day workout structure; it’s really quite the butt-kicker, judging from my soreness this morning and the fact that I fell asleep ultra-early last night and didn’t wake up at all until morning.

If I do any cardio today, I think I’m back to walking instead of running now, with a new understanding of why, exactly, I don’t run during the route-climbing season. I never really grasped before why I just abruptly seem to stop running every time it starts, but now, I get it—it’s because I climb so much that I break into working cardio while I climb, and my legs get fatigued, too. So doing hundreds of moves in a short period of time during my power endurance training makes my whole body tired, and it makes me breathe hard, too. And I wake up the next day not wanting to run at all, but now, I understand more than ever exactly why this is.

It’s fine; I have plenty to do—always writing work to get done, and the closer it grows to my transition to outdoor climbing time, the more I need to get done now so I don’t have it hanging over me while I travel and climb.

Sunshine and 50 degrees yesterday; I could definitely get used to this. Still, I had a very low-energy day yesterday. I started out alright, answering a bunch of climbing coaching students, and then writing an article. But then…nothing—no creativity. So I decided to go for a run in the sun with the dog. Lovely day, but I barely managed to pick my feet up and make it through the whole run. Back home, I thought about trying to write, but still was not feeling the love at all.

Then, I gave myself the option of cleaning the house instead (it had reached that total chaotic mess phase, with muddy dog footprints all over the kitchen floor and wood chips all over the carpet along the path from the door to the woodstove…plus all of the dead fly carcasses from my ongoing battle with houseflies, and so on…disgusting). I realized that when cleaning the house seems more appealing than writing, then cleaning the house is what I should do.

Of course, much as I dislike cleaning,  I do love having a clean house, and once the job was done, I felt much happier and more settled—making my environment a bit more ordered again proved soothing and comforting. It just feels like a nicer place when it’s cleaned up.

I still felt tired, though, and slept for a long time last night as a result, a sound sleep with a funny dream that made me laugh out loud when I awoke. I actually still feel tired this morning…I think my body’s perhaps asking for a little let-up on the training schedule for a week, so I’ll just see how things go and do what feels right. I actually have two bouldering sessions planned for today, since that’s what works for my friends, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to just take it slow and easy at least in the first one. And then, perhaps just forgo the normal post-bouldering training this week, to let my body heal and rest—but I shy away from making this “the plan,” because if my energy picks up, I’ll train. I’m just receptive to listening up and hearing if this isn’t the right choice this week.

I spent four hours yesterday putting up every single climbing hold left in my gym that wasn’t up yet. Seeing as they were all screw-in holds, they all went in places at about shoulder-height or lower, since I discovered earlier this year that I don’t possess the pushing power to engage the drill bit with the screw and keep it that way without getting the force of my entire body behind the drill. It’s similar to bolting routes outside, actually—the more I can orient my body directly into the drill, the more likely I am to encounter success instead of the irritation of a stripped screw, dropped hold, or just utter inability to get the screw into the plywood.

Screwing in all of those holds was also similar to bolting outside in that it resulted in periodic outbursts from me as I cursed out holds with particularly difficult screws—“F. you!” I’d yell, as the hold fell to ground for the third or fourth time. Still, just like bolting, it was a satisfying experience, albeit frustrating, because I got all of those holds on the walls, greatly expanding the possibilities for routes in there, as well as leaving open many bolt holes and spaces for the 100+ more holds that I ordered earlier this week. It’s amazing how many climbing holds a gym can swallow up and still have room for more, really.

I also realized that squeezing the trigger of the drill and pushing on it with all of my girly might provided me with the best pinch-strength workout I’ve ever had. To sum it up in a single word, “Ouch.” My hands—the meat of my hands—hurt. I switched off hands, too, so that lefty at least took some of the brunt. I’m relieved I didn’t get any blisters, given the soreness of the skin where the drill was pressing against it.

After this four-hour hold-affixing session, I attempted to boulder a little bit on my own. Alas, I was pretty beat up from my efforts, so I just did some easy, stretching-out type of problems for about an hour, also making up a few new ones to try next time. It’s always difficult, though, to really get into making up problems when I’m already tired out—hard to tell and see what would be fun and challenging when I don’t feel so beat up.

Back inside, I actually managed to put in a decent workout, regardless of my sore hand-meat. I did a full finger workout, triceps, core, opposing muscles, and all of the supplementary, non-pull-power training exercises that comprise part of each two-day workout. I figured, why not get them all out of the way yesterday, just clearing my plate for today’s power endurance pull-up workout? So this leaves me with just that, plus stretching, for training today…a nice feeling, to know that even though it’s the most grueling part of my training each week, that I have that and only that to focus my efforts on as far as physical training for today.

Last night, trying to read in bed, my hands hurt so much even pinching the book that I had to give it up. But faith in the healing power of sleep did not disappoint—though I can feel the fatigue in my hands today, still, they no longer feature that horrible pain dancing fleetingly from place to place that was tormenting me last night. So I am good—didn’t overdo it—and ready for just pull-ups, and then rest ‘n’ writing for the rest of the day.