It probably shows my age, and something about me when I spend my Friday night climbing with the WAG’s and Sunday night with the Fathers. Now unlike the WAG’s the men have more of well manly conversation, so less talk of Strictly Come Dancing and more Top Gear. Not that there is anything wrong with Strictly, I am a bit partial to partially dressed professional dancer or two. However there comes a point in a man’s life that he has to turn his back albeit temporarily on the Pasodoble, twistles and overtly camp judges, and act like a man.
The irony of doing this with three dad’s that are obsessed with terms like ‘sleeping through’, ‘teething’, ‘nappy rash’ and other terms that a thirtysomething single man really should be aware of. I should probably add nipple pads and mechanical expressor’s to that list. Anyway our conversations were of course merely pretend macho, after all you would hardly expect the climbing wall to be full of the kinds of women that will turn the us into scaffolders at a mere glance. Especially on a Sunday Night in deepest darkest Llanberis.
Instead we just boulder, which given that my finger is still to give it a scientific term, buggered, meant that the session went on for all of 20 minutes before I met the glass ceiling where to break through could well break me again. Still it was nice to get out of the house, and get some form of exercise of such a bleak day. Hang out with a few friends and watch them crank it out!
I did manage one manly exercise whilst there, a new fist jamming eliminate that the moving around of the campus board (which if your planning a power session is actually pretty much unusable as it stands), to make room for the Cornetto wall has created a fist jamming crack up between the board and the old resin wall. You need to eliminate any lay-backing and tackle it as an out and out fist jam to make it proper thuggery. Just one lay-back move make sit far easier, but if you tackle it like a man then you get the fist jamming rash to prove it!