Rockin' Climbing

I've decided that rock climbing is not a glamorous sport.

I mean first of all, you get all harnessed up real cute like. (But you know, when Karsten Brown is wearing a harness too...) Then you climb the easiest wall and feel real proud of yourself. After the 6th wall, two weird muscles in your arm that you never knew you had, start burning and your palms get cute blisters. Desperately, you decide the answer is more chalk. You get so much that your shirt gets covered and when you clap, powder flies into every opening on your face. After the 9th wall, you feel you are ready for the hard stuff. You go find the hardest wall, and everyone you know comes to watch as you slowly stumble up 3/4 of the way before giving up. After that humiliating spectacle you realize that you must've missed out on some genes since apparently all the Brown's are naturals at rocking climbing. You think and want to cry, and then instead, you laugh and say, "You know what? I love this!" You go and climb all day and try not to ever have hands that are anything near lacking in chalk. You learn a lot, and conclude that however unglamorous, rock climbing is hard, fun, and something Skylar would rock at. At the end of the day, when you take off your pain inducing climbing shoes, your feet are stained bright red because you got the cheap rental ones that do that kind of thing. At first you wonder if your feet are really just red because they hurt so bad, and after trying to wash them about 103.9 times and not much of the color leaves you decide that it will be a lifetime climbing memento. Most unpleasantly, you discover that your aunt has been taking pictures. Lots of them. You make another well thought out decision to never let them be seen by the public eye. You vow that rock climbing isn't easy, but if you have fun it's a whole lot easier. You're pretty good at having fun, maybe you got the good genes after all.

PS: It is so good to be home...:)