And no I don't mean the Pink Floyd album (although my dog is named after a Pink Floyd song, and by way of the transient property, also after the singer Vera Lynn). I got home from my 10 hour day at school (14 hour working day by the time 7PM rolled around - Mondays are brutal for me) and, for a change, didn't really want to run. I wanted to climb. I haven't touched a climbing wall in any real capacity since August. The last time I went, I was climbing at a reasonably non-embarrassing level and bouldering at a non-embarrassing level. I suck, but at least I used to suck at not-quite-beginner climbs with a semblance of grace.
But since all I've done in the past few months has been running, with an occasional day when I remember that maybe a few push-ups wouldn't be a terrible idea, I've lost any and all upper body strength I once possessed, and with it so went any semblance of that feeling of oneness and smooth muscle control one might theoretically experience on a well-executed climbing route.
Instead, I felt like one of those gawky and spazzy teenagers who shoot up 6 inches overnight and forget how to coordinatedly utilize their limbs. There was nothing sexy, or talented or smooth in my climbing last night. And sure, it'll come back in part if I can manage to climb consistently. But I also don't really care a whole lot. In a world of go-go-go, where I literally have a 3 month calendar spread of to-do note sticky notes up on my bedroom wall (2 jobs, volunteer work, 5 grad level classes, research, and 2 undergrad level classes necessitate that type of organization), climbing is an outlet where those concerns cease to exist. When my feet and hands cling tenuously to the pitiful jugs that I need to use in order to grip the wall these days, my mind blanks out entirely, except for the thought of what my next climbing move is. For me at least, climbing is an entirely brain-consuming activity that allows no room or space to think of other commitments. And I think that's something that we all could use a bit more of in our hectic and crazy lives.
But since all I've done in the past few months has been running, with an occasional day when I remember that maybe a few push-ups wouldn't be a terrible idea, I've lost any and all upper body strength I once possessed, and with it so went any semblance of that feeling of oneness and smooth muscle control one might theoretically experience on a well-executed climbing route.
Instead, I felt like one of those gawky and spazzy teenagers who shoot up 6 inches overnight and forget how to coordinatedly utilize their limbs. There was nothing sexy, or talented or smooth in my climbing last night. And sure, it'll come back in part if I can manage to climb consistently. But I also don't really care a whole lot. In a world of go-go-go, where I literally have a 3 month calendar spread of to-do note sticky notes up on my bedroom wall (2 jobs, volunteer work, 5 grad level classes, research, and 2 undergrad level classes necessitate that type of organization), climbing is an outlet where those concerns cease to exist. When my feet and hands cling tenuously to the pitiful jugs that I need to use in order to grip the wall these days, my mind blanks out entirely, except for the thought of what my next climbing move is. For me at least, climbing is an entirely brain-consuming activity that allows no room or space to think of other commitments. And I think that's something that we all could use a bit more of in our hectic and crazy lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment