Thank you for your kindness. I do not want this post to sound ungrateful. Really I don’t:
When you see me and my working girl (guide dog) Fizz waiting patiently at the curb edge to cross the road, I do not think you rude for driving on.
Stopping and (I can only assume) flash your lights, waving at me or even tooting your horn, (this I can hear) will not make me walk out into the road.
By stopping early for the junction you are being kind. But you are also putting me in danger. If I were to cross in front of you, your engine noise could mask that of a car coming the other way, or a car behind you could decide to overtake.
Unless I am on a designated crossing, Fizz is trained to not go before you. So I will stand and I will wave you on. I will put my hand up to wave a thank you, or give you a thumbs up; but please just keep going.
(Even more so when it is dark, both me and Fizz will be in high viz, but we are both dazzled by your headlights)
When I wave the first car on, why would I then walk before the 2nd? I am not doing it to be ‘carist’ I will wave each and everyone of you on.
I am not being rude, I am ensuring my own safely. Please understand, by stopping early you are often creating traffic build up, reducing the ‘natural gaps’ that would enable me and Fizz to cross safely.
I am not alone with this, all guide dog owners are taught this, as are all (or where when I was trained) long cane users.
If I am with a friend or a kind stranger has offered to help me cross. AND if crossing in front of you would be the only option, I will drop Fizz’s harness handle (walking her just by her lead) and taking the arm of the person with me. This removes the responsibility to guide me from my guide dog and is the only time I will ‘break the rules’
This is because we have assistance from a sighted guide.
Thank you for taking the time to read this letter xx
This weekend saw the 3rd round of the BMC Paraclimbing series.
Manchester Climbing Centre was the venue – A beautiful former church, which has kept many of its original features, not to mention the lack of heating!! (Which was clearly felt this weekend ‘tup-north)
The routes were set, the atmosphere was buzzing and the turn out was phenomenal.
There were six competitors in female VI (according to the entry list anyway) and Abi a fellow vi Climber who often ‘flashed’ all her routes and boulders was here. So barring a natural disaster I set myself up for the best I could achieve would be a silver.
….. So what is a FLASH I hear you ask …..
To ‘Flash’ all routes and boulders is to get to the top hold on the first attempt. With the top rope climbing routes you only had one go to get the best score or to ‘flash’ the route, but with the boulder problems you are given 3 opportunities. Scoring a bonus 2 points if you succeed on the first go.
Anyway, I set myself the personal challenge to beat my scores from the same competition last year. Knowing that the climbs had been set harder, this was my way of judging how I had improved in the past year.
This is the same challenge I have set myself for each of the rounds. However one that, despite topping more routes and reaching higher in the routes I didn’t top, I didn’t actually achieve this in Edinburgh. But as we don’t climb the EXACT same routes each year this isn’t always a clear sign of improvement, they may have changed the scoring against how everyone performed last year.
This was certainly the case for the 2nd round this year; after 3 of the 4 Male VI climbers scored maximum points, the route setters upped the challange for London. Given that the 3rd top rope in Manchester was graded as a 7a (2a grades above my comfort zone) the Competition was seen to be set for a much higher status.
Usually as the routes go, boulder 1 and top rope 1 are lower grades, I flashed boulder 1, yet took a silly slip on top rope 1, costing me 26 points.
I got further on top rope 2 and just under the first ledge on top rope 3 (where I hadn’t expected to get too far from the ground!)
The second boulder was a challange and one I had hoped to return to after a break (but time ran away from me) while boulder 3 was set as a challange to most. I was happy to get the minimum points of 47 on this as it was such a hard set. 47 Out of 60 meant I got both my feet off of the ground, which given there was only one foot hold and the hand holds had an interesting placement was quite an achievement and similar to many of my fellow competitors.
Had time allowed I think a 3rd attempt on this route would have seen me complete it.
But time didn’t allow.
The sheer volume of competitors and lack of volunteers who could belay meant that the competition ran over by 35 minutes as it was. In which time I competed in the 3rd top rope, where I found myself scoring much higher than I expected.
Once the competition was over it was time to calm down, take off my climbing shoes (hello feet) and harness and await the results.
