Where's my stamp?

As I might have mentioned to a few people,  I was in Budapest this week.  A colleague was giving a presentation/training on our current pumps to some of our reps and distributors around the area (Hungary, Romania, Slovenia, etc).  I was there mostly to observe since this the same presentation that I will be giving all across the US when I return.  There were 16 of us that had gotten together at the Ramada hotel representing about 8 or so different countries and everyone spoke English, sort of.  The presenter is from England so he was the only real English speaker.  Americans don't really speak English according to England, so I didn't count.  Americans pretty much stole the English language and then started changing things we didn't like.  No wonder England doesn't like us.  We steal everything from them (e.g. music and David Beckham).  Some of the group could understand more than they could speak, which was fine since Netzsch would be doing most of the talking anyway.

Let me take a step back for a second.  I met up with my colleague from England and we took a taxi to the hotel.  We got there around 2PM and didn't have to be anywhere until 8PM for dinner at the hotel.  So we dropped our bags off in the rooms, grabbed a few maps and headed out into town.  Budapest is divided into two areas, Buda and Pest (pronounced Pescht).  They are divided by the Danube River.  Our hotel was on the Pest side.  Anyhow, we walked into town and managed to navigate to the subway and locate a place where we could get some food and a couple beers.  Afterward we trekked down to the river which would lead us to the Parliament building.  It's one of many buildings there that still maintain that old style architecture that looks like it came from ancient Greece or Rome.  Magnificent sculptures and artwork on the outside of the buildings.  Well we got a little too close to the Parliament building and a security guard in a green poncho swooped down to the ground like batman to scold us.  A little startled by this angry man, we laughed and continued on our way.  My partner in crime thought it was funny that he immediately started yelling at us in English rather than Hungarian.  I suggested that he knew we were foreigners because no other idiots would hop over the chain-linked fence that surrounds the building.  After that we used our inherited manly sense of direction to get back to the subway that would get us within walking distance to the hotel.  We even managed to buy the correct tickets from the automated machine rather than going up to the teller.  After getting off of the subway we were greeted by more security guards at the top of the escalator asking to see our tickets.  Fuck.  I had just thrown mine out in the trashcan at the bottom of the escalator.  I figured I was already off the subway so I didn't need it anymore.  Well they weren't buying it.  My accomplice and I both tried to talk our way out of paying the fine but they weren't budging.  6000 forints ($1 US = 200 forints).  Having been defeated, I payed the 30 bucks so they would shut up and we could get back to the hotel for dinner.  My stomach was a rumblin!

Dinner was pretty interesting.  The food was good, but the portions were pretty small.  I'm still hooked on the American diet which means I don't want to see any white space on that plate.  Fill it up!  I ate everything that was put in front of me and made short work of the bread bowls.  The rest of the night was filled with lots of international jokes and conversation that kept us up until about midnight.  The presentation went fairly well the next day.  I enjoyed the witty jokes that were mixed in while also learning a bit more about some technical issues regarding our pump design.  The technical information proved to be too much for some people while others were simply overloaded.  The presentation took about 8 hours, plus all the coffee breaks that kept everyone awake (mostly).

After the training was over we all got ready to go out for dinner at a local Hungarian restaurant.  Again, the food was good.  The portions were a bit better than the first dinner we had, but still falling short of the 'American standard.'  Following dinner we drove around to some other historical buildings that were dressed in the same ancient looking architecture as the Parliament building.  Imagining how these building were made without all the modern technology we have now is mind blowing.  It's incredible how they were able to much such large structures back then and make sure that everything is in perfect alignment.  We made about 4 or 5 stops before arriving back at the hotel around 1AM.  Lucky me, I had to be up at 6 so I could be on time for my flight back to Munich.  I was pretty destroyed by the time I made it back to the office.  Somehow I snapped out of it just before a web conference that afternoon.

When I got to Budapest no one checked for my passport.  There was no check in point when I got off the flight.  You simply pick up your bags and leave the airport.  Where the hell is my stamp?  What good is a passport if you can't fill it up with stamps of where you've been?  I want proof dammit!  I asked someone at an information center and she told me that you can travel pretty much anywhere in Europe without needing to show a passport (other than to get your boarding pass).  There are a few countries that this does not hold true with, but they're like the red headed step children of Europe.  I made sure to hold onto a handful of Hungarian cash and coin, so at least I've got something to show for being in Budapest.  Aside from nearly getting arrested for trespassing and not having a subway ticket that is.

