Wary that my participation in sport prior to joining London 2012 was negligible save for cycling and wildly athletic dancing in dodgy nightclubs, I had signed up for an introductory lesson, with Julie, who is really good at it; she informed us from the outset that this was not so much a lesson in climbing, but a lesson in not falling. To be precise an introduction to belaying. Essentially this is a combination of one person up the wall, the friend on the ground, and nothing but rope and friction between the climber and a face full of crash mat - or for that matter a face full of friend. Being with the best friend made this an easier exercise, as I would trust him with my life, and thus we scaled fearlessly skywards, him more fearlessly than me and me more graceless than he.
Tackling the wall:
I had thought that being 6 ft 5" would be a genetic aid. But the temptation to over stretch the hand and leave nowhere for the feet resulted in several fraught moments swinging as if falling, and yet not, thanks to the best friend and his watchful eye. From the squeals of fear emanating from other group members, before a foot had left the ground, I can only surmise some deeply held trust issues. For me a fantastic day at something new, I highly recommend indoor climbing - which is a mere foothold from outdoor climbing, in Spain, which must be even better.
Mmm, difficult heights, treacherous journeys? The joy of achievement, the need for good guidance and the safety of friends. I got to thinking (I did warn you) is it possible to survive this? And what will it take for me to do it? Could this be a metaphor for something? One thing's for sure. It's great to be here. The adventure begins.
