Hard work

Went beginner indoor rock climbing today, signed up for a one month membership, and after a few rounds of 5.6, found out that I have muscles that sorely need to be used. There is something profoundly philosophical, or productive (I forget which), about risking your limb and life to spend your evening in the happy pursuit of clinging, slipping, and jumping from one fake rock to another on a dirty wall; or directing all your energies to climb and conquer a glum, grim, unfriendly rock that mostly wants to be left alone with its salamander or goat, only to come down on your butt with your arms scraped and your legs in noodles. Whhooo… I’m rockin’ out maaan! In any case, it was difficult to keep my chin and rocker up, and walk a brave, hard, rugged man’s walk, with wispy little nymphs all around me, pretty and in pairs too mind you, nonchalantly tackling 5.11s and 5.13s. I normally pride myself on making a good, and if not good, at least neural and not entirely unpleasant, impression on the deadly species; but what with my flailing around like a headless chicken against the fence, and my handy harness all the way up my goofy shorts and into my butt, and no doubt the stupidest expression of helplessness you might have ever witnessed written all over the mug, I managed to turn myself into a repulsing machine of no ordinary caliber, sending women scrambling in every possible direction, and driving them up the wall with every little eye-contact. You might try to cheer me up by pointing out that they might have had a lot more experience in hard mounting, but I am a spent man tonight, whatever your efforts, and can only hope to rock myself to sleep.