There were no podium blocks, but an innovative use of the stone steps that led upto the bouldering area and my catagory was read out.
As expected, 1st place went to Abi (which I congratulated her on) then 2nd place …….. Me!
I took my podium; accepted my medal and had my picture taken.
There had been no 3rd place on the podium which I had felt was odd, but had honestly thought the person named as 3rd had left.
It was only after all the podiums were announced that the organiser explained that the medals that hadn’t been handed out in London were ready for collection. It was at this point I discovered that a fellow female VI had been mis-catagoried and was in fact 2nd. So back went my shiny silver medal and out came the beautiful bronze!
Sadly it was too late to re-take the podium photographs. So the only one I have is of me with my silver. So here is my ‘incorrect’ Podium photo showing me beside the beautiful Abi.
Just as a car driver does not need to actually look at the gear stick to change gears in a car, there are places where I can move around with great ease without the need to see.
To a degree I can walk around in my local gym without the need for my cane or guide dog. The machines all have their set place, it is just me needing to focus on where the other gym goers are, although given the location of the mirrors and the windows in the gym I can easily become disorientated.
One such place I do not need to look is my own home.
Although this does not include my childrens’ bedrooms ….. These are the only two places in my home that I walk with shuffled feet and taking extra care. But then I have it on good authority that many of my sighted parents do the very same thing in their childrens bedrooms as they are a minefield of Lego, cars, clothes and all things child!
I can also extend this ease of movement to The Scout Hut where I volunteer, although with this environment I have to factor in moving children. However the main hall, entrance hall and kitchen are set out in such a way that apart from the odd additional table, everything has its place.
Suprisingly another place that I can move with ease is Calshot Climbing Centre. For obvious reasons the walls never move. Even though the holds and routes on the walls may alter. The blue fencing around the climbing walls and the black cubbyhole benches don’t move. It is just the climbers, their gear and the ropes that do.
The wall also has marked out areas on the floor where you can and cant walk. These are depicted by a dark red floor for the climbers and belayers to stand in and a black mat flooring where you can wait, stand and walk without being in the way of a climber or their belay partners. Although saying this, there is not much contrast between the two colours and if I don’t concentrate I can occasionally get it wrong. But generally I am ok. Although if I am moving between different climbs; for ease I will link into the arm of my CPiC.
Should I need to go and top up my water bottle or pick up a set of hold keys, because a hold has slipped, I can do this unaided and unsupervised by my partner. Although I will often ask him
Is there a clear path?
I know to walk with my head down, so that I can look out for objects on the floor. I also find myself asking others if they are belaying if there is the odd person stood. Because although I can see the person, I would really struggle to see the rope they were holding on to and as a considerate climber, I would never want to walk near a belayer that may need to suddenly move to support their climber.
This familiarity that is great for me is often an issue of concern for those who do not know me. Especially as I tend to wear a top that says ‘Blindclimber’ on the back.
I have previously, in other circumstances had people question my blindness. It is a common occurrence and one that does not faze me. It does however occasionally upset me when people are critical and rude in the way they question.
Why am I telling you this?
Well, Friday while climbing I had one such occurance.
The climbing wall was cold. So while belaying I had my fleece on. This covered my top. So as is usual, I don’t look up to watch my partner climb. Not because I am rude, but because once his feet are over my head height I can’t see very much of him. And because I feel is climbing and movements through the rope; I learnt a long time I didn’t have to get neck ache and pretend.
This does however often lead to other climbers (not so) quiet whispers of
Oh my God, he isn’t safe up there.
How can he be safe with her? She isn’t even watching him!
Wow, he’s brave. How can someone belay without looking out for the guy on the rope?
This is a conversation I have had many a time with my CPiC, he knows I have him. He knows he is safe. He would not be happy to climb if he didn’t feel either of them.
Friday was very much the same. With my fleece on the group of three chatting by us were not so subtle in their conversation and accusations. So me being the outspoken, no shit personality that I am. Without them even asking, I politely said
Hey, just so you guys are aware, I can’t see too well, so if you are climbing near here you will need to be more aware of where my partner is as I can’t warn him of where you may be on the wall.
