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Rule 1: Pay attention
Apr. 18th, 2009 05:59 pmSo, it turns out I could've killed - or at least seriously damaged - someone last night at the climbing wall. The fact that I didn't is to be counted not to my credit, but to serendipity.
Around half seven - I'd been climbing since five, having eaten only lunch and a doughnut all day, and on the onset of menstruation - I was belaying B, one of the older guys who occasionally climbs on Friday night. I was taking in slack a bit too casually, and at the moment I lifted my arm to take in, he came off the wall. I'm not used to belaying people who are as heavy as or heavier than me, and the jerk, combined with the elasticity of the rope, dragged my right hand into the teeth of the belay device. Because my mind wasn't entirely on the job, I let go.
He was only two metres up, so no harm done. But I swear, I will be paying much more attention when I'm tired from now on.
Apart from the frightening demonstration of the possibility of doom coming to others through my incompetence, yesterday was a good day. My grant came through, so I replaced my Seriously Dead climbing shoes with a pair of Red Chili Spirits with velcro straps. (They're red, and the dye leaks off onto my feet and makes me look diseased, but they're a really nice shoe.) I also ordered a rope, so's I can lead indoors at my own leisure.
Actual climbing included two 6As and one 6A+; to the second last move of another 6A+, and to the crux but no further, punishingly, of a 6B. On the fourth attempt. There were two further attempts at different 6Bs, wherein the crux was not reached. And finally, a 5 and a 4+, which I made a dog's dinner of, on the slab, before I dropped B and it was made clear to me that food and sleep were perhaps more necessary than optional for safe operation of climbing equipment.
Today, the sun is shining. And the parent dragged me out for a four-mile walk after breakfast, so there will be no running this evening, and quite possibly no work, if I don't wake up soonish.
There might, however, be pizza. Because while the enfridged shepherd's pie is all well and good, I have marvellous strange government moneys in my bank account for a short time yet, and I might be extravagant and have take-out for a day.
(Once I pay for the Silchester training, I'll be back wheedling dinner out of the parent. So I might as well enjoy my tenner of spending money while it lasts.)
Around half seven - I'd been climbing since five, having eaten only lunch and a doughnut all day, and on the onset of menstruation - I was belaying B, one of the older guys who occasionally climbs on Friday night. I was taking in slack a bit too casually, and at the moment I lifted my arm to take in, he came off the wall. I'm not used to belaying people who are as heavy as or heavier than me, and the jerk, combined with the elasticity of the rope, dragged my right hand into the teeth of the belay device. Because my mind wasn't entirely on the job, I let go.
He was only two metres up, so no harm done. But I swear, I will be paying much more attention when I'm tired from now on.
Apart from the frightening demonstration of the possibility of doom coming to others through my incompetence, yesterday was a good day. My grant came through, so I replaced my Seriously Dead climbing shoes with a pair of Red Chili Spirits with velcro straps. (They're red, and the dye leaks off onto my feet and makes me look diseased, but they're a really nice shoe.) I also ordered a rope, so's I can lead indoors at my own leisure.
Actual climbing included two 6As and one 6A+; to the second last move of another 6A+, and to the crux but no further, punishingly, of a 6B. On the fourth attempt. There were two further attempts at different 6Bs, wherein the crux was not reached. And finally, a 5 and a 4+, which I made a dog's dinner of, on the slab, before I dropped B and it was made clear to me that food and sleep were perhaps more necessary than optional for safe operation of climbing equipment.
Today, the sun is shining. And the parent dragged me out for a four-mile walk after breakfast, so there will be no running this evening, and quite possibly no work, if I don't wake up soonish.
There might, however, be pizza. Because while the enfridged shepherd's pie is all well and good, I have marvellous strange government moneys in my bank account for a short time yet, and I might be extravagant and have take-out for a day.
(Once I pay for the Silchester training, I'll be back wheedling dinner out of the parent. So I might as well enjoy my tenner of spending money while it lasts.)
