The Search for the Healthy Writer

Climbing GymI don’t have pictures of this.

I am aware that I should have pictures, because that is the Way of the Interwebz, but this was already a humbling experience, and the idea of being snapped in action was just too much.

Yesterday, for the first time, I went to a climbing gym.

Let me be clear, I have absolutely no desire to actually scale cliffs in the Real World.  I am not one of nature’s mountaineers.  Mountains are much bigger than I am and generally do not have friendly staff people who are designated to make sure I don’t hurt myself.  On the other hand, I’m an author, and that means I spend my life on my rear end, and have to find time, reason and motivation to exercise.

Most week days, I’m at a co-working space, and that gives me a chance to walk from my parking spot (about a mile away) to the car and back, which is great, except when the weather is bad, or I’ve had to stay  home or…or…or…

Plus it does absolutely nothing for the upper body.  So, I decided Something Must Be Done.  But what?  Because there’s no way I’m sitting in a gym pressing weights.  Because it’s boring and looks painful, that’s why.

So, I decided to try climbing walls instead.  Emphasis on _try_.  Because I didn’t get very far, either up or sideways.  And I fell.  Kind of a lot.

And yet I had fun, and I have no real idea why.  The couple of times I was actually able to move (kind of at all), were cool.  And today I am sore, but not as sore as I thought I would be, and I want to go back.  Maybe I will fall less this time.  Wish me luck!