3.
We already knew beforehand about our plans to go to a bouldering introduction course. My wife has been training these last few months, somewhat on-and-off but doing what she can handle, sometimes in reality, and other times in intention. Me on the other hand, not that much. I’m a sitting person doing sitting things. I go to work, walk a little bit, sometimes try to catch the bus two or three bus stops away, all well and good. But training, no, it’s not my specialty. Do I have one? Complaining in silence. I spent my Monday writing and working and wondering how the bouldering course would be. It would be great, of course! No reason not to be able to climb a short wall, I guess. I think I’ll manage given that, for some good blessing of nature, I have good upper-body strength. Were it not at the expense of my lower-body I could almost think myself a fitting human. Even in muscle distribution I am able to be a contrarian. As long as I can use my hands and shoulders, using my legs as support, I can climb at least the easiest colours. This is exactly the opposite of what should be done. Let me be very straightforward: don’t use anything you read here about physical exercise as gospel.
I arrived home and after hearing the story about how our washing machine is not working yet and the neighbours were nervous because there was a water leak that was immediately fixed before their eyes, not without the implication of panic plastered on their foreheads, I finally put the dinner in the oven and waited patiently for the meal that would give me superhuman strength to climb my way to heaven. After more lively dialogue we decided to leave. My wife usually drives because I have driving phobia and can only be summoned in situations of dire need in case someone in distress needs help. In a nutshell, if you’re dying, I’ll drive.
With GPS in hand we readied for the road trip to the klatresenter (the place of boulders). Suddenly my mother-in-law calls and the phone is busy with the GPS because the one in the car isn’t updated and we didn’t want to drive over the mountains but take the tunnels instead. I messed up the buttons because touch screens were invented for accidental taps and I’m still from the time when pressing buttons expressed intent. “I don’t want to talk with her now, “ my wife declares, “reject the call!!!!” I tried, but there wasn’t any digital red button on the screen, just a green rectangle over the GPS and a myriad of words I wasn’t able to read in passing. I just closed the window and chose to believe the call was gone. “It’s still there!!!” I tried my best to look it up but the phone wasn’t giving any sign of an ongoing call. It disappeared. I opened all the tabs and it was gone and transferred to the car’s computer. God, don’t make me describe all this because I don’t know what happened or what I did wrong. After a while, I assertively said that I wanted relaxation so we could drive safely. With call or no call it’s not like she was able to hear us, right? (She wasn’t.)
We arrived at the place and couldn’t find the right building. There was a complex of concrete blocks that housed companies and offices. We parked near the dentist practitioners. On the opposite side was a Barry’s with loud music and voices coming from the inside. It’s the place where people go for exorcisms – not our thing. After calling the klatresenter we were guided to the right place, around the complex, passing by another establishment where people have fun jumping on trampolines. I tried to shove aside all visions of nightmarish leaps of faith and broken necks. Finally at our destination, we entered the place and the reception was also a cafeteria. It was cosy and we were welcomed by two very smiley individuals and another, not so smiley one, showing signs of not wanting to be there. It was our instructor. We introduced ourselves and she asked if we wanted to start right away considering that we were early? Were we? Well, that’s a first! We told her we would wait and get ourselves ready. We used that time to grab a pair of shoes and see the place. Not a lot of people were there, everyone seemed skilled and welcoming. It was obvious we didn’t belong but I didn’t feel like I was just landing from Sirius. The relaxed atmosphere made me feel relaxed too, despite the idea of trying a new activity, something I never tried before. It wasn’t a big place with very high walls and it made me feel slightly reassured and less intimidated.
When the instructor showed up we were directed to an area with the easiest colours, where we could safely start. She gave us some tips and my wife went first, showing clear proof of courage and might. She did well, and then it was my turn. I also did well, first try, using my arms to raise my body, not entirely aware of where my legs were. I used intuition and strength. Then another time, then another. There were a lot of those easy routes, some reached higher than others and I enjoyed reaching the highest boulder and then climbing back down. The instructor told us she also prefers to climb back down instead of falling down on purpose due to the higher risk of back, knee or arm injury. However, in case we fall, it is recommended to bring our hands close to our chest and let ourselves fall. “Also, pay attention to other people climbing in the same area, especially above you, in case they fall over you.” Visions of leaps of faith and broken necks.
After what appeared to be one hour tops, my wife got tired. Her legs weren’t responding so well and she looked extremely happy but exhausted. It was to be expected as we haven’t been exercising, much less doing something like this. I could still go a little more. There was a wall where the boulders were a ways apart from each other. I pulled myself up and easily climbed it. I could safely conclude that I was ready for the easiest parts without much effort; it was only a matter of training until I was ready for higher difficulties, just like in video games. What I wasn’t expecting was the quality of my tendons in contrast with the quality of my muscles. When I looked down, a small bump on the inner side of my forearm was already showing and I was slowly feeling every connector tissue compressing against every muscular fibre inside my right forearm. I had a choice right then and there. Either I could play the hero of my story and keep climbing until I was really tired or I could go home and take care of an obvious case of inflammation and come back another day. I decided for the latter because I’m an adult, albeit imperfect.
My wife’s left arm ghosted her, and her legs were shaking when she climbed down. I didn’t notice mine were also in the same messy state although it would have been a fun sight, were I been able to select a third person view only to see my thin feet shaking like the tail of our cat when he’s angry. I mentioned what appeared to be one hour doing this. It wasn’t. We were at it for only half an hour of a two-hour course. After this extremely awkward realisation we had to say we were done. The instructor told us we beat the record of less time travelled in the boulders. People say so many things when they don’t know what to say. In any case, despite the obvious lack of a good build for the sport, we managed to climb! For 30 minutes we raised our bodies in artificial walls and didn’t fall or struggle that much! Two ladies who like reading and knitting and never leave the house did the unthinkable. I call it a win! When we arrived home, I put some ice on my swollen arm, and it worked like a charm. A few more climbs and I wouldn’t be typing silly things about myself for the internet to see. Now the pain, the real pain, will come tomorrow, or maybe not. Maybe it was just tendons and I’ll be relaxed, feeling that I used my body for something more than a vessel for a poor functioning brain.