I couldn't help it, I was just so frustrated and the floodgates opened. 58 years young/old and I was crying at the crag. Big, full-blown sobs straight from the heart. Sponge Bob Square Pants reduced to tears. FFS!
Back at work you spend the whole week longing to get out climbing. You've been doing some training to try and get a little bit better, but it's wearing you out and your fingers are really tired. If you've got a project you're mentally worn out too, because it occupies your thoughts most of the time you're awake and you keep going through the moves whenever you've got a spare moment. Then you finally get to the crag (an adventure in itself when you're going to La Ramirole with a dog). The conditions let you down, it's too humide and you trash your skin on your first attempt. The weekend's already finished for you, that's it. Back to work and go through all that aching and longing again, until the next weekend.
That more or less sums up how I've been existing for over 40 years. I have absolutely no regrets and have had a fantastic time trying my best to claw my way up cliffs pretty much all over the world. However, I've got to a stage where it's getting really, really hard to keep motivated. Quite simply, I'm getting too old and am struggling on stuff I used to run up. Plus I'm always the punter at the crag these days and my projects are the warm ups! I'm OK if we're at a quiet crag but I really hate being the weakling at La Ramirole.
I don't feel like doing any more training, I've had enough, and I don't feel motivated to go back to La Ramirole, despite feeling close to doing my project (if only the conditions and my skin were good enough). Then again, you never know..... Maybe I should go downstairs and pull my finger out after all. Come on.