Well, I had told myself I was getting two holds higher than I did before, which was four holds higher than I got on Sunday, and then I managed that and felt good, so I got one more higher, and tried for the next and came off--but by then I could see how to get to the hold after that, so I got towed back to the wall and made it up a few more--reader, I used a heel-hook, and it worked--first time in my climbing career--and then came off again. And got back on and came off one more time but by then I was one hold from the top and I was going to finish it if it killed me.
It didn't kill me. Clipping the quickdraw on the way down, on the other hand, very nearly did. I was amazed at how strong and balanced I felt for parts of the climb, and how easily I made some moves that felt absolutely terrifying.
By then, I had given myself a coughing fit from the sheer anaerobic output required, which persisted (off and on) until I got some hand got some mint tea with honey in me.
But I did also climb a new 5.9 (balancy, on an arrete, and I was actually quite surprised at how secure some of the very sketchy moves felt), and then I climbed and downclimbed an old standby 5.6 and finished off on another easy one on the skywall.
I am totally psyched. I feel like I may have actually learned something. Maybe I am finally starting to learn to climb.
With a little luck, I'll be able to drop some weight this winter, which will make those pesky overhangs much, much less miserable. (It's amazing how much you can feel any given five pounds when you are hauling it up twenty feet of overhang.)
Also, two cute boys hugged me as I was leaving. All in all, a banner day.