Tuesday, April 22, 2014

I can't move my arms.

That's a lie. I can move my arms, but it's painful.

Last time Leta visited me, she went rock climbing with Austin. Now she's here again, and she and Austin decided to reprise this activity--but I came along, too. I had never been rock climbing before, and I'm always apprehensive about new athletic activities as I'm not the most coordinated person on earth. However, it's a lot more fun than I thought it would be. I was able to climb to the top on the first try, which I certainly wasn't expecting (admittedly on the easiest possible level). I managed to successfully climb a few slightly harder routes, too. And the climbs on which I didn't succeed, well, that's okay. Falling off the wall is kind of fun when there's a harness.

Belaying actually made me more nervous than climbing. I'm not afraid of heights--the benefit of being raised in a town full of roller coasters--and when I'm climbing I feel like I'm only responsible for myself. If I fall it's my fault and I can deal with that. When you're belaying you're suddenly responsible for the safety of another person, and that freaks me out. But I suppose that's a good thing. Better to be nervous and alert than comfortable and careless.

Anyway, such is Leta's zealousness for contortion-at-great-heights that we went two days in a row. I'm not sure my arms and shoulders will ever forgive me. You're supposed to use your legs more than your arms, but that's easier said than done. I think I might keep going, though. It's a nice, relatively low-impact workout, and it's a much more enjoyable way to improve my complete and utter lack of upper-body strength than lifting weights. Plus, it's actually a reason to be social while working out. I normally hate exercising with other people because I do a lot of cardio and I don't want people to be smiley and encouraging while I'm sweaty and gross and feel like I'm going to fall over. But rock climbing is much slower, and you need someone else there to do the belaying, and it's really helpful to have someone beneath you suggesting places to put your feet. So I might pick up a new hobby--because I'm not busy enough, or anything.

Tonight: tiny dinner party, food prepared by the magnificent Leta who is basically good at everything and I don't know how she does it. Tomorrow: workshopping two more poems. Ack. Thursday: "O, Heart," plus a mysterious after-party. I'm never sleeping again, but who needs sleep?

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