When you get to the foot of any part of the climbing wall you just pick the colour of holds you think you can climb up, pink with white spots, shrek green etc. These are graded by degree of difficulty. This week I was paired up with some guy about half my age. Naturally he was keen to push the envelope, himself and me. After one or two routes the pace began to tell on the arms. It wasn't long before I'd lost contact with the wall itself, literally come unstuck.This is because at some point, willing the fingers to grip no longer has any effect. So there one is hanging in space, which is a lot better than succumbing to the effects of gravitational attraction.
Having reached one's Present Personal Limit anything easier seems pointless and anything harder is obviously impossible. There's nothing else to do but struggle and suffer at the clearly defined edge of possible/impossible. This is what I suppose is described as Sporting.
Maybe the rest of life seems equally pointless unless its almost impossible? Is it, reach exceeds grasp? Well It can't be grasp exceeds reach, everything would be a doddle then.
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