unused weights, forgotten, we turn to tust, iron turns to rust, our muscles sag, and our saggy bits will..;
I will be for my sins, at the Climbing and Outdoor show in Friedrichshafen. I will be at Grivel stand, you can come and ask me sensible questions, or non sensical ones. I will also be at the American Show, so American buddies I will be with my friends at the Liberty Mountain Booth representing Grivel.
hollow bellies its got a fab name in another language from a far away place.
Its summer time hopefully theres new gear for me to look at, good German beer to slake my thirst.
A mat for the dag is always a good idea.
Yoga every morning, breathing, a walk with the dog, a few shekels to buy some food, a dirty pair of shorts, a climb or two…..such are the things that make me happy……a swim, a dive, flowers…..
Wednesday, 29 June 2016
Tuesday, 28 June 2016
A dogs view of climbing and politics.By Stevie Political Haston.
the dog in question, suffering from a huge cyst, caused by immigrant bacteria no doubt.
In the last week, you have no doubt been distracted by idiots disrupting your life, commiseration's. I have been doing my usual, which means rebooting my on board archaic computer by an hours yoga, then falling into a rage as I view the theatre macabre that is politics today.
the Time Tunnel, force four with lulls, not too bad.
In the Underworld there are no distractions, except the wailings of the weak. My cousin Paul this year has come over strong, gone is the sallow youth, welcome to the muscled machine. Nice one Paul, about time.
the lull between the wave sets lets you breath, unlike modern politics which keeps you distracted.
After a few days with Paul, who has been either clawing his ways up low 7s, or actually dancing his way through them, I decided he should get stuck in on an 8a. I put him on Phantom Lover, a stiff proud line which is "muggy" and should fit in with Pauls strengths. Plus I love Phantom Lover, she is a stern mistress, a right little dominatrix.
taking a whipper.
Any way we enjoyed ourselves immensely, barely managing to escape up the mellow escape route. We had been full of big plans to visit sector Titan afterwards, but decided a bar with a beer was probably more appropriate.
you have to tram your way down this steep line and it finishes on the other side when you successfully master the Phantom Lover.
So there you go, a great route, I remember doing the first ascent, at 68kgs and fighting fit from 10 hrs Kick boxing and Judo a week. Today from mellow free diving training, and Yoga it felt more powerful. Its a battle no matter how you face it. And the battle that the UK is facing, that I have been frightened of happening is starting. The conditions for late 1930s german government are slowly being put into place. The confusion is there. The idiots who want a solution are there. The scapegoats have been found, the EU and immigrants, the real culprits are as usual the banks, and the bankers tea boys -the politicians, and their mouth pieces the media.
Escape from New York was a film with Snakespilskin as a hero, escaping from the Time Tunnel, or escaping from the UK?
The quagmire that socialism needs to swim through for a brighter tomorrow for everybody, is the same quagmire that the Elite will thicken and harden until you are imprisoned. Fight the good fight, and break, or clip your chains my friends. Clip those "offing" chains. Let the scales fall from your eyes, do not blame the Ice landers for beating the English at football blame the managers of the team.
In the last week, you have no doubt been distracted by idiots disrupting your life, commiseration's. I have been doing my usual, which means rebooting my on board archaic computer by an hours yoga, then falling into a rage as I view the theatre macabre that is politics today.
the Time Tunnel, force four with lulls, not too bad.
In the Underworld there are no distractions, except the wailings of the weak. My cousin Paul this year has come over strong, gone is the sallow youth, welcome to the muscled machine. Nice one Paul, about time.
the lull between the wave sets lets you breath, unlike modern politics which keeps you distracted.
After a few days with Paul, who has been either clawing his ways up low 7s, or actually dancing his way through them, I decided he should get stuck in on an 8a. I put him on Phantom Lover, a stiff proud line which is "muggy" and should fit in with Pauls strengths. Plus I love Phantom Lover, she is a stern mistress, a right little dominatrix.
taking a whipper.
