On the mend... my re-introduction to climbing again.

It began last fall. As I finished my final semester at Northeastern University, I felt the pressure of school and life begin to fade and peel away. Finally, I could really dedicate some time to training, getting psyched, and climbing some of the routes that seemed to, inevitably, loom in my future. These classic routes that begged to be climbed like The Prow at Cathedral Ledge, Welcome to the Gunks (at the Gunks... duh), and Rose Crack at Upper West were desperately in need of being sent. With the winter closing in I realized that many of these routes would be there next season and decided to embracing the winter and work on my ice climbing skills. Then, as may of us who aspire to mediocrity will feel at some point, I incurred a major set back.

While doing some early season snowboarding in PA, and, like an idiot, trying to impress my girlfriend and her family, I wrecked. I managed to slam my elbow into the man made excuse for ice/snow and fractured my arm. As I sat in stoned on opioids at the hospital later that evening, waiting to receive my diagnosis, I couldn't help but think of how strong I had been starting to feel, the incredible ice season that was quickly approaching, and, worst of all, how hard it was going to be not to climb! The doctors response hit HARD. 3 Months till I could touch the rock again. 3 MONTHS!!!! I have known pregnant women that haven't missed that much climbing, and they had a fucken kid! What could I do though, ice season was a total miss, and likely most of the spring and everything I had been working toward. It didn't seem to make sense to get mad about it, but I felt so frustrated. I just wanted to break something... no pun intended.

Before I get all introspective and mushy on you I just want to set the record straight, DON'T BREAK YOUR ARM IT SUCKS! If you do manage to break yourself, I hope you take what I have to say here to heart.

As winter dragged on I managed to review why I loved climbing so much. I quickly came to the realization that climbing wasn't always about the climbing. It is just as much about community as it is about sending. I found my self still hanging out with my climbing buddies drinking beers, belaying with one hand while they trained in the gym and top roped ice, and even helped run and ice festival with a group called VICE (Vertical Ice Climbing Enthusiasts). I realized why this sport had become my life style. CLIMBERS ROCK!!!! This community was there for me, to share a beer, to poke fun at me, and even to listen to my complaints.

Now that 3 months is up, ice season is over, but rock season is beginning again. With my arm and spirit healed I finally feel like I can crush whatever New England can throw at me. To everyone who helped me through this winter. I love you motherfucka's. See y'all on the rock, in the gym, and at the bar!