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on bouldering and parasocial relationships

—Bouldering is the chosen exercise of people I hang out with here, so I’ve gotten to like it, for social reasons

—There is an inherent stupidity to it, going inside to grip plastic protuberances and clenching up my face while falling off the wall, but it’s fun as well

—It occurs to me that I have a weird parasocial relationship with the route-setters, the people who make the problems

—They are like, “contort your body in this unnatural way, it’ll be good for you” and I, separated in time, follow their commands

—It almost feels dominatrix-y, they are like, “do this, you inadequate piece of shit” and I’m like “yes sir, I am inadequate but I will try my best”

—At times we are friends, I feel that I benefit from their thoughtfulness, they ask just enough of me, such that I can rise above my frailty and gracelessness

—At times I hate them, feel that their demands are unfair, feel that they’ve teamed up with gravity to keep me squashed to the earth

—But I never see these people, whose singular whims determine my ongoing shape, I only get traces of what their minds are like through the problems they create

—Lately, I’ve been really enjoying the problems at Benchmark, which are set by, ???, I don’t know, some guy named Josh, or, like, Graysen

—He has a taste for balance and poise, for making the most of nonstandard footholds and handholds; even at my novice level, he asks that you rest your foot on a slippery cone while gripping a neon green croissant that offers little support

—He has pretty good stubble; he eats mediocre vegetarian burritos; we wouldn’t have much to talk about, but we do a lot of communicating