Prideless Independence

A week or so ago I had a conversation over the phone with a friend of mine, all in German.  At first I didn't think too much about it.  Heck I've been here for six months I ought to be able to hold a conversation, even if I still sound like a 3rd grader.  The next day when we got together, he told me how surprised he was that I never once broke out of German.  Even more surprised was his girlfriend.  She had asked who was on the phone and was taken aback when she learned that I was on the other side of the call.  It would have been a dead giveaway had we been speaking English, but since we were conversing in German there was no direct indication that it was me.  I'll admit, both of their reactions made me feel good.  It was a sign that learning to speak German, somewhat fluently, wasn't going to be impossible.

A few days later, I revisited those thoughts and it made me realize something else.  Since moving to Germany I've become more independent as well as learning how to ask for help.  That's not an oxymoron.  I've always thrived on being independent.  For as long as I can remember I've always been one to do things on my own, to do things my way and to do it without help.  Yeah, I was that stubborn ass and I still am.  It is that quality though that drives me.  It is the fuel that gets me through grueling track workouts, the fuel that gets me up the mountain, or simply the fuel that gets me through a shitty day at work.  It has been the driving force behind my determination and persistence in nearly all that I do.  My tenacious character isn’t all gravy though.  In fact it’s come back to bite me in the ass on a few occasions.  Like when taking a gamble that I was right about something, only to get it really wrong and watch it blow up in my face.  Or procrastinating something for too long because I was too stubborn to ask someone for help.  But when learn from our mistakes.

Living in Germany has taught me how to better balance the two.  There are times where I needed to be self sufficient while also needing to check my pride at the door.  Case in point, my survival instincts kicked into high gear when I needed to get some food in the fridge.  When I first got here, I had no means of transportation other than a good pair of running shoes and no means of calling anyone unless I wanted to make like Croc Dundee and wake up the whole neighborhood.  So I laced up my shoes and started my hunt for town.  On the border of walking home in defeat after not finding a store after an hour of searching, I made a final push and asked someone for directions (in German).  I made it to the store that day and stocked up.  I could tell similar stories of finding the laundry mat, or establishing a bank account, or getting a cell phone.  Some things I could manage with a determined search through town while other things I needed to ask for help from my friends.  I wasn’t really interested in messing up something like a bank account or getting raped by a ridiculous cell phone plan.

Being independent has taken on a new meaning since moving to Germany.  It means being able to get past the fear of trying new things while knowing when to let go of your pride and ask for help.  I checked both at the airport.

Boundary Line

The climbing vs. running analysis spawned from thinking about my climbing technique, strengths, weaknesses, goals and my interest in trying new types of climbing.  

Spending a good deal of my time at the climbing gym after work (at home), I generally flock to the boulder walls as many do.  It's a great way to build power and expand your quiver of climbing maneuvers while sharing the excitement of working a project with other friends and climbers.  It's also more convenient than enlisting a climbing partner to share belays with on the lead wall.

I really enjoy bouldering and the sensation you get after unlocking the moves to a tricky problem and nabbing the send.  After spending month after month in the gym and occasionally outside, my bouldering strength went up.  I pushed myself to climb outside of my comfort zone and started sending problems that were a grade or two above what I perceived to be my climbing ability.  It wasn't long before I started to wonder what I was capable of on roped climbs.  What could I do if I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone in lead climbing the way I had in bouldering?  That's when I started looking at my strengths and weaknesses as a climber and compared them to that of my running abilities.

While lead climbing together, a mentor of mine told me that I climb with intent in that every hand and foot placement is chosen carefully and mindfully to prepare for the next move, a skill that is generally present among efficient climbers.  Efficient climbers.  Kinda sounds like a distance runner doesn't it?  I started making comparisons and quickly found that my strengths as a runner (stride efficiency, moderate power, moderate endurance, race strategy) dictated my strengths as a climber.  Racing mostly at 800 meters - 5k, I fall right into the 'mid distance' or 'sport climbing' range.

I started redirecting my efforts to top rope and sport climbing at the gym whenever I could snag a partner.  Before long I was toping on 5.12's and leading 5.11's.  The grades themselves were nothing to brag about, but for me it was huge progress.  When I stopped thinking of climbs as impossible or 'above my level' I started climbing harder. I learned to do away with the fear of failure and started pushing that boundary line out farther and farther.  Now that I know more about my strengths and weaknesses as a climber (and a runner) I know where to focus my efforts to push the boundary line out even more.

