I practice at a rock gym in Salt Lake City, like most climbing gyms in the country they keep the heat low. It makes sense to keep the electricity use low especially during the climate crisis we’re facing. I guess it’s great to have sending temps inside. All this being said it takes a long ass time to warm up; not just my fingers and shoulders… warm, like warm enough to take off my puffy jacket. Here’s what it looks like:
- I put my rock shoes in my arm pits because if I put them down my pants it would look like I had elephantiasis.
- I’m slapping my back like I’m prostrating myself before god like a good catholic.
- I pace back and forth like a mentally ill person having a panic attack.
- Sometimes while I’m warming up I just get down on the floor and start doing pushups as if I was one of those ass holes from Muscle beach.
- I go from warm up to warm up like the mad hatter disregarding everybody around me.
- I have a puffy jacket, beanie, and a scowl on; not because I’m angry but because I’m tired of freezing my ass off.
- Oh, yeah and I get chalk everywhere; it’s like chocolate at a one-year old’s birthday.
Most gyms are designed more like spas where you’re supposed to go and workout and be comfortable and get a smoothie when you leave. Not the case at the rock gym! We show up to a place, to get better at a sport, and we don’t even care if the heat is on. I find myself fondly thinking about how lucky I am to be a part of a community of people who are actively seeking out opportunities to be uncomfortable. Not enough Americans are willing to put themselves into situations where they’re going to be challenged physically, emotionally, and mentally like when we’re climbing or living on the road.