Any way we enjoyed ourselves immensely, barely managing to escape up the mellow escape route. We had been full of big plans to visit sector Titan afterwards, but decided a bar with a beer was probably more appropriate.
you have to tram your way down this steep line and it finishes on the other side when you successfully master the Phantom Lover.
So there you go, a great route, I remember doing the first ascent, at 68kgs and fighting fit from 10 hrs Kick boxing and Judo a week. Today from mellow free diving training, and Yoga it felt more powerful. Its a battle no matter how you face it. And the battle that the UK is facing, that I have been frightened of happening is starting. The conditions for late 1930s german government are slowly being put into place. The confusion is there. The idiots who want a solution are there. The scapegoats have been found, the EU and immigrants, the real culprits are as usual the banks, and the bankers tea boys -the politicians, and their mouth pieces the media.
Escape from New York was a film with Snakespilskin as a hero, escaping from the Time Tunnel, or escaping from the UK?
The quagmire that socialism needs to swim through for a brighter tomorrow for everybody, is the same quagmire that the Elite will thicken and harden until you are imprisoned. Fight the good fight, and break, or clip your chains my friends. Clip those "offing" chains. Let the scales fall from your eyes, do not blame the Ice landers for beating the English at football blame the managers of the team.
Sunday, 26 June 2016
Post Brexit, your climbing gear will cost more, by Stevie Haston.
So there is a new day, a racist dawn in England. The Uk was always a racist country even though it was made up of immigrants for at least 1000 years! Befor that of course, along time before that, it was covered in ice, and at that time only was it, one race -pure english.
Pen shells illigal to kill these, these are very old ones.
I come from immigrants, my blood is not pure. I am not English. I have a UK passport. My mother was Maltese, my father Scotish, I have kids who have different nationalities. I was married to a French lady and lived there for a quarter of a century, where do I go now?
Alex is German she has two kids from an English guy, she lives on Gozo climbs with me.
Saint Peter and Paul, two Palistinian geezers, one emigrated through Malta creating the most catholic country in the world, he later conquered Italy, but it took a couple of centuries.
I am not a fan of brexit, and I will winge and moan about this bullshit result, it's got nothing to do with democracy, it's got to do with politicking and manipulating the gullible. I am luckily, My background is from a broad international sport who are not racist, we are all brothers and sisters. I always hated Nationality, it's created to fill the ranks, create cannon fodder, and pay rich people to rule over you. Britain was never great, the successful business of the British empire was great. It was great in ripping off, and killing huge swathes of people. It was also good at keeping it's own folk enslaved in poor working conditions and poor wages. This vote was won because the poor and disenfranchised of England, have been left to marinate in cities and towns that are half dead with no hope. This was not done by Europe, this was done by the Torries. Kick the Effing Torries out, don't leave Europe. Get real people, stop blaming the wrong crew.
Cousin Paul, American Maltese decent like me, we are climbing together.
I have just lost the right to live and work in 27 countries, it meant huge freedom for me. I now have the right to go back, where exactly? Oh England you are smouldering, but I hope you won't be burning. They (the rabble) are already beating immigrants or foreigners, or people who look different in the UK. Kristall Nacht is possible, please don't let it happen.
Friday, 17 June 2016
Work ethic and Sport and life, by Stevie Haston.
To get fit, you have to work. To understand, you must have knowledge. To reap, you must sow. To climb, you must at least start. At the mention of training, or hard work, you can see climbers and most people running for the hills.
"I see it in your eyes
The same fear that would take the heart of me
A day will come when the courage of men fails
But it is not this day…" Aragon in Lord of the Rings telling you to start your workout.
I did my usual big workout yesterday, the one that doesn't work. Strangely it works for me. It would break most people. Lots of things break me, but my work outs don't, they make me strong, they prepare me. So between all the sets of pull ups, I was doing the odd stretch and listening to a Lady Yogi, talking about her daily 4 hours of Yoga! She's a super good girl, and does really good stuff. But 4 hours, it made me cringe with laziness. It broke me! She gets up early, and has a few classes of water, and does her Yoga. Laurence my companion for all those years used to do the same some days.