"Fear nothing.  Defy your boundaries."

Climbing vs Running

Coming from a running background, I think of different climbing styles in terms of race distances.  Bouldering is most like sprinting because both practices require raw strength and power with dedication to form.  I look at roped climbs as mid-long distance events due to the focus on endurance and efficiency.  During some eh, spare time, I gave the analogy more thought.  This is what I came up with.

100, 200 meters = Bouldering
400 meters= High Ball Bouldering
800 - 1600 meters = Sport Climbing / Top Rope
3200 - 10k = Marathon Sport Climbing (Sharma style)
10k - Marathon = Trad/Big Wall Climbing
Triathlon/Ironman  = Mountaineering/Alpinism

I didn't really put much thought to top rope but decided to throw it in with sport climbing under the 800 - 1600 meter range because most top rope climbs are the same length as single pitch sport climbs.  Marathon sport climbing gets its own category because people like Sharma have noticeably pushed the limits of single pitch sport climbing.  A lot of the routes he's established, like the ones in Catalunya, Spain or Yangshuo, China, required a special rope made by Petzl.  The next tier is Trad and Big Wall climbing.  I chose the race equivalents above because most Trad climbs dip into multipitch territory.  Trad climbing is often the gateway drug into Big Wall climbing just like 5k's and 10k's eventually lead to half marathons and full marathons.  Often times marathons lead into the ultimate challenge of Triathlons, Ironman's and Adventure Racing just as Trad and Big Wall climbing may one day lead to full-on mountaineering and alpine climbing.

I didn't add ice climbing to this list because I didn't want to unfairly place it somewhere.  I would probably put it alongside both the Trad and Mountaineering/Alpinism categories because the skillset is different than other forms of climbing, just as marathoning and ultra-marathoning are far different than your local 5k.  In marathons and beyond, you have to worry about replenishing nutrients midrace, unlike a 5k or 10k.

The comparison was just for fun, but if you have any comments feel free to leave them below.

Funkin' Foot

These last few days of having a hole in my foot have posed a bit of a problem.  I generally walk or bike to work, or anywhere else I need to go for that matter.  On Monday I was able to walk to work (my bike was still in the parking lot from not riding it home on Friday) since the hole had already begun to close over the weekend and was starting to feel better.  Thanks to the new hole the doc made that afternoon and the plastic apparatus he placed in there, I wouldn't be walking anywhere far.  By Tuesday afternoon I got fed up with my immobility and rode my bike home using mostly my left leg and very slight assistance from my right.  I could only place my heel on the pedal but I was able to travel pain free, sort of.  Stopping was a bit challenging because my natural tendency is to put my right foot down first.  Not smart.  I rode to and from work the next day and had the plastic insert removed that afternoon.  Now the wound could officially start to heal and I would be able to wear a shoe again.  NOW WE'RE TALKIN'!  Yesterday I was able to walk around without anyone noticing a problem.  My arch is still tender where the nail went in but it's healing nicely now.


So for the last week I kinda felt like this guy



The nail was the same size.  My reaction wasn't quite the same as Marv's, but it sure didn't tickle.  Today I'm finally able to wear a sock and shoe again, which means I can cover up the colossal funk that spawned from my foot being bandaged up for 7 days.   I can even ride my bike with my feet properly positioned on the pedals.  The doc says I should be completely pain free and ready to rumble within the next day or two.  WAHOO!  As much as I love having a 'get out of jail free' excuse for playing video games, I'm looking forward to playing outside again and getting back in the gym.  The guy I weaseled into climbing with me before all this happened will be away on vacation next week, but I've got him locked in for climbing the week after.  That gives me plenty of time to make up for the training I missed out on because of this:

After the hole was re-opened and slightly enlarged

Nailed Down

The two things I love to do the most are run and climb.  I've been hitting the trails more often to satisfy my burning desires to escape the cage that is my apartment.  I'm still lacking big time in the climbing department.  Being in Germany, you would expect me to have climbed in the Alps already.  Or at least on some mountain around here.  Neither is the case.  The tricky thing about climbing is finding a partner that you trust.  That trust doesn't come easy.  It generally requires multiple climbing sessions together and a thorough knowledge of the sport and its many risks.  Since departing the U.S. I have been severed (almost) from my trusty adventure partner and have yet to find a substitute.  Actually none of my friends are intrigued by the idea of climbing outside and so far only one has agreed to climb inside with me.  I jumped on the opportunity last week and weaseled him into going climbing tomorrow after work.  Friday afternoon, the plague returned.  In search of some wood for a freestanding hangboard I'm planning to build, I went dumpster diving in the bin at work.  I found a few pieces that I thought might serve a purpose in my design before a stealthy 1/8" nail found its way into the arch of my foot.

