Climbing

Today on white, reaching and slipping over and over again. Try this, Chris says, Michael says. I try to follow what Angelo did, unconventional but it worked for everyone else and still no good. I just need half an inch. Then Robin with his elbow, stepping on his fingers makes it easy. I wonder sometimes, like then, how much I rely on height as an excuse for lack of talent or strength or guts. But Robin took that safety away and it was me and the heel hook, the quick pull, the desperate reach, and then the side pull, the foot-hand match, the surprisingly steady push from my heel with the right foot scrabbling to smear, reaching what was never reached before. And I have it. And one more. And I can see the next, close to reaching, but my arms are so tired, fighting the overhang so I drop off, plan for next week. I feel like I'm getting back into it, like last spring, but this time more experienced and getting stronger. One final traverse at the end of the day, shaking from the strain by the end, remembering when I could go back and forth and back and forth with such great ease. Soon.