It was really strange walking a couple of minutes down the road from my house and telling myself that I was, indeed, about to compete in a World Cup. There were no flights, hotels, trying to find the right food, etc. Just warming up at the Climbing Works on familiar blocs.
On Saturday I felt really good. I topped 4 blocs in 5 goes to qualify in 14th, my best qualification. Also, I hadn't expended much energy as I hadn't had to have too many goes. Despite this, I felt knackered on getting home to rest for the semi-final. I often get some sore muscles, but don't normally feel so physically tired. I thought nothing of it as I was resting as planned, so much so I had a kip.
Sunday started ok. I felt alright as I started to warm up. I felt a bit sluggish as I started to pull harder "almost ready to compete, just getting the muscles firing" I thought.
Then I started the semi-final - I think. I could see what to do, it didn't look too far to the flying saucer from a rolling pop from that 'orrible fin. I didn't pop, roll or gain height, I just climbed onto the fin for some reason and hung there. Arghhh. It continued - pop to the volume from these ok holds, gurn, dangle. Friendly-ish looking lock to the bonus, wilt. Bridge to the bonus, slither.
I came 20th in the World Cup. I should have been pleased, but I was bitterly disappointed because I knew I was capable of so much more. I was capable of getting more than nothing in that round. I wanted to cry but friends, colleagues and acquaintances were congratulating me. Thank you home crowd, for being so good to me.
I've never known such a 'high gravity' day. Time to analyse why and avoid repeats.