This was met with the usual mumbles and apologies as they were well aware that I had overheard them talking. And as such were very detailed in the position they were going to climb, which was actually several climbs over and no where near (but this I also already knew from the direction of their voices and the movement of their rope bag)
But it enabled me to make my point and be heard loud and clear.
So, it was my time to climb and off came the fleece. The back of my top visable and I never thought anything more of it.
That was until later in the evening when I went to full up my water bottle (afterall when it is cold it is just as important to be hydrated!). and The Three Amigos were sat around the other side of the wall laughing and joking. I was met with
She can’t really be blind, look she is walking with such confidence she can clearly see what she is doing. Why would you lie?
I don’t even warrant such comments with an answer. I just got my water and went back to my partner. He instantly realised I was bothered by something and so I told him, he knows how this gets to me and told me (sincerely) to ignore them and enjoy the climb.
Which is exactly what I did.
And exactly what I will continue to do each and every time someone questions my abilities.
Afterall, those who are technically blind can often see something. And they will use that minimal sight to appear as ‘normal’ as the next person. I don’t believe I am any different to others in that way?
Or maybe I am? Why don’t you put your comments below. I am always interested in people views.
…… Your arms and legs are only a tool to enable you to achieve any height. (Or something similar)
This was in one of the many climbing books I have read, it is one that has (loosely) stuck with me. My CPiC often says think positively and you can achieve anything.
Well, on Tuesday I attended the 2nd round of the BMC 2017 Paraclimbing competition at The Castle Climbing Centre in London. And I am beginning to think I shouldn’t have gone.
I have lots of things going on in my personal life at this time that I am trying to work my way through, the funny weather and darker evenings are beginning to take effect too.
So to say I wasn’t on top form on Tuesday would be an understatement!
I was exhausted, I was emotionally tired before the climbing even started and it was only a very last minute decision that actually saw me attend.
Because up until 10pm Monday night I wasn’t going to go. I didn’t want to go and perform badly. But some smooth words of encouragement from my CPiC and I changed my mind, because going and performing badly would still put me above where I would be if I didn’t show up. So I was already beating my worst possible scoring just by showing up and getting my hands and feet on those first holds.
I set myself a personal challenge to get through the day.
Remembering back to last years competition at The Castle where I didn’t reach for the next hold for fear of failing, I told myself
you have to climb until you fall… Because there is a 50:50 chance you COULD make it
But if you dont reach for it, you won’t know if you could have made it.
My footwork was clunky and I was ill spending energy because of it, but I made it to the top of my first climb and a sense of pride kicked in.
I. may actually know how to do this!
But I was already physically tired and cold. Never a good mix when you have problems to solve and climbs to overcome.
I was also starting to struggle with the venue. There was an AMAZING turn out for the competition, with people coming far and wide. The Centre was only open for the competition. So everyone there was there for just one thing.
The noise was unbearable and distracting at times. There were different languages, accents and pitches of voices in addition to well deserved cheers and applauses to those climber who had pulled of a good move or topped a route.
I wanted to take my hearing aids out. But instead I took myself out.
Actually I took myself and Fizz out. Outside to stand amongst the relative quiet (by comparison) busy part of London.
Fizz got to sniff the grass and investigate the lavender bushes while I got to breathe.
Breathing; all be it a fundemental to surviving is often something I forget to do when I am concentrating on a problem or a climb.
I found myself crying as I breathed in; I found myself sitting on the sandy, stony path burying my head into Fizz’s neck as she offered me reassurance. I found myself feeling rediculous.
So I stood up, dusted myself off went back inside to finish what I started. To climb !!
Thankfullly my brief departure went unnotice (or at least unmentioned) and I was able to warm myself up with a hot drink and face the climbs ahead.
It wasn’t my best performance.
And by being the only female VI I gained a gold medal (purely by default)
But although I wasn’t at my best, I did complete all of my climbs and my boulder problems. And by the end of the day I felt much better for showing up and not going up.
The troubles I have are still there and still need to be deal with, but for this competition I did go. And for that I am thankful.
