shaver

It was Hockey Day In Canada today, which meant three all-Canadian games, varying filler from tiny towns across Canada (Iqaluit, Medicine Hat, Ottawa), and shameless automotive advantage-taking (of Alasdair).

After we finished our errands, which was in turn after I finished playing a decent pile of Shadowbane, Madhava arrived and we settled in for some Ottawa-vs-Toronto/vodka-vs-us showdown action. I’m not sure how much we drank, but these rules will let you calculate it from the box score:

• ½ ounce for a minor (2- or 4-minute) penalty your team takes.
• 1 ounce for a goal by the opposing team.
• 1 ounce for a major penalty taken by your team.
• 1 additional ounce (total: two ounces) for a shorthanded goal scored by the opposing team.

Madhava and I were on the Toronto side. Alasdair was on the Ottawa side. Alasdair didn’t drive home.

I need to figure out why I’m dreading climbing. It’s a weird sensation; the prospect makes me quite uncomfortable. Last I climbed, I had some serious fear issues with the descent, which issues I’m pretty sure are the result of my little free-fall episode months and months ago. I don’t know why it gets worse with every passing excursion, but that’s seems to be the pattern. And if it doesn’t get better with practice, or with time elapsed from the incident, I wonder how I’m supposed to get that confidence back.

It’s interesting, at least to me, to note that I’m really only bothered by the descent, after the climb has been completed — or, you know, aborted due to fatigue or incompetence — and that I don’t really have any problem at all with fear when I’m actually climbing, or even when I fall off the wall onto the rope. Probably related to over-thinking, or maybe a trust issue. Or too much thinking about trust issues?

Sucks. I really enjoy climbing, but now…. Bah.