Winter in Andalusia!
I’ve heard a few people say this is the wettest winter they’ve experienced in Spain.
So our plans for a winter at Villanueva del Rosario were thwarted by what I’ve heard a few people describe as the wettest winter they can remember, but this gave us the opportunity to check out the awesome crag at Otiñar near Jaen.
I picked up a frustrating shoulder injury in October which forced my longest break from climbing in 4 years but Otiñar was perfect for getting back into the swing of things with a bunch of steep jugging.
I’ve done A LOT of projecting in the last few years so it was a nice change (doctor’s orders - Chris at @Moveclinic ) to do a bit of volume for a change and climb a bunch of routes in a go or two. By mid January I felt able to push a bit harder on the shoulder and so it was pleasing to combine that with some advanced drying tactics and a decent chunk of luck to get up a couple of classic slightly harder ones too.
Injuries suck. I’m still having difficulty with the shoulder which is a stark reminder to me how lucky I’ve been for the last few years to avoid any major injuries, but also a reminder to maintain the strength/stability training off the wall, which is really easy to let slip when climbing outside most of the time.
1. Otiñar
2. “Sex After Climb” 8c
3. Source of fleas
4. Local climber
5. @weebitwindy last move of “Lagunas Mentales” 8a+\b
6. “In case of plague we recommend not to climb”
7. Late stage shoulder rehab “Momento Payaso” 8b+
8 - 14 The south…
2 months, one route…Uncut of Kerrin doing the crux start boulders of Nordic Flower in Flatanger last month.
After 8 weeks of full commitment, this was the first time she linked both boulders.
And then she took it to the top - an hour of physicality away!
It was one of the most impressive feats I’ve witnessed in rock climbing.
It’s already October. Perfect. No time to overthink.
I’m kicking off the Scared and Doing It Anyway October Mission: 30 days of showing up, doing the thing that scares you, and learning that fear isn’t a stop sign—it’s a signal.
CTA: Comment 👊 if you want the free Scared and Doing It Anyway Mission PDF—your 30-day guide to fearless action.
Ego – When we can’t be “great,” we walk away
Here’s a hard truth: many athletes don’t stop because they fall out of love with their sport — they stop because their ego doesn’t know how to exist without being impressive.
If you’re not winning, sending, performing — who are you?
The ego is a master of self-preservation. It shields you from failure and shame by whispering: “Better to quit now while you are ahead”.
It feels like protection, but it’s really fear — fear that without results, you’re not enough.
So we swallow the line: “If I can’t be great, why bother?”
But that’s not love of sport — that’s a need to be seen. A dead giveaway that your worth has been built on performance, not presence.
That’s self-worth contingent on performance: the belief that you only matter if you achieve. Seductive, but fragile. When results drop, so does your sense of self. The ego rushes to protect you: “Quit now, before anyone sees you fail.”
Psychologists call this identity foreclosure — when all of who you are collapses into what you do. And when that role slips, so does your foundation.
That’s why so many athletes bail before they have to face it.
But quitting doesn’t heal that wound. It cements it. Ego slams the door on what your sport could still mean to you, beyond achievement.
And that’s the tragedy: you miss the second game — the one built on adaptability, humility, and a whole different kind of grit. Showing up not to prove, but to participate, connect, explore. That’s how identity rewires. That’s how you prove to yourself you’re more than performance and it’s worth more than any medal or score.
Dropping the ego stings. But ten years from now? The deeper sting will be knowing you could’ve kept going — and didn’t.
Ego says: quit while you’re ahead.
Psych says: your worth was never on the line.
Life says: stay in the game.
Staying in the Game: The Psychology of Ageing as an Athlete
Incoming: The truth about ageing and athletic performance — and why your mental game matters more than your birth date.
A deep dive into the mental side of ageing as an athlete — what changes, what stays, and how to keep pushing when it’s easier to quit.
Ageing changes how your body plays the game. But the bigger battle? It’s in your head. The psychological hit can be harsher than a torn tendon: the creeping doubt, the ego bruises, the slow dissonance of your internal self-image and external recognition.
We don’t talk enough about that. About what happens when your core identity starts to stretch, blur, or slip away under the weight of physical change. When you catch yourself wondering, “Who am I if I’m not the one sending hard or running marathons?”
Research shows that when athletes tie their identity—and thus self-worth—solely to performance metrics, any decline can trigger a profound identity crisis. This isn’t just disappointment; it’s a neurological and psychological challenge that impacts motivation, mood, and behaviour.
In this series, we dig into the psychological challenges of ageing in sport:
• The grief response to losing physical capabilities.
• the perceived drop in competence that unsettles motivation and belonging
• The ego’s defense mechanisms that push you to quit before decline can prove you’re not at your peak.
