I'm such a happy bear. Not only did tonight's Criminal Minds continue the process of renewing my faith in the show (way to deconstruct the male gaze and whiplash the UNSUB from an object position to a subject one--I will be a little late on the writups this week, I fear, as here I am with errands all day tomorrow) but I had a really good climbing night. I'm beginning to think I might be getting the hang of this thing.

I showed up a little early and did some casual bouldering and traversing, then re-sent a tricky, physically challending 5.7 thaqt pretty much pumped my forearms all by itself. Afterwards, I went to work on a 5.8 in the front room that I've had my eye on for a while, pretty much not expecting to be able to do a damned thing with it. And I sent it. Not elegantly, and not without a certain amount of falling off and dogging on the rope and cursing, but I got it. That makes my fifth or sixth 5.8. Someday I will get one clean.

Today was not that day.

Then I did a 5.7 I've done before, just for practice, and a 5.6 on the slab that's all underclings and gives me the heebie jeebies. And of course my foot slipped and I tweaked my bad ankle, but I finished it anyway, then downclimbed the easier route on the same rope. Back to taping the damned thing again. Sigh.

I'm actually starting to feel like I have some expertise at this. I mean, I'm not good at it, not by any stretch. But I am starting to feel like I'm not a rank beginner, either. A Real Climber.

The revelation that our 5.8s are like 5.9s (and not easy 5.9s) anywhere else in the country also did a little for my morale, frankly. In Texas, I can climb.