One of my all-time favorite ways to move, for as long as I can remember. And it’s something I’ve always been good at. Despite the chronic pain and fatigue, easily-pulled muscles, unstable joints and trick knees that have plagued me most of my life, I have always been confident and felt amazing while “horizontal rock climbing.” (Is that a thing?) It places me unequivocally in my body in a way that is not painful nor traditionally “comfortable.” It is meditative: It doesn’t force me to focus solely on the three feet in front of me, the three seconds in front of me—but it encourages me to. Sometimes I am skipping quickly and sometimes I am clambering on all fours. I feel both light on my feet and grounded to the rock.
I think there are things that feel great to us because we are genetically predisposed to them. Is it my upbringing (coastal, rocky New England)? My ancestry (coastal and mountainous Europe)? Both? Neither? Whatever the case, for me this is movement manna.
Pictured: the rock wall from both sides, and the view south from the outermost point. (The view north is urban industrial wasteland and not nearly as romantic!)
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