jelly arms.

So my English teacher, Erica, has started this climbing interest. I always look forward to her stories about climbing and what she has accomplished. One day she asked a classmate to join her. Tana loved it and I was like noooooo way. Until last week, "When are you going to come climbing?" Uhhhh..? I don't know, sounds fun though. Wait, WHAT? Why did I just say that? I couldn't climb on Sunday so I just put it out of my mind until she asked the same question yesterday. After figuring out the (little) free time I have, I decided to climb today.

HOLY HELL.

It was amazing, glorious, and awesome all rolled into one. I was very nervous walking into the climbing area and I felt dumb saying "I want to climb." Haha, but I did and a guy got me started. Erica walked in soon after and I felt relieved knowing I knew someone and didn't have to do it all by myself. Before I got on the wall I didn't know where to start so I just hopped on and kept going. It was weird. I had to remind myself to breathe. Keep your hips close to the wall. Don't rely on your arms. Use your legs as much as you can. Stop when you have to. Fall when you have to. Well shit, that's a whole lot of trust to put into someone you don't even know. The first time I 'fell' or slipped I felt my heart stop. No really. I thought I was going to free fall to the rec gym floor. Negative ghostwriter. Josh, I think was his name, kept me up there and encouraged me to grab the wall again, shake out my arms and finish it.

The first thing that came to my mind was powerlifting. I could hear coach Michel's screaming in my face, spit hitting my cheeks. I couldn't give up, duh. I kept going.. 3/4 of the way up I was shaking. Like 'I can't move my arms or legs because they are so tired' shaking.

It was a great feeling to keep going and hit that top bar. I was glowing. or I could probably say glistening, with sweat that is. I'm hoping to get certified soon so that I am able to climb with some friends and with Erica again.

TTFN.

I had a moment today.
A moment when I felt and saw myself as a teacher.
It wasn't a good moment.
I found out a kid I went to high school with had committed suicide.
I've dealt with suicide before.
Of course it shocked me.
What kills me the most is that just because he was a troubled kid.
Just because he didn't get good grades.
Just because he was a bully.
People still believed in him.
Teachers thought he could be a good kid.
I knew he was a good kid.

I just thought about how much people believed in him.
In a way I felt like a teacher because I believed in him.
I hope to never have a student take their life after they have been in my classroom.
It's too sad.

My prayers are with the Davis family.
RIP Ryan.