No, no more tarantulas, Lindsay. You do not have to say "forget you" (Who says that, BTW? I mean, besides 11 year old girls being "bad" at church. Dude, you crack me up)
This post is about the BRC 1 class (Beginning Rock Climbing) I am taking with my Run Buddy (I still don't have a new name for her despite the fact we have not run together in well over 2 years...)
She asked me to go with her and I adore her, so I said yes. Plus, I did not have enough athletic endeavors that I suck at, so I needed to start a new one.
Mission accomplished! Because I do, truly, suck at it. (Shut up, G)
Now, it is not the actual climbing part that I am bad at. (I know, you are thinking, WTF? What the hell else is there in rock climbing besides climbing? I am getting there Ms./Mr. Impatient don't get your panties in a twist!)
Truth be told, I am kind of freakishly strong for a woman (Aforementioned "Shut up, G" still applies) I may not be the fragile, delicate flower of a woman that many find desirable, but if you need someone to schlep their end of the couch up a flight of stairs on moving day? Then I am your girl.
Because of this, I can muscle my way up the wall for pretty much any of the beginning climbs (until about 5.8, for any climbing types out there) But, as the climbs get more difficult, there is apparently technique to this rock climbing thing.
This 'technique' involves, graceful, dance-like movements as you ascend the wall.
Graceful and dance-like? Hmmm ... Not my strong suit. I have humiliated myself at enough Jazzercise and step aerobics classes in my day to know that. Which leads to exchanges between me and my instructor that sound like this:
Cute as a Button 21 year old instructor (Hereinafter referred to as CB21yo): "RBR glide to the left and open your hips away from the wall as you pull up."
RBR clinging desperately to the wall: "What the fuck are you talking about? And why do you wait until I am 20 feet up this thing to start talking to me?"
CB21yo: "What did you say? I can't hear you"
RBR, yells in perky sing song voice: "Okay, sure! No problem" *grunts, scrambles*
CB21yo: "Umm... okay. Kind of like that. Straight arms! Let your skeleton bear the weight not your biceps!"
RBR: "Ummm... simple physics, Sport. You can not pull up with straight arms!"
RBR, yells : "Okay!" *squeals as she almost slips off the fucking wall trying to simultaneously, glide, pull, open hips away from the wall, and hang on straight arms*
I actually really enjoy the class. Our classmates were all pretty shy and reserved at first, but between Run Buddy and I, we got them to be the loudest class in the gym. We cheer and clap for each other when we finish a route. (Ok, and a few wolf whistles and cat calls, since Run Buddy and I are soooo mature)
When I am not being told everything I am doing wrong from a super cute, 21 year old guy that is standing below me looking at the super UN-cute things the climbing harness is doing to my 41 year old ass, I feel kinda like spidergirl crawling up the wall.
Everyone needs to feel like a superhero once in awhile.
*Side Note: Don't worry. I promise no RBR in a full body spandex suit pictures are forthcoming. That would be way scarier than the tarantula.
17 hours ago