Little Monkey

I am not a fan of heights. Or falling. And I have toothpicks for arms.

Which means that I am the perfect candidate for rock climbing.

But I figured I’d give climbing a second chance on Friday night at Climb North. Laurie and Chris were great teachers and never even laughed at me, though they really should have. Laurie is mega-pro Climbing Woman, who gets there and nonchalantly starts sprinting up the wall. And Chris is Spiderman, with some kinda insane wing-span. We kept finding him on the ceiling or in some random crevice hanging upside down.

And then there’s me, who started freaking a foot off the ground. But Laurie told me that I didn’t even have to climb high, I could just climb across, which was fabulous news. So I gingerly inched sideways the whole night, finding my confidence on tiny footholds and trying to make my toothpicks work for me.

By the end, I was bouldering across corners and attempting to hang upside down. The picture at the top of the post is pure illusion though. Don't be fooled. To my credit, Laurie did give me the greatest compliment of the night, calling me “a little monkey,” to my beaming delight. To receive such accolades from Climbing Woman was worth every little armpit strain. (Are there muscles in your armpits anyway?)

So I’ll definitely go back and maybe even belay next time. We’re hoping to get a group together on occasional Friday nights (only $10 for a few hrs) and I’m hoping to get Paul to come. Paul wasn’t about to leave the Pens game for climbing, but he did graciously volunteer to watch the kiddos so that I could be there. Now that was sacrifice. What a sweetheart. It’s a good thing Pens won.

This is Climbing Woman.

This is Spidey.