Last night I attended a happy hour for First Descents, this awesome non-profit that sends young cancer survivors on adventure trips. I, myself, am heading out a First Descents rock-climbing camp in Estes Park, Colorado, in a couple weeks, and hearing other people’s enthusiasm for the program really pumped me up.
Last weekend, the boyfriend and I headed to an indoor climbing gym so I could familiarize myself with some of the climbing lingo (“Belay on!”). We learned to tie lots of different knots and use a carabiner, which, up until 5 seconds ago, I thought was spelled caribbeaner. I guess now I can stop dreaming of sunny islands with white sand beaches every time I say the word. Or maybe not, because dreaming of beaches is fun.
Also fun? Climbing walls. Fun and terrifying, because I am not Spiderman and losing my grip on the wall and plummeting to my death is a very real fear. Nonetheless, I am hella excited for my trip and not quite sure what to expect. I know there will be about 15 people living together for 5 days in a lodge with a cook, some volunteers, and our “counselors”. I know that we’ll be climbing rocks. Other than that, I don’t know how it’s going to feel or whether I’m going to accomplish the goals they set forth for me, but I know I’m going to try.
The past few weeks have been difficult. Work is extremely stressful and my routine is cumbersome: wake up, walk the same route, stare at the same computer in the same office, and deal with the same frustrations. There’s gotta be more to life (thanks Stacie Orrico), right? I’m hoping that the First Descents trip is a metaphorical catalyst to help me move forward.