I’m not sure what’s going on with me, but I’m perfectly happy traversing. I need to get vertical again, though. Part of it is that I’ve gained weight since last year and haven’t taken a good fall since then. I know the remedy for that is to take some practice falls, but I don’t want to hurt myself in the process. I can see it now. My climbing buddies asking what the cast or brace is about, like I have a great war story about how it happened and me saying proudly, “Nah, just a practice fall.” Talk about a non-starter of a conversation!
I think we’ve all succumbed to some real fears this last year, but also to some imagined ones. I know it’s been a long, hard year for me, and I haven’t been able to do what I love. It’s taken a huge toll on my mental health. I’m sure it’s not just me, either. I have to overcome the idea that I’m not invincible…again. I had three great years of climbing before getting hit head-on by a driver who was under the influence of multiple substances. I broke my wrist, among having other injuries, but that put me in a thumb spika cast for six weeks. That was a miraculous healing because the doctors all said the scaphoid bone never heals on it’s own. The aftermath, though, was still devastating to my climbing progress. My wrist, though healed, will never be the same. I had to overcome the loss somehow, and I had come a long way when the pandemic hit. Another year without my passion in life. It’s been five years since my first climb, but I’ve only been able to climb for three and a half years of the five. Three and a half great years, I must remember. It takes time. I’m not the most patient person in the world when it comes to digression, and I feel like I should be a better climber in better shape than I’m in right now. Life happens, though. Just keep climbing!