Washing The Rope

Bucket List; Do you see a theme developing? I re-ignited a passion yesterday and so started forming another idea for the list. Saving that for my century post.

Yesterday I climbed for the first time in nearly a year (down from 1-4 times a week) and as I was standing at the wall (climbing gym to you dang foreigners) I experienced a very strong feeling of returning and belonging.

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People have oft remarked how egalitarian the climbing fraternity is yet I had never really felt it. Yesterday I really felt it for first time, and it was great. No one gave a tiny, eensy little shit about me, what grade I climb, how I got there, my injuries and illnesses, how I spoke, what I was wearing or how I came to be back there. Anything at all. I was a climber amongst other climbers, end of. It was great.

I can only really spot one difference and that is between the folks who do it and the folks that are playing at doing it. Which is cool as we all start somewhere. They are like the ab-initio addicts taking their first hit. It’ll do it for them and they are in or they’ll hate it and not come back.

A chum that I had got into climbing very kindly took me back, patiently belayed me as I got pumped super-fast, fingers failed and generally I tried to climb what my mind was able but my body guffawed at. A legend in my own mind? Yup. It’ll come back though, I know it. Time to clean my gear and start perusing Climbapedia for destinations for the summer.

I sit here with my bread dough rising (new sourdough starter and new recipe – I WILL make decent bread before I kark it) feeling all the familiar aches of neglected muscles re-awakened.

And I am smiling.

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They warned about this

Heroin-2D-skeletal

Not blogged for a while and tasted the drug again yesterday. Think I am back on it now. They warned about this in rehab. I blame the tactile new Mac that is so pleasant to type on. I’ll be fine. I can handle it. Jusssst a little more typing and…there. Aaaahhh. Check out the screen. It is so….groovy maaaan.

 

I won’t need anymore for the next 12, no 24, hours because I have this under complete control. It’s perfectly harmless if you can control it. And I can. No typing for the hell of it. Oh no, not here. No Siree Bob. It is totally under my control.