We finally made it outside in the scorching heat and I felt at home.
Less with a bang.
More with a soft, rediscovery of a platform I’m wanting to explore in a different way than before.
For those used to writing about the weight of depression, happiness seems hard to define as something solid.
So I managed to lead one and a half routes.
Wait, one and a half?
Things I learned in Fontainebleau:
I am not good at bouldering.
I have a hilarious bouldering face.
I am really not good at bouldering.
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).