As signals of pain made their way to my brain I quickly raised my right leg and watched the 4" long nail reveal the other half inch that was previously residing in my foot.  Within 3 whole seconds after stepping on the nail I was out of the dumpster sitting on the ground with my shoe and sock torn off applying pressure to the hole in my foot.  Feeling embarrassed about not seeing the nail, I wanted to get somewhere that I could clean the wound and bandage it up before finding someone to take me to the hospital.  That plan only last about 90 seconds before I lost my calm and the lights went out after walking 50 yards.  I didn't even make it out of the parking lot.  Someone making a delivery lifted me off the ground and dragged me inside the security guard booth where I was given a glass of water.  I quickly came to and had to answer a bombardment of questions, in German.  I explained who I was, what I was doing and what had happened, also in German.  How's that for "Aware and Oriented x 5?"  I had to repeat the entire rundown again plus answer a few more questions when the paramedics arrived to wheel me away to the "Krankenhaus."

About an hour later they were about to discharge me before I started firing off a few questions of my own.  Not able to remember when I had my last tetanus shot, I wasn't too keen on walking out of their without one. I found it interesting that no one had confirmed whether I had had a tetanus shot recently.  I remember the paramedics saying something about it and I thought they meant that they were going to give me one once I got to the hospital.  False.  Now I realize that they were asking me if I had one and I mistakenly said yes.  So much for that German course.  Anyway, I asked the nurse if she was going to give me the shot.  When I explained that I had no idea when I had my last tetanus shot she consulted the doctor who informed her that it had to be within the last 5 years.  Definitely did not have a tetanus shot in the last 5 years.  She agreed it was best to give me the shot and let me on my way, after which I called a friend to come pick me up.

I spent the rest of the weekend with my feet up, surfing the internet and playing video games.  Monday came around and as instructed I went to see my doctor.  Yes I have a doctor here in Germany.  Mr. Agha  and his staff of nurses know me by first name.  He had to re-open the wound to let it bleed out to prevent infection.  With one nurse restraining each of my legs and one nurse on standby, Mr. Agha cut into my foot and recovered two hefty pieces of rubber originating from my shoe.  Thanks to the nurses at the hospital that did such a great job cleaning it out!  Before wrapping my foot in a whole roll of gauze the doc put some plastic apparatus in there to keep the wound open for the next two days.  "Wonderful."  I go back tomorrow to have it removed so the wound can finally start to heal properly.  Needless to say I won't be climbing tomorrow.

Back to Abnormal

A while back I proclaimed my intent to sign up at the gym here in Waldkraiburg.  I finally got around to doing so last Thursday.  I've been in the gym three times now (not including when I'll go today after work) and relishing in the familiar sensation of being sore.  Since coming to Germany I've physically tested my body on a number of occasions, but it's nothing like the workload I'm used to subjecting myself to back home.  I covet the daily 5 milers and 4+ days of climbing each week that were routine.  I've yet to obtain a car and my array of friends lacks interest in physical or outdoor endeavors.  This leaves me with limited options for companionship in kicking my own ass at the closest climbing gym or shredding my tips out on the cliffs.  That being said, going to the gym (regular gym) in conjunction with running and getting outside on my bike is seemingly a good way to spend my time in between the more lofty outdoor adventures.

However, this regimen isn't likely to feed my appetite for too long.  Sooner or later something has to give.  Perhaps after a few visits to the climbing gym I'll be able to track down some other loonies like myself to venture into the wilderness with.  If that doesn't happen it won't be long before I either start going insane or start planning a solo trip.  Outdoor pursuits aside, I'm back to being injury free and my fitness level is rapidly returning.  I won't say I'm 'back to normal' since many will argue that I don't particularly qualify for normal.  I weighed myself at the gym yesterday on their scale that also tells you body fat percentage.  5.9% with a healthy BMI of 20.5?  Yeah man, certainly back to abnormal.