Thank you, Iloilo

"You made everyone believe that they could climb." 

 These were Hanna's words as she and Bea drove me home last night. 

You made me realize that all the fears I've had growing up were learned. My paraphrase of what Alex told me as she recalled what I said in Bouldering 101: We only have two innate fears -- loud noises and the fear of falling. 

"You can be a food blogger." Thanks Matt. My taste buds know only salty, sour, and sweet. Thank you for believing in me. I never lost my faith that you could send the boulder problem you've worked on for weeks. Some days you made me question that faith. But you always kept your eyes to the skies. 

Some of us just stare at sky. One person seemingly has the ability to bring it down--Jamie with her power scream as she climbed. It was enough to drown all her demons and ours, too. But her eyes never showed fear. Scared but focused. I believe the term for it is concurrent processing. 

 I'm also processing the time I've spent in Iloilo. I've lived here for almost a year. I first visited Iloilo a couple of years ago. That's when Sophie taught me to never give up my Sicilian Bishop. 

I usually use words to remember things. My visual memory is not the finest. But I can still clearly recall Bea's face after I told her that I have been thinking about my father everyday since he passed many years ago. 

 Bea glanced at me sideways, casually, as she downed a round of beer: "He must have been a good dad." San Miguel Pilsen. Such a clean beer. 

It was a difficult relationship. But he was a good father.

Speaking of being a parent, I'm closer to being parents to some of our climbers than being their older brother. I gloried in the times I made them cringe when I said stuff like "bruh this foothold is so sus" or "how do you like my climbing rizz?"

My favorite thing to teach was finding joy. But I never said it out loud. It's the reason why I never pushed anyone to climb hard. "Good is good enough." 

I barely bothered anyone with how they choose to climb a route. It's better to execute the wrong beta correctly than to do the right beta poorly. 

My second favorite thing to do was asking people what mental illness they have. No, not really. My second favorite thing to do was getting to know everyone as people. 

[This is the part where I paused to test myself how many names I could write. I got to 20 relatively easily. I can still squeeze my brain and get to at least 30. It helps that there are at least three Kai's] 

So I need to stop right now because I realize I can go on talking about my personal experiences with the people I've met. 

It was a good run. We always leave a part of ourselves behind. The part of myself that will stay behind would like to say, "See you later, best belayer." 

(I just randomly recalled I still have a tab at Kalye Kahlo for a Spanish Latte. Sorry Jicel!)

Antagonistic Setting Needs to Stop

Here are examples of antagonistic setting:

• Placing holds two meters (figuratively) apart to force a "dynamic" move.
• When matching the last hold is the crux of the entire boulder.
• Angling the holds in an un-ergonomic way to force a "hard" sequence.

"Antagonistic" setting is not an industry term. I just made it up.

Beauty is the Beast

Challenging moves are necessary to keep climbers interested. But we can also strive for beauty and elegance -- even on burly moves (who says a beast can't be beautiful?).

An antagonistic approach works like this:

How can I make this sequence hard to force someone to do the beta that I want?

A protagonistic approach works like this:

I want to create this cool move I have in my mind. How can I help my climbers do that move?

Instead of using holds as barriers to force a move, why don't we use them as tools that will help climbers move beautifully?

Maybe the difference between antagonistic and protagonistic is just the framing. But the frame does affect the picture we make.

Affordances

Don Norman's book, The Design of Everyday Things, talks about the concept of affordances: these are features that allow someone to do something. 

For example, the backseat of a chair allows us to lean back.

Maybe we need to start thinking of holds as affordances: things that we give to climbers so they can have fun.

Example 1:

I need to screw holds far enough to force a dynamic sequence.

Alternate solution:

Can I force a body position that forces them away from the next hold? So that they will be forced to use power and dynamism to get to the next hold? Can I use body tension to force a dynamic move if they let go of one limb?

Example 2:

I will make the first and last sequences cruxy.

Alternate solution:

These things work in the Olympics because it's hard to separate the field in top-level competition.

