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?
I spent the next 4 days limping.
But I can’t tell you how good it feels to have reached the top.
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).
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.
Recently, it’s been very apparent that I am stressed.
I mean, I think I am stressed quite a lot of the time actually. There’s always something a little out of the ordinary happening in my life and it’s now at the point where these out of the ordinary things have become quite ordinary.
The only difference between you and the successful version of yourself you dream about is the effort involved. Successful-dream-you has been rejected tons, but they just carried on anyway. And carrying on doesn’t have to mean being doing yoga and working full-time whilst working on side-projects and having a great social life.
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.
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.