|Room with a view.|
Its really not hard to cross that first possibility off the list. Spend 5 minutes in the Little Green House and, other than the occasional night to veg out and watch Alias, there are few nights during the week that aren't filled with activity and even fewer weekends not packed to the gills.
But every action is a choice. So when did we start choosing to not stay our course of "crushing"? Did we get lazy making excuses because we were just too busy? Maybe it was that tough day back in Leavenworth this spring that left us both a little ego bruised and fearful. Or maybe it was individual personal muck that emerged in spring that - if I can speak for Sara too - rattled nerves and found its way through the cracks to our softer selves. Maybe, over time and with the new perspective we gain each day, we simply realized a number is not what makes happy. (does this sound redundant? I'm sensing a theme here...)
I would like to make a bajillion dollars, but the decent salary I'm paid for a position I worked good n' hard to earn at company I really enjoy working for is more important than any higher paying alternative.
Sure, it would be great to have a bit more stretching room in the Little Green House; at 768sq feet, its smaller than most people's kitchens or garages. But its cozy, comfortable, easy to clean!, has a kickass gear-age, and friends and family feel welcome to come over..whenever.
And yes, I wouldn't mind a couple extra inches to my 5'4" frame, but I duck less often under low tree branches, fit easily on planes, and never feel put out when someone else claims shotgun first.
Maybe less is more? Maybe less = happy...?
Its been a long time since either of us posted. For this first one back, in some ways, I wish I could report that we did make it up Outer Space, Lovers Leap, The Perch and are on our way to the Creek. But we didn't do any of those things. Instead, for me, the summer was filled with plugging gear into 6's and 7's at Smith, finding a new edge in the Sawtooths on a sketchy 4th class boulder field before we even made it to the single pitch of 5th class, and laughing and cursing through my first experience of finishing a climb in the light of a headlamp. It included bailing off of a number of sub-6 routes for milkshakes and pedicures instead. And taking a good friend up his first multipitch route and down his first rappel. All of these, with new climbing partners. Nothing was part of that original plan. And it was all really, really good. So good, it was better than I'd planned.
With fall just beginning, there is no end to good days of rock in the near future. I'm currently in Chattanooga and am eager to try the rock here though I dont anticipate getting on anything above an 8 or 9, sport. Whatever the number, I will be happy and count it as a success as long as its like all those other experiences this summer its somewhere near five point fun.