The myth of Sisyphus is just a myth.
My personal journey at the moment is an hours yoga on average, followed by an hour of breathing. Oh and I have given up coffee, probably the hardest thing of all! Is it working? Yes, I am calmer, after four days of headaches from having no coffee, it became OK.
So why? Lots of reasons, I want a fresh start on my body and mind, I want to be in control of my person, and of course I want to use my body as my own personal space ship for exploring joy, and whats left of the Planet, and my life.
I often used to train for 3 months, or four months, the time of a winter in North Wales, or roughly 90 to 120 days. Pilates promises you a good result in 10 weeks. If you do yoga every morning for 30 to 40 days you see something. I will try to keep things going because I like what is happening. You must educate your self, you must improve, you must have joy. The cost I think is about 100 days. A bargain really.
Is an hour of yoga hard? Not really. Is giving up coffee hard? Yes it is, for me more so than for most I would imagine. What else is hard? Being ignorant of a full life, being led through the nose by a deceitful media, and government, having false idols. Not having joy. Long live joy, do your breathing in the morning. And grasp the nettle, cease the day, clip those chains and break those chains that bind you to false newspapers and idiots.
Friday, 3 June 2016
Ali is dead, long live Ali, by Stevie also ran Haston.
Ali had to go, but clearly now that he has gone, why is he still here in my head. Because I suspect for me, he was the personification of male beauty and strength, strength not just of the body, but of his convictions.
He failed the first induction test to the army of the despicable disorientated States of America, in its totally absurd war of Empire, and Munitions selling. How did he fail it? He scored 78 on the intelligence test, a very easy thing for him to do, because he was as sharp and quick as a spinning nickel in the sun. The USA lowered its standard a couple of notches to include his percentile a bit later, when they were running out of cannon fodder so Ali quickly found him self in hot water. He most famously said, "I aint got no quarrel with them Vietcong, no Vietcong ever caller me Nigger!" Ali there after became more politicised, as he was hounded by the American government and authorities. He converted to Islam, and was a conscientious objector, but they still stripped him of his title and did the worst pounding of this man that Ali ever took. The Army, the government and the establishment all went after Ali and he went on the run, but they couldn't shut his mouth, his big beautiful, intelligent mouth. He fought the establishment and American racism very well and for a long time, I for one am grateful for his words and fights both in and out of the ring. He wasn't a perfect man, as many symbols have a touch of tarnish, here and there, but people interested in a more rounded and in-depth look at this big man will have plenty of opportunity over the next week. Ali suffered from Parkinson's disease which was caused by the huge head trauma he suffered, possible in the terrible fight which was dubbed Dope on a rope, where his stratergy was to let his opponent get exhausted by using him as a punchbag. In 2005 Ali converted from Islam to Sufism which is the more spiritual side of Islam. There is nothing much more for me to say apart from watch one, or 10, of his fights, watch the films made about him, thank him for his quips, like "float like a butterfly sting like a bee."
Early morning jog, boxing Hoody on, in honour of Ali. He was probably the first sporting guy I listened to, he was funny, clever, cheeky, he got me training, skipping rope...
He failed the first induction test to the army of the despicable disorientated States of America, in its totally absurd war of Empire, and Munitions selling. How did he fail it? He scored 78 on the intelligence test, a very easy thing for him to do, because he was as sharp and quick as a spinning nickel in the sun. The USA lowered its standard a couple of notches to include his percentile a bit later, when they were running out of cannon fodder so Ali quickly found him self in hot water. He most famously said, "I aint got no quarrel with them Vietcong, no Vietcong ever caller me Nigger!" Ali there after became more politicised, as he was hounded by the American government and authorities. He converted to Islam, and was a conscientious objector, but they still stripped him of his title and did the worst pounding of this man that Ali ever took. The Army, the government and the establishment all went after Ali and he went on the run, but they couldn't shut his mouth, his big beautiful, intelligent mouth. He fought the establishment and American racism very well and for a long time, I for one am grateful for his words and fights both in and out of the ring. He wasn't a perfect man, as many symbols have a touch of tarnish, here and there, but people interested in a more rounded and in-depth look at this big man will have plenty of opportunity over the next week. Ali suffered from Parkinson's disease which was caused by the huge head trauma he suffered, possible in the terrible fight which was dubbed Dope on a rope, where his stratergy was to let his opponent get exhausted by using him as a punchbag. In 2005 Ali converted from Islam to Sufism which is the more spiritual side of Islam. There is nothing much more for me to say apart from watch one, or 10, of his fights, watch the films made about him, thank him for his quips, like "float like a butterfly sting like a bee."
