I’ve never been that guy that weighs 135 lbs (at least since I was 12) and runs effortless laps around the climbing gym. I currently weigh in the neighborhood of 195 lbs and watching me climb might be like watching a whale seizure. At least that’s what it feels like when I break a hold and fall on my face. For example, last night at the shed I tore the bolt through the T-nut (I know, I didn’t think this was possible either) of a new crimp. It exploded in a way that made me question whether I had been shot. Then I landed on my left elbow which hurt way bad for the rest of the night. But the interesting part came when I told Phil I broke his hold and hurt my arm because he said to me, “that’s scary”. That is scary. With all the effort I put in to training so that I can go out and be strong on the routes I love to get on, I had forgotten how much injuries hold me back. A person of my dimensions (fat) should be more careful. Especially in the gym. Chicks are not impressed by injuries sustained from plastic holds on a plywood wall over old mattresses. Fuck, I think I’m maturing.