Over the winter break, I got a chance to chill with Rec climbing alums. The old school crowd was fully represented, spare the notable absence of Eli Powell. You can get to know this fine group of people by following their blog (click: Climbing House). It was good to get back to the wall even if I couldn't climb. When I arrived, sauntering with penguinesque sex appeal, I rushed the wall to give it a big hug. I think it hugged me back.
(PHOTO: I experience healthy foot envy as dirt bags air their feet at the bench)I still have weeks of recovery time ahead of me. Getting out of the Boot of Doom is just the first step (no pun intended). I'll have some physical therapy to gain both strength and mobility in the joint, and I have to regain some of my once-admirable calf muscle. In the big scheme of things, this injury isn't disastrous, but it has set me back. Navigating my disappointment and sense of physical captivity, relying on others for help with things I normally would do myself, and accepting limitations hasn't been easy.
I miss the people from the wall, the witty nonsense and constant conversation, so I'm eager to get back. For now, I'll focus on getting better and rebuilding strength, taking better care of myself, and trying not to scream obscenities into the universe (bad karma, at this stage, should not be courted nor gained).
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