Rock Climbing.....The natural enemy of a beer belly.

Spent the day rock climbing with the whole family Sunday. And I learned that rock walls will bitch slap a beer belly and the day of keeping up with my kids in sports may be ending. But at 49 years old it was an odd time to rock climb for the first time. Joints have a way of making their presence felt at the most annoying times. Knees and shoulders seemed to take a particular pleasure in screaming the higher I would get on the wall. And my fingers may never be right.

Christopher my oldest boy at 14 went rocketing up those walls like some sort of crack head monkey. He was going upside down and sideways fearlessly. Zachary my 11 year old also made it to the top of one wall after only his second try. My wife Scarlett made the top of several walls and Melanie and Matthew climbed as well. Everyone had a great time. Family togetherness.

Except for when we left. Reality has set in the Peter Pan is getting old. My kids kicked my ass all up and down those walls. And being the competitive man that I am I kept climbing right with them. My left knee has ceased to work on stairs this evening. I almost ducted tape the spoon to my hand so I could finish my ice cream because my fingers hurt so bad. When it was time for a shower it became evident that nothing would be washed above shoulder level. I couldn't lift my arms. Even my toes are sore from digging onto ledges trying to hold my beer gut up.

In one especially optimistic moment tonight I thought I would have done much better six months ago. Without the 30 pounds of sexy blubber. But, who am I kidding? I was still smoking back then. Try holding yourself parallel to the ground two stories up and light a Camel. That isn't going to work. And my lungs were the only part of body that didn't hurt. I don't recall having to stop and have a coughing fit once while we were there. I guess this means I am old, fat and healthy. Boy will that look good on a business card.

All in all it was a lot of fun. And the whole family could do it. But I think something less painful is in my future. Golf only hurts my pride. Bowling only hurts my image at work. Badminton was suggested but the last thing I need is to hurt myself lunging for a shuttlecock. There are too many puns to follow that up with so...

Till next......