I was a teenager when I started to be fascinated about rock climbing.
I read many books and each time I was going through those experiences, I could almost feel the adrenaline, the fear and the conquers.
But the same way I was eager to do it, I also felt fear.
So much could go wrong.
So I kept reading and dreaming about it.
Last year, due to a very unfortunate situation, I saw myself being the receiver of a monetary compensation. It didn’t make me a millionaire, or brought an early retirement. But I decided turning a bad thing, into a good one and use that money to do things I like.
I enrolled in a rock climbing course.
On my first day I was like a kid in a candy store.
I bet I had sparkly eyes and a silly smile on my face.
I listened carefully to all the instructor was saying. I wanted to learn as much as I could.
Deep inside I was afraid that experiencing it, would be a disappointment.
Imagine if I didn’t feel anything like I felt reading those climbing adventures.
Or if I found out I had vertigo, or acrophobia?
All of this was going through my head while I was getting ready for my first climb.
The harness was on. My rope knots had been check and my partner was ready.
I started to climb, up up to the top.
All was good, a bit straining on my arms and legs, but I was fit enough to cope with it.
Coming down was a bit more tricky. But I had very good guidance and it was actually fun.
I went back for further training.
I felt amazing. It felt amazing.
It was what I felt while reading and more.
After climbing, my arms, legs and hands hurt. But it’s a good pain, a fulfilling one, a happy pain – if I can say there’s such thing.
I haven’t done it outside. Haven’t climbed a rock mountain. Yet…