![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Rock climbing is my new absolute favoritest thing ever.
See, various of my friends have been doing it for ages, and it always looked interesting, but in a vague sort of "That must be nice for other people" kind of way, because, frankly, it looked hard. Like something that involved a whole lot of hauling up the whole body via one's fingertips, and I was always the kid in PE who couldn't do a single pull-up on the bar. Or, in fact, even wiggle enough to make it look like I was trying, despite my best efforts, to the point that the gym teacher would yell at me for not even making an effort, while I was desperately trying to get any movement at all, because clearly since I was skinny that meant I must be good with physical stuff, right?
...not that I'm bitter, or anything. But I digress.
Anyway! Rock climbing. I went with friends late last week to a gym down south, because it did kinda sound like fun, even if I expected to be terrible at it, and because, hey, time spent with friends! In person! Definitely a plus. I got into the amazingly painful shoes, harnessed up, tried to attack a fairly easy wall (a 5.7, I think?), had some trouble... and rapidly discovered that it was personal. It wasn't a matter of having enough muscle strength to get past some bit of the wall, though having greater muscle strength would certainly help me there: it was that the wall was trying to thwart me with its trickery, difficulty, and fiendish deceit, but by god I was going to SHOW THEM ALL BACK AT THE UNIVERSITY.
Not that anyone was laughing at me, mind. My friends were utterly marvelous in shouting up helpful "There's a foothold right by your knee!" and "You can do it!" and "Just stand up!" and "Get your hips in nearer to the wall!" advice, or, when belaying me, letting me lean on the rope, panting heavily, for a while as I tried to figure out how the hell to get past some section. I was surprised by how very thinky the sport is: there's this whole interplay between "can my body do this" and "well, no, so what can I do to get into a position where my body can handle it?" going on while on that wall. (Or, when bouldering, while lying on the ground staring balefully at the wall, near as I can tell. I haven't done any real bouldering yet.)
Last night I went out again, and conquered the same course as before, which is nice; my brain is still half convinced that my ability to get to the top of one course ever was an utter fluke, unrepeatable the next time around, so I think I need to keep beating down that particular run until I can convince myself that no, really, I can do this, and I can get better at it, even. I also sort of flailed my way to the top of another trickier course, with much cursing, dangling, and cheating; I don't think I can really count that one. So far my course limit per night seems to be one: after that, I can get partway up, but just can't get through a whole climb.
Which means I need more practice. Right?
I've got a fascinating set of bruises, but unlike the first time, I can actually open water bottles without whimpering the next day. (Even sword and shield never did a number on my forearms like climbing does, though apparently learning proper stance for sword-and-board is really helpful for getting my feet pointed in useful directions on the wall.) So... improvement already!
Now I just need to work out useful transportation to various gyms, cough up for membership, coerce some more friends into climbing with me, take a proper introductory course, learn to belay so that I can swap off with friends, buy my own equipment, and make time in my schedule for multi-hour climbing sessions a few times a week. Oh, and start yoga, which should help with the flexibility.
Piece of cake, right?
See, various of my friends have been doing it for ages, and it always looked interesting, but in a vague sort of "That must be nice for other people" kind of way, because, frankly, it looked hard. Like something that involved a whole lot of hauling up the whole body via one's fingertips, and I was always the kid in PE who couldn't do a single pull-up on the bar. Or, in fact, even wiggle enough to make it look like I was trying, despite my best efforts, to the point that the gym teacher would yell at me for not even making an effort, while I was desperately trying to get any movement at all, because clearly since I was skinny that meant I must be good with physical stuff, right?
...not that I'm bitter, or anything. But I digress.
Anyway! Rock climbing. I went with friends late last week to a gym down south, because it did kinda sound like fun, even if I expected to be terrible at it, and because, hey, time spent with friends! In person! Definitely a plus. I got into the amazingly painful shoes, harnessed up, tried to attack a fairly easy wall (a 5.7, I think?), had some trouble... and rapidly discovered that it was personal. It wasn't a matter of having enough muscle strength to get past some bit of the wall, though having greater muscle strength would certainly help me there: it was that the wall was trying to thwart me with its trickery, difficulty, and fiendish deceit, but by god I was going to SHOW THEM ALL BACK AT THE UNIVERSITY.
Not that anyone was laughing at me, mind. My friends were utterly marvelous in shouting up helpful "There's a foothold right by your knee!" and "You can do it!" and "Just stand up!" and "Get your hips in nearer to the wall!" advice, or, when belaying me, letting me lean on the rope, panting heavily, for a while as I tried to figure out how the hell to get past some section. I was surprised by how very thinky the sport is: there's this whole interplay between "can my body do this" and "well, no, so what can I do to get into a position where my body can handle it?" going on while on that wall. (Or, when bouldering, while lying on the ground staring balefully at the wall, near as I can tell. I haven't done any real bouldering yet.)
Last night I went out again, and conquered the same course as before, which is nice; my brain is still half convinced that my ability to get to the top of one course ever was an utter fluke, unrepeatable the next time around, so I think I need to keep beating down that particular run until I can convince myself that no, really, I can do this, and I can get better at it, even. I also sort of flailed my way to the top of another trickier course, with much cursing, dangling, and cheating; I don't think I can really count that one. So far my course limit per night seems to be one: after that, I can get partway up, but just can't get through a whole climb.
Which means I need more practice. Right?
I've got a fascinating set of bruises, but unlike the first time, I can actually open water bottles without whimpering the next day. (Even sword and shield never did a number on my forearms like climbing does, though apparently learning proper stance for sword-and-board is really helpful for getting my feet pointed in useful directions on the wall.) So... improvement already!
Now I just need to work out useful transportation to various gyms, cough up for membership, coerce some more friends into climbing with me, take a proper introductory course, learn to belay so that I can swap off with friends, buy my own equipment, and make time in my schedule for multi-hour climbing sessions a few times a week. Oh, and start yoga, which should help with the flexibility.
Piece of cake, right?