But at commercial gym is really just a leisure center. There's not leisure in not being able to get on a problem or falling at the very top.

I remember when I was climbing in Danao, the bolter (Algin) said he could end some of his hard lines somewhere in the middle. But why not give climbers an extra set of juggy sequences for a victory lap?

I like this mindset. Even the Tour de France ends in a champagne "race" around Paris.

Example 3:

I will angle this crimp vertically so that it makes for a dicey foothold.

Alternate solution:

Awkward footholds, gastons, and undercuts do make a move hard. But consider the wrist and ankle positions that you are forcing. Think: an injured customer is a non-paying customer.

Instead of Teaching Climbing, Why Don't We Teach "Body"?

PS: I've been writing lately because there's no one to speak my mind to.

You've probably been taught this way: This is a heel hook. Here's how you can do it.

I'm not sure if I have an upside-down brain but I prefer to teach a different way:

This is your foot, here's what you can do with it:

• You can step with it (toe).
• You can use it to pull your body towards a hold (heel hook).
• You can use it get above a hold (rock over).
; and
• You can use it for counter balance (flag).

You can use your hips to:

• Change direction
• Put more weight on your feet (twist)
• Reach further without pulling (again, twist); or
• Generate power (by moving it away and back).

The material is the same. It's only a shift in language. But I've noticed that people respond better when you hold their hand as you walk towards an unfamiliar concept; instead of presenting an unfamiliar concept and unwrapping it in front of them.

Why Some People Struggle to Use Their Feet

I have some guesses but treat this as if I'm an Ancient Greek philosopher theorizing about the nature of the atom. Here we go:

• Their ankles are weak. I guess this has something to do with their calf muscles.
• They are uncoordinated. Yes, some people cannot sync the movement of their hands, body, and feet. They may step down on a hold before their weight is above it; then their feet pop. If you are one of these people, you're lucky you found a sport that will help you fix this disconnect. Believe in yourself!

Side note: When you see someone climbing effortlessly, they're actually not. There's always effort involved when you're grabbing tiny things while gravity is trying to pull you away from it. It's just that every bit of their body is working together in harmony so it creates the visual effect of effortlessness.

• They are scared and can't think. Fear is always real: even if someone is two footholds above a 30-cm crashpad that covers the entire gym floor. I do respect this fear but I haven't found a way yet to discuss this with people who are new to climbing.

I take a lot of joy teaching how to climb because I'm helping people understand how their body moves. I think our bodies are important because it holds everything that defines us: our thoughts, emotions, and longings for the sunset.

Yes, our bodies do hold everything that defines us but it does not define us.

Marston Mats are All Over Iloilo

Quick preface: I do not romanticize war. 

If you want to put into concrete terms the havoc it brings, do this: 

1. Grab a hammer 

2. Hit random things in your room for 40 seconds.

War does way more than that. 

This post in an invitation to look into your built environment and encourage you to ask: That looks odd. Where does it come from? 

And off we go.

Perforated steel plankings (Marston mats) is used to build temporary runways or landing strips. Think of them as steel pavements with evenly sized and evenly spaced steel holes. 

Each plank can be interlinked to create a wider surface. 

Marston mats are all over Iloilo City, particularly in Molo and Mandurriao. You will also see bits and pieces of them all over Oton. It got me wonder: where do these all come from?

I haven't found any photo of airfields in WW2 Iloilo that have Marston mats installation. But I've found that there are a number of airfields that served US forces during the Second World War: 

Mandurriao Airstrip aka Law Airstrip: It later became a civilian airport until Iloilo International Airport opened in Cabatuan.

Sta Barbara Airport: I saw this referenced on PacificWrecks.com as a "single runway surfaced with clay." The clay was likely padded with Marston Mats. However, on Cabatuan.com, I've read that: Sta Barbara Airport is in fact Tiring Landing Field. 

Tiring Landing Field (TLF): An unpaved airfield where the WW2 Japanese forces surrendered. It is now called Iloilo International Airport, part of the Municipality of Cabatuan.