Climbing last night was fun. I finally started paying attention to the marked routes, instead of just grabbing whatever I could. I started to appreciate how important the legs can be to getting you up; I've been relying too much on my arms. I can understand the importance of momentum and the mechanics and timing of a reach and some other things that I don't really have the vocabulary to articulate. I got further than I have on some routes, and not so far (now that I'm limiting myself to the marked hand and footholds). I remain fascinated and smitten by the pasttime.
I got some help from a guy I know who seems to be at the rock gym quite often. He's little and wiry and built for this, and watching him traversing the bouldering course is lovely. There's something of a social scene at the rock gym and he appears to be an insider for sure. He's too cool for school. There seem to be a number of people hanging around the rock gym who are too cool for school. I don't particularly like it. It makes me feel self-conscious trying stuff and falling short, feeling enthusiastic despite being a rank novice, puzzling around with my carabiner, gaping with wonder at the cool moves I'm seeing other people do. Meanwhile all these slouchy, sinewy, deliberately unkempt guys and girls are doing amazing things all with this careful air of not particularly caring that much or trying that hard. Didn't we get over that in high school? We're grown ups now. It's okay to show enthusiasm.
P.S. How soon until my veins are popping out of my forearms, anyway?
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