The Hollow Woman

Two weeks ago I got back from Font, where I scarcely did any climbing. Since then I was entirely occupied by a project for uni and subsequently I got the death flu that’s going around. This meant that I didn’t eat a full meal or sleep for a complete night in two weeks.

I finally dragged myself back to the wall and had the worst session I could ever imagine. It was so bad that I actually considered giving up completely. I felt as though the simplest moves were impossible and my body just ached.

I can’t blame it all on being ill. Yes, my rubbishness was exaggerated by being ill, but even worse I think that’s where I’m headed. I’ve lost quite a bit of strength through not regularly climbing. My course has been taking up a ton of time, as I thought it would and I have exams in exactly a month’s time, so I won’t be able to devote any time to climbing until afterwards. But will it be too late.

While I was floundering on the easiest stuff I couldn’t help but think about how difficult it would be to get back to where I was, let alone better. For the first time, I felt as though I didn’t know if it would be worth it.

I guess I always had in the back of my mind, no, I’m not good, but I can get a bit better. That has completely gone and along with it my motivation. I don’t take kindly to bimbling. I think it’s a waste of time. I have never climbed ‘for the fun of it’ (or at least not as an ultimate goal). Climbing is an all out battle. It exists only in those moments of complete intensity and sharpness, pushing - no willing myself to do what I cannot. For the moment that’s out of the question.

And to add to the joy, my shoulder is a mess from writing all the time.

Argh…

And just for Peter - here's your link ;-)