With that in mind, I recognise I need to get a bit of a run up and point the damn bobsled in the right direction.
No point in slowing down, and if I get too safe I'll run the risk of suffocating in mediocrity. However, I do acknowledge that the course of this old pirate ship needs to be properly navigated to prevent my enthusiasm wrecking me on the rocks.
I'm also acknowledging it's getting harder to get the results I'm desiring, be it power or flexibility. I'm either going to have to dig deep, or reset my focus. I do feel I sometimes put too much pressure on myself. There is definitely a desire to leave some sort of mark on this scene I love.
I think I have an Inkling of what course to plot, and it mainly seems to involve wandering around in wellies looking for blocs.
Yesterday was a case in point.
In need of an outlet for festive angst, I headed once more to wilds of the gwynant. My initial thoughts were to actually go bouldering, however, once more Welsh connies were against me. Nonetheless, the wild didn't disappoint.
Freed from the pressure of actually finding something to climb, I relished the hunt. In classical Welsh tease fashion, there was a lot of nearly not quite; too small, too easy, too death a landing. There was enough to keep me keen..
So I have a lot of following up to do. I feel like taking company up here, hopefully there is enough to tempt my jaded friends.
Nadolig Llawen and all that.
I feel there is something special just over the horizon.