Boulder-ing, Colorado

I'm sitting here in the bright, almost blinding sun in downtown Boulder, it's a refreshing 48º outside, I'm drinking the most beautiful latte I've ever had (butter pecan, YUM), and listening to Korean pop through Itunes (yes, this is happening). Weekend recap: Friday night, I went indoor rock-climbing for the second time ever. The minute I walked in, I jerked my eyes up to the ridiculous heights of the ceiling and the numerous people spider-monkeying their way up the walls, climbing ropes dangling like Spanish moss. I gulped. This was so not my scene. Not that I'm not adventurous, but my upper body strength leaves something to be desired, and I could just imagine hanging haphazardly from one of the multi-colored handholds with my friend shouting at me, "Left foot, LEFT foot, no, your other left!" I don't know what it is about getting halfway up a climbing wall that makes me forget basic lateral directions. These are things I learned at two, for crying out loud. The index finger and thumb of the appropriate hand even form the first letter of one of them, just in case I do go blank, a hint that doesn't help when said fingers are curled in a tight grip.

That said, I didn't do too badly. I summited (spell check is telling me this isn't a word, but I beg to differ) two different challenges (novice of course) and was rewarded a triumphant slide down the yellow tube. During my ascent, there may or may not have been calls of "Move your right foot, right foot; You're bending your arms; Find a new place for your feet, hurry up or you're gonna get tired" but whatever, I did it. I fell off a few times, and in bouldering there is no climbing rope, so good thing I have sufficient experience falling off pointe shoes to know how not to snap my ankle. I just knew that would come in handy.

Cut to next morning. Holy mother. I peeled open my eyes and rolled over to which my body responded, "Why do you hate me?" I wasn't aware one used the forearm for much, but this turned out to be a gross misconception as it squealed in pain practically all day.  It is necessary for writing, slicing cheese, twisting caps off water bottles, lifting coffee mugs, and opening car doors to name a few. My legs and hindquarters were in similar disarray leaving me muttering ‘Ouch’ with every step down the stairs, so I soaked in the gym hot tub until my bones turned into noodles. Lesson learned? Jenn will not be scaling a rock face any time soon.