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bear by san

December 2021



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writing genocide

give me somewhere to fall from 'cause in the dark i can't find my feet

Well, I got past the crux of the 5.7 that is my current project wall, and I think I have actually figured out the easy and elegant way to do it. This makes me happy, because I have been working on it for Some Time Now.

Unfortunately, the rest of the wall is an overhang, and I don't yet have the strength or technique to hold myself on it. So I've got the first fifteen feet or so, and I'm just gonna have to keep pushing to get the rest. Ah well. If it were easy, it wouldn't be fun.

My smearing is getting a lot better, though. I have nice fat fleshy high-volume feet that make my life easy on the slab wall. I somehow suspect my first 5.7 will be one of the ones on the slab. There's actually at least one route on that wall that I can do in a thoughtful and organized fashion at this point, and feel very secure on the wall. Feeling secure on the wall is very awesome.

They took down all my 5.6s! All of them! Except the one that everybody in the gym including the staff agrees is really a 5.7+ or a 5.8, but they haven't relabeled it. (Actually, it might be a 5.6 if you have a lot of brute force to throw at it. But maybe not so much on technique. There is an awful lot of hauling yourself up by your hands with no footholds, however.)

Oddly enough, as if it were exercise, climbing makes you hungry.

1023 more words on the WTF story I need to write... next January. Thank you, brain. No, I'm not complaining.

But maybe consider thinking about the novel now?


My advantage right now is the big sticky feet, and I'm slowly starting to get the hang of balance and lines of force and how they work. I think I might be good at that part eventually.

And I'm flexible. As long as my balance is sound, I can get a foot up to nearly hip level and still stand up on it, which helps a lot.
You know, I cannot make the locking-out of arms things work for me yet, I suspect because I'm quite a large person. My body weight is enough to hurt my elbow joints something fierce, and my hands get tired. (My biceps are strong enough to support my body weight for a while. My hands, not so much.)

I'm glad to hear you're recovering from your illness. :-(

I have a fair amount of core strength, but the hands and fingers are killing me.
I've noticed something, actually, about exercise: Exercise makes women hungry, but for men it actually removes any hunger. Opposite effects. Men can exercise instead of eating, whereas for women it's both or neither. I always thought this was odd, but I suppose it has something to do with the differences between the types of muscle cells that are typically dominant in men (dense) vs. those those that are typically dominant in women (flexible).
Huh. I dunno. Short-term, exercise kills my appetite. But you know, in the long term, more energy out means demand for more energy in.

That works for everybody.