Rock Climbing

Three months into my Guatemalan Adventure and I can tell the absence of rock is testing me. My hard earned pull-up ability has diminished, along with my mantling and other such strength. Out of habit, I run my fingers along the pads on my hands and feel where the hard callouses are disappearing. My mind no longer has the difficult mental and physical challenge that climbing perpetually gives me.

In Guatemala City, I longingly finger the stone walls, searching out crimpers, but it is Tikal where this craving to climb reveals itself most strongly. The rich limestone walls of the towering buildings attract my eyes. I glimpse at the tiny pockets etched in the rock, not where the weathering makes perfect holds for nimble feet. I long to feel the gritty stone under my fingers, powder my hands with chalk, and jump on some rock. Never in my whole life would I have imagined such a craving, such a need to challenge my body, mind and soul. I need to climb.

While in Tikal performing interviews on Friday I noticed one tourist's Black Diamond bag and struck up a casual conversation about climbing. We re-met in Los Amigos Hostel in Flores, where he, his girlfriend, and I talked rock. We feel the same inherent desire to climb. For me, it's almost as if after two years of consistent climbing that the physical strength and mental challenge it gave me is necessary to keep me sane, functioning, and healthy. When will I hop back on the rock again?

Patience, Nancy, soon enough I'll remember the heart throbbing anxiety of climbing rock. I'll remember how much I have to force myself through the mental fear to move my way up the wall. Right now, all I can think of is the joy of the challenge, the thrill of the accomplishment, and the excitement of being with friends who love the vertical feel of rock walls.