10 Starting climbing at 50
It’s mid-April and it hasn’t gotten hot yet. The climbing gym has 20 or so people in it. This location used to be one of those industrial used bookstores. I am here for a bouldering class, indoor climbing with no ropes and no harnesses. The place smells like an old classroom, like when I used to have to clean the blackboard erasers as a kid. I see people walking around with white, powdery hands and I’m reminded of gymnastics classes as a kid. We used to chalk up our hands all the time. I’m not sure I ever knew why back then. Now I know that’s to keep our hands from getting sweaty, helping to keep us stuck ot the wall. I hope that I can do this without breaking something or failing completely. I am 50 and it’s been about 35 years since I’ve last been climbing. My current exercise routine involves carrying a camera and pushing a computer mouse around. The guy running the front desk introduces himself as Eddy, he’s incredibly tall and lanky and wears a baseball cap with an entirely flat brim. He’s surprised at how early I am, more than 20 minutes before the class is scheduled to start, but he notes that I’m the only one signed up for the class. We can go ahead and get started any time. He shows me the waiver form and asks for my shoe size. I wonder again if I’m going to hurt myself. Eddy is excited to know that I’m returning to climbing after decades. I don’t tell him that when I was 17 I climbed for a few hours and then while I was on exchange in Germany as a nineteen-year-old, I climbed for less than that. Eddy tells me that it’s never too late to start climbing again with the enthusiasm of a business owner who’s hoping I’ll eventually get a membership. I put on rental climbing shoes and grab a chalk bag and we walk up to the wall. It’s covered with colored plastic handholds made to look like bits of rock. Eddy reminds me that if I fall I shouldn’t put my hands down as that could lead to broken arms or wrists. I realize then that I just want to be climbing, not thinking about possible injuries to my aging body. An hour later my arms feel like rubber, and I wonder if I can even drive myself home. But I did better than expected and Eddy tells me he’s impressed.
It’s not until 5 months later that my body starts to betray me. It feels like the inside of my arms have the worst sunburn you can imagine whenever I straighten them out. Golfer’s elbow, or climber’s elbow are the common names for it, but I need to know more exactly what I’m dealing with. After a few searches and some conversations at the gym I find out its medical name: medial epicondylitis. Apparently, it’s super common, but that doesn’t help as I lay in bed, unable to sleep because of the pain. Vitamin I, one of the gym coaches recommends with a smile, ibuprofen is the way to go to relieve that pain. J.P. or John Paul tells me he’s got the other kind of elbow injury, Tennis elbow, and that both can be cured – they just need some extra work.
It’s almost a month later and I’ve not climbed for a few weeks. I tried living with the pain, but it got so bad I couldn’t even climb some of the easiest routes in the gym. For a while I was hoping that the right stretches would help, but it’s weight training I need. I get a book and do what the author tells me to do. Because I know what it’s called, I also look up some videos on Youtube so I can see what to do, and what not to do. Climbing is the only type of exercise that I’ve enjoyed in decades so I really hope this will work. It feels odd to lift weights at all, but truly bizarre to simply flex my wrists up and down with dumbbells. Two weeks later I’m excited to climb again. I finish my session a little more than an hour later, I’m sweaty and smiling. Both arms ache, but it’s the kind of pain I can handle, the pain of a good workout.