It's been quiet here on the posting front for an entirely different reason than the usual ones. About a month ago, I woke up from a night of climbing to find that I didn't have the strength in my right hand to hold a coffee cup, let alone a crimpy hold. After noticing that advil and ice weren't making a dent in the pain (or the lack of grip strength), I didn't climb for three whole weeks.

Three long, torturous, grumpy weeks.

Three weeks where everywhere I looked, I saw climbing holds. The edge of the doorframe, the wall moulding, the edges of the cubicle walls at work, the shelves at the grocery store. Everywhere.

But I did it, I didn't climb for three weeks. And then when I did go back, I made myself only do 5.5s and 5.6s, not the 5.9+ lead routes I'd previously been falling from. When I woke up the next morning and my arm didn't hurt too badly, I did it again; I went back a few days later and climbed some more, 5.6s and 5.7s, and one eensy, weensy 5.8 on lead.

Yeah, I reinjured my arm. In spectacular enough fashion that I now need two bags of ice, for the two different places it hurts. I am made of awesome.

So.

I'm trying to see this as an opportunity to work on cardio and lower-body weight training. I'm revising my goals and my timetables. Eventually I'll read up on resistance-training as PT, but in the short-term, I'm focusing on getting strong enough to do little things, like grip a kickboard in the pool. And I'm not climbing.

I hate this.

It helps that I have a wide bevy of distractions at my disposal: books to read, tv to catch up on, rabbits to cater to, a house to renovate, a garden to plant (one-handed of course). And I'm ignoring all the climby things I see everywhere: the ivy slithering up the fence, the squirrel scurrying up the underside of a roof strut, the spider blithely hanging out on the ceiling. Really, I'm ignoring them.

It also helps that I get phone calls from The Transient Oregonian, herself no stranger to injury (she has a punch pass for physical therapy), reminding me to knock it off and go for a brisk walk, just as I'm thinking about bouldering round my kitchen. It's uncanny, it's like she can see through the phone.

I'm trying to remain calm, really I am. It's just a huge shock to go from climbing three times a week to a dead halt.

To add insult to this injury, it's finally sunny here. Which means that I am also not boating: no rowing, no kayaking, no sailing, no windsurfing, nada.

Except that in the grand scheme of things, being sidelined another month or so is not a huge problem. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a motley assortment of cranky pets, and a library to put Alexandria to shame. Now all I have to do is remember to use a ladder to get spices out of the cupboards.