Ratho is ingrained on my memory; it is where it all began; it is a place that until this weekend I had only ever been once before. But my memories of it didn’t disappoint me.
Although, sadly my sight and hearing did.
What is so special about Ratho I hear you ask?
Well…….
Ratho is the home to EICA or Edinburgh International Climbing Arena. It is where my journey REALLY began with my climbing. The date was 3rd September, 2016. Yes I did say 2016!
However, it would take until 9th September 2017 to really realise it. You see, this is the date that I made my second visit. The visit that was filled with mixed emotions, anxieties and fears. But for very different reasons.
And it is because of this that this visit where I felt much more so than ever before that I was alone.
Obviously I wasn’t literally alone; I was surrounded by 43 other paraclimbers, who included my best friend and CPC (Climbing Partner in Crime) in addition to about 400 other climbers, spectators, Scottish Mountainering and BMC staff.
But still I felt alone.
Wizz back to that date in 2016 and I found myself at my very first Climbing Competition; totally ill-prepared and in a much poorer condition to that of the climbers all around me.
But I had a rucksack full of nerves and a naive mindset that I wasn’t troubled by it. Again my CPC was there, he having not signed up to compete, he who subsequently volunteered to be a belay and judge for one of the climbs. Leaving me to face this adventure alone.
Although it wasn’t until Saturday I realised just how much I had taken that to heart and how much I needed to summon up the same courage I had had the previous year.
This year I KNEW Ratho would be different. Not physically (although yes the climbs would be set differently) but for me, One year later I now wear hearing aids, my sight has detereated even further and my physical and mental strength had changed.
The changes in my physical strength and my climbing capabilities are most definitely a positive and I couldn’t wait to push myself on the climbs. However with my sight and hearing changes, my mental state was in a questionable way.
It was such a way that I couldn’t face explaining or mentioning it to my CPC, Ratho this year held its own challenges for him, he didn’t need to deal with my Sh*t too!
You see, last year he started the competition at Round 2. So, although he had been to EICA before, he had never climbed or competed. This year is also the start of the competing calender for his son. Who has NEVER competed before and although he loves to climb has a great fear of heights.
My CPC needed to be their for himself and his son. Not me.
After all, I am a grown woman, I didn’t ‘physically’ need him there to partner me, as the belayers where also judges for the competition.
But for the first time in a very long time I found myself surrounded by familiar faces, yet standing alone.
This was my demon on Saturday, not the fault of anyone else, most certainly not my CPC’s, my other friends or even fellow competitors. It wasn’t even my ‘fault’ it was just a demon that was with me.
And one I was desperate to ditch before the competition began.
One ‘thing’ I have noticed is that I often only see (yes I know how ironic that sounds) the changes in my sight when I return to something or somewhere that I have been before, but not for some time.
On a day-to-day I don’t ‘notice’ the changes. It is when I go somewhere or go to do something I haven’t done in some time that I notice it. The main reason for this is and ‘perks’ to my sight is because the deteriation occurs ever so slightly, and the sight that I have left is so minimal that no change is ever obvious.
It is for this reason I have yet to return to my university town of Nottingham (that’s a whole other story though, for another time).
I dread being able to detect the changes. And if I am honest, I really didn’t think that in ONE YEAR Ratho could be so different. I had forgotten that although I was under the care of the audiology team, I was unaware of the exact change to my hearing. I most certainly was not aware that I would be needing hearing aids. So, it is no wonder that by changing the ‘sound’ of the venue, I inturn realised how this visually changed the whole venue too; before even adding in the confirmed deteriation I had been told of at last weeks eye clinic appointment!!!
I took myself away, I left my CPC and fellow competitors. I (guided by Fizz) escaped to the tranquility and safety of the gardens of Ratho. Being built within a quarry you end up entering the building at the top and walk down into it, meaning that the garden is almost level with the main climbing floor. There was the odd person about, but more importantly there was silence. There was birdsong, which I didn’t remember from last year. And there were great big slabs of rock to sit on.
And sit on the rock I did.
I sat and I cried.
I sat and I felt myself falling apart.
