Climbing

As predicted, my aerial ballet class royally kicked my rear. I'm finally able to sneeze without wishing for death. Of course, me being me (read: retarded), I scheduled a second aerial ballet class.
It's tonight. I'm totally pumped to learn more climbs and more flips and rolls and such, but this is not a post about aerial ballet. This is a post about rock climbing.

Specifically, how hard it is when I'm no longer 18.

I'm almost ten years past 18 at this point, and while I would like to think I'm pretty well adjusted and much happier now than I was then, there is a point of contention to that statement. When I was 18, I swam 7.5 hours a day, lifted and ran every day. (Thank you, D-1 college athletics!) So, when I was 18, I was in significantly better shape than I am now. Im not in bad shape, I just can't bench press more than my body weight anymore. I'd be happy if I could bench press half my body weight right now, but that's a story for a different day.
I used to climb with some friends from the dorm I lived in temporarily when I was in college. One of them taught me to boulder, and the other taught me to climb on belay. We used to go maybe two or three times a month after freshman year, so it wasn't ever like I did it on a really regular basis. Both friends have sinced moved to remote and exotic locations like the Moab Desert, and Milwaukee. (Seriously.) I have remained in the area, and stopped climbing for a number of years.
I picked up bouldering again two years ago. Again, not a lot of consistency in my practice, but I would go and have fun, and enjoy myself.
Apparently, gravity is stronger now than it was when I was 18. I can't climb for the life of me anymore; its really disappointing and disheartening. I like going so much, but its really hard to struggle with something that used to be so easy (due to all the swimming and freak upperbody strength).

Two recently acquired friends are really into it. Like, reallyinto it, and I accompanied them last week after my top rope refresher course (there was a method to it, I swear) to a rock gym I don't usually frequent. After some seriously disorienting news, I tried climbing. I was unsuccessful. I tried again. More failure. Blerg. I watched them scamper up the walls with a good deal of ease. I kept reminding myself that they'd been climbing a lot more often and a lot more consistently than I had. Still hard. Argh.
So I kept at it, gritted my teeth and kept trying. I discovered that I really loathethe automatic belayer that gym has. Doesn't catch quite quick enough for me to not feel like I'm plunging to impending death. I'm sure that gripping the holds will get easier, as it always does with practice, but until then, I am less than thrilled with the idea of returning. It's very intimidating to go into a place with a bunch of really well-skilled climbers; it's really obvious that you're new. Painfully, if you will.  Also useful? Some climbing flats would be nice. Maybe for my birthday. Until then, sneakers or rentals will have to do.

Anyway, I had a good deal of fun with the aerial ballet of last week even if it did make me wish for immediate death when I sneezed, and not so much fun with the climbing. Oh well. I'll keep going because I know that I will make progress. Slow, painful, skin-ripping progres...