I’ve noticed that my lifestyle of snacking whilst sitting on my fat lazy ass in an office chair have not been kind to my physique. My health neither, for that matter; no matter how awesome a verb it is, in this context, ‘surf’ does not count as exercise. As I approach 31, these concerns become more concerning, considering my advancing age.
So I’ve started playing football when I can. It’s fun, and there’s a nice level of competitiveness with the lads. I don’t really know them, but I call them ‘lads’. In a jocular, convivial way. I have a weak shot, but am a pretty good passer, and would be described as ‘plucky’ by any opposition team member.
I enjoy running around, as long as i have a ball to chase and kick. That’s called exercise.
As it turns out I also enjoy climbing walls, provided there’s stuff to hold onto.
I went simulated rock climbing last night. With William Smith. The climbergym (hard ‘b’) is very close to both of our houses. We went for just an hour, until closing, but next time, a little longer.
It’s an impressive facility, inocuous on the outside, expansive on the inside, like Oscar the Grouch’s garbage can. Plenty of bright, oddly shaped handholds, nooks, crannies, and outcroppings. And pretty ropes.
Will was kind enough to take me under his wing and show me the ‘figure of eight’ knotting system etc.
Afterwards we had a cheeky beer around the corner. Here’s to many more hours of rock climbing followed by tasty alco-calorific beverages!
