I am a rock, I am a climber.

For some time I have been meaning to hit up the South Metro YMCA for some rockclimbing. It seemed like a fun, non-mind-numbing-elliptical-boredom way to get some excercise. When my friend Allison and I made our way over there last night, we had no idea what we were in for.

The Walls.

[Far right where the two ladies are was where we trained. Just pretend it's us.]

First, they give you a near 30 minute lesson [which they swore would be "quick" - was not - perhaps because Allie has "knot issues"] to teach you how to belay each other while you climb the near 30 foot walls that go in, out, crooked, sideways, and upsidedown. Wesley, our instructor, taught us how to make figure 8 knots by "making an alien, then choking and poking the alien". This sounded a little pervy to me, but in the name of safety, I was down for it. He taught us how to tie ourselves in so we wouldn't crash to our doom, and how to hold on to the rope from the ground so that we wouldn't be the cause of our friend crashing to their doom.

I really had no inkling in my mind that Allie and I would almost immediately be skilled enough to put each others lives in our hands. But, we did. Squeamish and slightly terrified, we set out on our climb.

[I swear we went up higher than this. We just couldn't belay each other and also take pictures.

Would have clearly been defying our carefully explained safety rules.]

Traversing.

ANTM What.

Climb on, Allie D.

Hello little Spider Monkey. No, your butt does not look wide.

Before we knew it, we had spent almost two hours go in, out, crooked, and sideways, but never upsidedown. Allie even made it to the top. [My attempt was interrupted by me looking down, shaking my head "no, no further", to which Allie responded "Just don't look down." Too late.]

Definitely considering becoming a climber.