I sat and I reminded myself to breathe; to control my demon and just allow the emotion to wash over me, yet not allow it to control me.
I sat for far too long, I missed the start of the comp, I missed the group photo, but I was also able to leave the emotions that had gradually been bubbling under the surface behind in the garden. I was able to let them wash over me, but not control me.
I sat and I focused.
Sod not being able to see the faces of my friends.
Sod not being able to see the walls as clearly.
After all, I am a visually impaired climber, no one in the competition would be worrying about me; they were all too worried about themselves and their own performances. (It’s human nature and self-preservation)
So I took a deep breath and returned, plastered on a smile and ‘acted’ the confident climber; I ‘acted’ the inspirational climber with the shear stubborn nature that others had previously commented on.
A friend asked me yesterday what I saw when I looked at her face in person not by looking at a photo.
We were sat only a coffee table width away from each other, so not far from each other.
As someone who has always had poor sight (although not as bad as it is now) I have no ‘normal’ memories of sight to refer to.
I usually explain it as. I can see the shadow of your eye, but not the colour or even the white in them. I can see the darker colour of your mouth, but no detail or if you have food in your teeth.
But this doesn’t really help.
So, a quick look for an app at that App store and this is what I came up with.
In a way to improve myself I am undertaking many different forms of learning. Some is personal development, some is an education and some of it is to support my family.
One such learning is a 10 week parenting puzzle.
It isn’t a course that holds a secret instruction manual to raising children, rather it looks at ways in which as adults we have to dispel our own learnings as a child, to move past it and to understand ourselves better to support our children.
As the weeks have added up, the inner-termole of the course content has began to take an effect. This teamed with counselling I have been undertaking to support me and help me with my anxieties and depression…… Has been giving me plenty to think about.
It has been commented (not as a critisism, more an observation) that I have become quieter as the weeks have rolled on. The group I am in are very understanding and supportive towards everyone.
This week we were given an extra book. “The huge bag of Worries” by Virginia Ironside. It is a beautifully illustrated children’s book, yet one that is also written for adults too.
As part of our group, those leading us asked if one of us would read the book to the group.
A quick flick through the pages and I heard my voice before my thought had caught up
I’ll read it.
The intakes of breath were audible and noticed by others. You see, I am an educated woman, I have a passion for reading, it is just my sight that doesn’t always play along!
Being a book to be read to and read by children; the type was larger, clearer and only briefly obscured by the illustrations behind.
I took a deep breathe and began to read.
I enjoyed the book. I felt myself giving the characters tone and passion as the punctuation implied.
I felt saddened momentarily when it ended. I closed the book and placed it on my lap.
I felt touched by the story; I felt that the story was so much more than a ‘children’s book’ it meant something.
I had also done something that I hadn’t done for many, many, MANY years.
I had read aloud to people other than my children.
You see, this is not just a little thing. This is a MASSIVE thing. I feel anxious reading, not because I dislike it, (far from it) more because I fear that I will miss words, not see them; especially in a children’s book, where the words can wrap around and over the pictures.
For someone who loves to read, yet faces my own worries over the act of reading. It felt like it was a truly enlightening moment. One that will hopefully stay with me for many years to come.
I have since ordered my own copy of the book, shared it with friends on Facebook and am looking forward to reading it to my own children.
You see, it isn’t the reading that’s the issue. It’s the seeing the words.
When your climbing partner in crime suggest meeting him from work for an evening of climbing, what is a gal to do?
Other than to find out where the closest coffee shop is, and how you can get to it. As it would be an evening of climbing, the ‘have dog will travel’ attitude was altered to ‘have cane will travel’.
Train journey, easy, no problem.
Bus journey, not so easy, but still no problem.
Hedge End (where the CPiC works) has a tiny train station, yet within a short distance there are mammoth superstores of every possible concept. While other coffee places are available, I set my sights on hitting Starbucks, mainly because it has a simple pull up and park location right next to the motorway junction in the direction of Calshot.
Which in fact meant that it had a ‘quirky’ navigation on Google Maps.
