I can’t even believe that a few weeks ago we were able to go out bouldering, able to play around in the sunshine without freezing our fingers off. (I’m still a little scared of falling, FYI).
After months of (ongoing!) ankle recovery at indoor walls, we’ve navigated our way around the snowy Spring days and managed to find ourselves some time in the sun; time to finally test out the mountain of gear we have stashed away.
I can barely believe that back in August I was told there was a 90% chance my BONE WOULD DIE and I’d likely have fusion surgery and it would be all dramatic and terrifying and I wouldn’t walk again and my whole life would change.
A long while back I was A Vegan Adventurer, then it was A Vegan Abroad, then A Vegan Mess (all apt for the time), and now… it feels like A Vegan Adventurer is the right fit for me after all. It’s just taken a little growing into.
But when I’m on the wall, when I’m working out the next move, trying not to fall, thinking about placing my feet, my mind is free of everything else. I’m not freaking out about rejection, stressing out about my workload – none of it. It’s bliss. It really is.
“And you’ve already lost all side mobility in that ankle. That’s gone.”
Laying in a hospital bed, high on morphine, I stared at a surgeon who was explaining to me in no uncertain terms that I had FUCKED UP.
A weekend of cuteness, happiness, and shoving misogynistic boys at gigs.