That was a long day. On my way out to run this morning, I cleverly locked myself out, which meant that instead of running, I got to wait for the guy from the management company to come let me in. So, you know, that wasn't exactly exercise.
Then I drove out to the wilds of southeastern Connecticut to have lunch with a friend I have known since fifth grade (intermittently) and then grabbed dinner in Middletown and met The Jeff and Alisa and Tanya for climbing. Good night tonight; I only climbed three walls, two of which I've climbed before, but one was a 5.9 and one was a 5.7-, and the third was a still unrated wall I tried back in September and could not do a thing with. And this time, with a great deal of screaming and smearing and grunting, I dragged and shoved myself up it.
It's a hard wall. It's only vertical and the holds are really good, but the route is freaking barren and all the moves are really big, and they all involve lots of reaching way off center, so I keep having to hold onto a bucket at chest level and smear my way up to it so I can reach past and grab the next hold, and it's, well--really strengthy and techniquey and, well, hard.
I'm pretty proud of myself.
I wanted to go do something easy to finish the night, but The Jeff and Alisa sent me home. I have, however, posted pictures of my climbing gear here, if anybody wants to see the torture devices.
Bloody well tired now.
No writing done today, and I think I might take tomorrow off also. I'm back to the lurking by the mousehole stage of storytelling, where I wait for the book to tell me how it ends.