There's nothing like hanging off the side of a 80+ foot cliff, eye level with hawks... exhilarating!
Here's a blip I wrote a few months back... haven't shared it with anyone but an editor from work...
Sweat glistened down my arms and face as I puffed an exasperated sigh. Tendons in my arms were twitching in rhythm with my racing heartbeat. Stretching to the very tips of my toes, arms overhead, jaw locked, eyes focused, I forced my body upward with a menacing grunt of determination. As my fingers slipped off the rock, the tension on my climbing harness tightened as I jerked toward the ground 20 feet below, the rope caught me and I remained beside the place I had slipped from.
The smell of dirt and cake-chalked fingernails wafted from my hands and was warm in my nostrils as I balanced myself on the side of the wall. I looked down to my friend holding the rope and he shouted, "you've got this, come on, you're almost there!" Quitting was not an option.
I inhaled sharply and pushed hard with my legs as my toes balanced on an inch of rock-ledge. My arms were shaking and my hands began to cramp. I have to finish this climb. Making it to the top would be an accomplishment.
My friend yelled, "you're so close, just keep moving!" The strength was seeping from my limbs like a twice-used tea bag. My grip weakened and for a moment the thought of giving up seemed very pleasant.
My thoughts raced, it would be so much easier to rappel down and rest, then try again later but another part of me was fighting, don't you dare let go of that wall again, you can do this! The battle to persevere began. I fought it by throwing my arm high above the next ledge, grabbed the gritty yet firm surface with a tenaciously fierce grip as my body lifted, my feet found a solid grip and I stood tall, realizing my accomplishment.
In that moment, I made a decision: I chose to fight. To overcome.
Can't wait to get back out and tackle some more rock!
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