I haven’t climbed enough to be very good, and tonight, let’s be honest, I didn’t climb that well at all. As far as it being the 5th or 6th time I’ve climbed ever (over the past 10 years), I shouldn’t be too disappointed. However, I definitely did better when we went two months ago (exactly, according to my belaying card).
Pretty sure I’m going to be sore tomorrow, and the tensile strength in my hands is significantly diminished, but I’m still irked about the 5.8 that got the best of me.
Although by the next time, the routes will probably have changed again. I’m really crossing my fingers for a spring weekend trip to the location pictured. There’s a bit more of an adrenaline rush when you’re climbing outside. I remain petrified of the sensation of falling, but it’s amazing how far you find yourself able to ascend without even needing the rope.
My hair is in that un-lovely state in which chalk and sweat and the everyday wear-and-tear of life have made the prospect of a shower tomorrow morning blissful.
Lately I’ve been contemplating buying my own pair of climbing shoes. I can find them for a pretty good price on some gear websites…but all the same, my budget “extravagances” are pretty limited to eating out.
I wish I could find something that I’m passionate enough about to actually devote resources (like money) toward. I’m so much more of a dabbler; I can do a lot of things kind of well, or at least well enough to get by. Climbing, wakeboarding, snowboarding, ice skating, photography, writing…
(However, please note that the well-known sports of running, volleyball, basketball, etc…do not mesh well with me. I often manage to fail somewhat brilliantly at those).
Maybe it’s okay to just try out a lot of different things? But I feel like a time should come when I pick one or two and pursue them to the point of excellence. Or maybe I’m afraid that said excellence is unattainable, and so I’d rather endure mediocrity than risk potential failure. Hmm. Interesting.