climb and punishment

The city rec center, where I do my indoor body maintenance, has a surprisingly nice climbing wall, and I finally managed to show up during their belay-test period so I could get "certified" to use the thing. Since I was already there, afterward I just hung out (geddit?) and continued to climb for another hour.

Of course, I haven't climbed anything other than the mast, which doesn't count, for four years. In the back of my mind I was thinking, "you're going to regret this tomorrow, sucker," but it was SO FUN!

It's tomorrow, now. And owie owie owie, do I regret it. Not my forearms, which are surprisingly pain-free, nor even my shoulders, which feel about like they do after a tough day on the weights, but my lower back, which is owie owie owie. I guess the good news is that I still have the technique, that I'm using my whole body and not just ape-hanging . The bad news is that I clearly don't still have the muscles. And I just know it's going to hurt worse tomorrow.

into the void

Well, I finished the article on boat wiring (yes, boat wiring) and have just crossed my fingers, knocked on wood, knocked back a glass of wine, and emailed it and sundry illustrations to the editor of Good Old Boat. She liked the query, but all their submissions are on spec, and I haven't submitted any actual articles to them yet, so now I get to wait for the big thumbs to go up or down.

I always feel like I'm consigning my soul into the void when I do this. Or putting one of my vital organs on a little paper boat and floating it down the river.

Plus, now I have nothing to do.

Must write more queries, must finish that essay, must stop bouncing off walls.

Maybe another glass of wine...