At times Ali seemed to have 8 arms and was a slippery customer, even Presidents in the end could not take him on. A great counterpuncher, a showman, an entertainer, a fighter for the rights of the black man in America, Muhammad Ali, the man formally know as Casius Clay a slave name which he renounced.
Early morning jog, boxing Hoody on, in honour of Ali. He was probably the first sporting guy I listened to, he was funny, clever, cheeky, he got me training, skipping rope...
there you go, if only Ali had done a little climbing we might have the odd brilliant quip to laugh or smile about our sport.
The real prince is dead.
Thursday, 2 June 2016
Letting go, by Stevie Hanging on Haston.
Breath and let go….
Letting things go is easier said than done. As a climber of some success, I often wish I could let go a bit more. I won't say I can't let go, but it's hard and in that struggle to let go of my aspirations and limits, I sometimes get psychologically pumped.
The Y pose, theres water on the tiles it makes it slippery.
My head is a bit too full at the moment, and I will reel my neck in, and stop doing so much. I gave up coffee a week ago, doesn't sound like much, does it? For me it's at least 8c. And what is worse, although I always want to do 8c, why, oh why would I want to give up coffee?
The Pigeon was let go, he never looked back, he never said thank you, fair winds and good sailing..
Breathing is interesting to me, as an amateur Free Diver it's of obvious importance. Coffee was screwing my breath holding capabilities, so it has had to take a long holiday. Breathing is very important for everything, particularly climbing, but few people believe me. But just listen to Ondra and Sharma Power screaming, and you might understand the force of Breath.
The evil eye, because I want to do another route, just let go and do it….
never talk to some one while they are making the knot, do not distract the knot, the knot must never let go.
Letting things go is easier said than done. As a climber of some success, I often wish I could let go a bit more. I won't say I can't let go, but it's hard and in that struggle to let go of my aspirations and limits, I sometimes get psychologically pumped.
The Y pose, theres water on the tiles it makes it slippery.
My head is a bit too full at the moment, and I will reel my neck in, and stop doing so much. I gave up coffee a week ago, doesn't sound like much, does it? For me it's at least 8c. And what is worse, although I always want to do 8c, why, oh why would I want to give up coffee?
The Pigeon was let go, he never looked back, he never said thank you, fair winds and good sailing..
Breathing is interesting to me, as an amateur Free Diver it's of obvious importance. Coffee was screwing my breath holding capabilities, so it has had to take a long holiday. Breathing is very important for everything, particularly climbing, but few people believe me. But just listen to Ondra and Sharma Power screaming, and you might understand the force of Breath.
The evil eye, because I want to do another route, just let go and do it….
never talk to some one while they are making the knot, do not distract the knot, the knot must never let go.
Where do you go to my lovely, when your alone in your head, what are the thoughts that surround you when your alone in your bed?
The dog does his Yoga with me most mornings.
Climbing has never been simple for me, nothing is very simple for me, breathing is even difficult for me, that's why I loved Mountain running, and Altitude climbing, because then your breath has an ultimate master, who he must perforce give in to. But I want to Master my breath, it will help me in my next route of many colours and contortions, and will help me get a bit better at diving. The dog by the way is not that good at yoga, he has three poses. Downward Dog obviously, Licking his Dick, obviously, and Scratching the flea. But he watches me breath, concerned if I am doing Breath of Fire. His worst habit is licking my face when I am lying down trying to relax!
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