So now that I live someplace that I can actually climb without driving for a half hour, I'm back in the gym trying to get strong again. As my hands redevelop the once-prevalent calouses, my forearms maintain a steady pump, and my fingers feel stiff from the amount of pressure that comes from crimping down on holds no larger than my fingernails, it feels good to hurt, to focus my mind, and to move and try to be fluid in all of my moves. Climbing now feels more like a dance to me. I don't care so much about how good of a climber I am on the V-scale, rather, I desire to climb stuff that's higher than 12 ft off the ground.
Basically, I want to lead. I want to climb high, to be scared, to look down and know that if I make a mistake, it'll be many feet before the belayer arrests my fall. I find myself craving those moments where all that matters is you and the rock.
So I'm really looking forward to this year. Classes start tomorrow, and I'm so ready to have something to do besides be an RA. Climbing today was a much needed break, and I got out to Boulevard Park to do some slacklining as well.
Oh, Bellingham, how I love thee!.
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