A rainy run

Although it was raining reasonably heavily when I left the house, it wasn't until I was ten minutes in that heavens opened and it became completely torrential. So utterly soaked that I had to re-tie the drawstring on my shorts I switched routes, chopping a few miles of my planned route, and dashed home as quickly as I could. When I got home my hands were so cold, despite my gloves, that I'd lost most of the feeling in them and I spent the next 15 minutes moaning in pain as it started to come back. Not exactly the best way to start the day.

ETA: It turns out that R was out running at the same time, further down the coast, got caught up in exactly the same weather, and got home to discover that her mascara had run leaving her looking like a very sad panda. Clearly I need to raise my sartorial game...

Ups and downs

Following this morning's washout, we spent the afternoon indoors, climbing up and falling off things. I didn't have a bad session, trying to crack the move that it is preventing me from completing my first 6c — I've been assigned the goal of completing one by Christmas — and working on another that involves going the whole way — including getting past an overhang — laying back on an arete. I also made a pretty decent stab at a route with no handholds whatsoever, using nothing but a series of tiny footholds and an arete, and struggled with the first third of a 6b comprised entirely of slopers — obviously an area I need to work on.

R felt bit out of sorts and had an attack of nerves fairly early on, choking on something she'd breezed up a couple of weeks ago, leaving her feeling a bit glum — a shame because she was solid on everything else and has, somewhere along the line, turned into the queen of the knee drop. But that's OK: everyone has off days and, once we'd pinned down the cause of the despondency, we realised that it gives us a good excuse for going again sometime in the next few days...