Gravity Had Other Plans

One second you’re chalked up and focused, the next the rock whispers “not today.” There’s this delicious, heart-in-throat moment when your brain does the math—fingertips, friction, fight—and then whoosh. Air. The rope sings, the carabiners chatter, and the world turns into a fast-forward blur of sky and stone. It’s messy and honest and somehow beautiful, the kind of chaos that reminds you why climbing never gets old. You bounce, you breathe, you laugh because you can, and you promise the wall you’ll be back. Maybe not for revenge. Maybe just to try again, a little lighter, a little braver, with more chalk and a better story.