• the self-schema clash between who you were and who you are now
• The science-backed strategies to build a bigger, more resilient identity—one that thrives even when the numbers dip.
Drawing from sport psychology and neuroscience, this series offers a game plan to help rewire your sense of self—not as a fixed performance output but as a dynamic, evolving identity. The goal: stay connected to your sport, stay adaptable, and keep showing up.
The goal: stay in the arena—keep moving, stay connected, and hold on to the purpose sport gives you. Those are the real wins.
It only stops when you do.
Meet Rufus – Your Inner Critic (And Professional Vibe Killer)
You know that voice that shows up right before you try something hard?
The one that mutters, “You’re not ready,” “You don’t deserve to be here,” or, “Everyone’s watching—don’t screw this up”?
Yeah. That’s Rufus.
Your inner critic.
Master of worst-case scenarios and unsolicited performance reviews.
Weirdly, he means well.
He’s trying to protect you—from failure, shame, social exile.
But the problem is—Rufus doesn’t know the difference between a real threat and a mildly uncomfortable situation. He reacts the same way whether you're being chased by a bear or just trying a climb that's a bit above your pay grade.
So he freaks out. Loudly.
🧠 Enter Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT).
Instead of trying to shut Rufus up (which never works), ACT teaches us to separate from that mental noise using cognitive defusion.
One of my favourite ways to do that? Personify it.
Give your inner critic a name. A voice. A character.
Suddenly, it’s not you who’s scared—it’s just Rufus having a meltdown in the passenger seat.
Or maybe it’s Nervous Nigel.
Catastrophe Carla with her doom playlist.
Pirate Panic with his full-blown PowerPoint of Why This Will Go Badly.
Once you cognitively defuse from your thoughts - you can step back.
You get space. Distance. Perspective.
That tiny shift? It changes everything.
It turns Rufus from a dictator into background noise.
Let him ride along.
But he doesn’t get to drive.
Next time that voice pipes up?
👀 Call Rufus out.
“Thanks for your concern, Rufus. But this isn’t life or death—it’s just a warm-up.”
Special thanks to @prudenceemw for the mad video skills!
Sandbag Kilter Board Grades
Here’s why ego bruises are good for you --> Psychological Immunity
You climb grade X—but not all Xs are created equal.
Some you crush.
And some? You swipe “next” the moment you see that hold. Or a jump. Or a gaston.
Too weird. Too hard. Too ego-threatening. Swipe.
But here’s the truth:
Every time you dodge discomfort and swipe next, you’re not avoiding failure—you’re weakening your psychological immune system.
Think of it like this:
Your mental resilience works just like your physical immune system.
Live in a germ-free bubble?
The second you step outside, the first cold knocks you flat.
Your mind is the same.
If you only climb in your comfort zone bubble—never fall, never flail, never let your ego take a hit—then the first challenge, criticism, or struggle is going to feel like a full-body meltdown.
Psychological immunity is built through exposure; to stress, discomfort, and letting yourself suck without swiping that discomfort away.
So next time a problem on the board slaps your ego….
Don’t “next” it.
Earn your psychological antibodies and be uncomfortable for a bit.
💥 Fail.
💥 Flail.
💥 Fall.
Then come back stronger and more resilient.
Si quieres esto en español avísame..
There are moments when I struggle to take action, even if it’s something I really want to do. Maybe it’s signing up for a course. Maybe it’s applying for that job. Maybe it’s speaking up in a meeting, starting a new project, or reaching out to someone for help. I might initially feel excited about an opportunity, but then the doubts and fear creep in.
What if it’s too hard? What if I fail? What if people judge me? Maybe I don’t deserve to try it. My brain starts looking for an escape—maybe I shouldn’t do it, maybe I should stay in my place, not get ahead of myself, be content with what I already have.
Introducing The Just Game
When this happens, my go-to strategy is what I call The Just Game. The "Just Game" is a great way to bypass fear-driven overthinking and make action feel more possible. Instead of thinking about the whole challenge, I break it down into the smallest, least intimidating steps.
The Power of "Just"
The key is to shrink the task until it feels easy, breaking it down into steps until I find one that feels completely manageable. Adding the word 'just' before the action makes it sound trivial, which helps take the pressure off. It also gives me an out—I only have to do this one small thing, and that doesn’t feel so scary..
• I’m just going to write one sentence.
• I’m just going to send one email.
• I’m just going to put on my shoes.
• I’m just going to walk into the room.
• I’m just going to take a deep breath and start.
The Psychological Trick: Momentum
Most of the time, if I can I get started, I just keep going because momentum and action overtake my overthinking fearing brain.
So when fear creeps in, I remind myself to play The Just Game—I don’t have to do it all, just do this one small thing.