The bus stop is placed directly outside the station, the bus was scheduled to tie in with the train arriving. Pure brilliance!
The bus however did not have an audio-visual display. It did have an incredibly friendly and happy to help driver, who ensured me he would notify me of my stop.
So off we went……. And sure enough, the driver true to his word, told me when we had arrived at my stop, he even explained the direction I needed to walk to arrive at Marks and Spencer’s (the major store that afforded its own bus stop!). He also waited until he had ensured I was walking in the right direction before continuing with his journey.
Only; I didn’t want to go the Marks and Spencer’s. I wanted Starbucks. Which as the crow flies is directly opposite Marks and Spencer’s (near enough) Simple enough? the only issue was the great big MASSIVE road known as Charles Watts Way – A334.
And this is where I put my faith in my iPhone and Googled my way!
The directions weren’t straight forward, which made me believe that Google was aware of the size of the road and was walking me a safer way, after all how could it possible take 7 minutes to walk such a short distance (when equating walking time, it doesn’t allow for traffic, as it would if you were driving)
So, ironically. I blindly followed its route……
….. A route that saw me walk through Marks and Spencer’s and out the other side, around the outside of Sainsburys and behind it where a worker was having a sneaky cigarette.
Still my map told me to continue, so onward I went. (I must admit, had it not been a bright afternoon, I may have had other thoughts)
Across a short path and …….. BINGO……
I had found it. The reason why Google maps was telling me it was 7 minutes.
Because in front of me was a rusty cream rail, a thin metal grate on the floor and the key to crossing Charles Watts Way.
It was the ramp, that twisted around in a loose corkscrew before evolving into a long straight path with a slight gradient for several steps, before flattening out and then rising again. It was a bridge.
In the warm sun, the shadows create by the overhanging trees made it hard to make out just how simple and easy it was to navigate.
It was a time to put my trust into my cane, because with the light; the shadows cast and the uncertainty of where I was, I felt apprehensive. I needn’t have; it really was as smooth and easy as I explained it to be.
And before I knew it, I was walking across the top of the bridge, right above all the traffic queuing beneath me. And then I was back into the shadows and the long straight declining path. Turning just once, 180 degrees to walk a similar distance again before coming to a small offset railings, a quick weave and I was on the path beside that very same traffic that I had just walked over. (I didn’t hear it moving!)
A short distance ahead and I could feel the path changing, this time it was much smoother, yet paved, not tarmac as it had previously been. I couldn’t home in on much, because although the trees were cut back, their shadows were replaced by bright glaring sun.
Faithful cane soon told me I was reaching a curb edge, the tactile paving soon enabled me to place myself in the right direction, a small road across the car park and low and behold…….
Ten days ago I CLIMBED A CHEESE-GRATER: All 225m plus a little extra for good measure.
It seems so much longer than 10 days. Part of this is because my hands are shredded like they were after The Gherkin Climb, which although it was a much shorter climb that this one, it was at a time when I firstly hadn’t been climbing very long and secondly I wasn’t as physically fit as I am now.
I won’t lie, it was hard.
It was emotionally exhausting.
It was uncomfortable.
And almost a hard slap in the face to how differently I could see and hear inside the climbing centre. So much so that at one point mid-climb that found me 2/3rds of the way up a wall I strategically removed and dropped my hearing aids into the awaiting hands of my climbing partner.
During the climb we had the additional media of not one but two GoPro (like) pieces of recording equipment. We took lots of footage, we shared ‘live’ videos on Facebook during the challenge. We do however have a fair amount of editing to do before we can share the ‘helmet’ footage or even the footage I didn’t realise was recorded.
This editing is only to remove some of the ‘colourful language’ used, we also have to mindful of copyright on music that was being broadcasted in the background!
It is coming together though, there is some fantastic footage of both myself and Simon my climbing partner accessing and defending the wall. Simon even talked through descriptively on his final climb!
The support, emotionally, encouragingly and financially have been higher than I ever expected.
At the time of writing this post, HelpTeeHear had raised £900 online and a further £100 off-line. That is One-Fifth of the total hoped for.
So for now, I say thank you; THANK YOU; thank you.
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