I went to the rock climbing gym for the first time ever the other day, and it was awesome. I had always wanted to go in the past, but it just really didn't come up; however, recently, it seems to have come up a few times, so I just went.
I was worried that I wouldn't be able to make it up, but it was easier and harder than I thought it would be. Easier in that as long as you can get a decent foothold and some good grips, you're fine. Harder in that if you don't think ahead, put your arms too close to your body, panic, use your arms too much, or wait to long to make a decision, you are screwed. My arms were burning, quivering, lifeless hunks of meat and bone (mostly bone) at the end of three hours.
I tried seven different climbs, and made four of them, but I was angry every time I didn't make it. Conversely, on highest wall, on the second easiest path, I made it halfway and thought I was screwed, but somehow I made it, and it was a pretty exhilarating victory; however, there were some young kids who were better than I, but they weigh seventy pounds.
I was not sore, but my limbs were tired as hell. Thursday, I'm going back, and I won't leave until I conquer at least one of the bastards that gave me too much trouble last time. I hate working out, but I like climbing stuff--this could be my new thing.
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