This morning I rode over to Seattle Bouldering Project’s Fremont location, a converted warehouse full of climbing walls. It’s been at least six months since the last time I climbed, so I’d booked myself a two hour session to get myself back into it.
After 45 minutes, my hands felt like they were on fire, and on my last climb, I tore a flap of skin on the first joint of my right little finger, and that was that: no more climbing for me today. Shoulders and thighs both aching, I got back on my bike and rode home, stopping off for coffee and biscuits, before relieving my wife and taking the kids to the park.
It was a tough time; I’ve forgotten quite a bit of technique as well as losing strength. My left bicep is really sore now, and I probably don’t have the core strength that I used to. I hope those things come back quickly. More annoying is that my hands have softened enough that I’m getting injuries like this; as I’m only climbing very infrequently, it’s likely that next time I go out, I’ll have a similar injury to another of my fingers. I guess I could tape up beforehand, but that’s probably also going to end in tears …
Anyway, the rest of the day went on. The girls badgered me into buying them treats from the ice cream van, and then I wore them out by walking them to a friend’s house to play. Everyone went to sleep, I watched a disappointing zombie film (The Night Eats The World) and that was Sunday. Onwards!