Cowardly Custard

We are so not macho shit.

The German Pony and I decided that we would do some power-climbing last night. To us, power-climbing means climbing as many routes in the fastest time possible. Last night, we only had 45 minutes to climb as we were late and the gym was going to shut at 9pm. We were the last two climbers and we heaved and hoed our way up the routes. At one point, we stopped talking to each other. The previous day’s workout (muay thai for her and spinning and weights for me) did not deter us and we went on our merry way to wreck our muscles. The only time we stopped was to acknowledge each other’s madness. We were cold (forgot to turn off the air-conditioning), hungry (it was way past dinnertime) and tired (climbed on Sunday). As The German Pony and I are engineered in such a way that we both don’t know when to stop, the show went on with her muttering “endurance” under her breath.

When it was time to leave, we sorted the ropes out, turned off the air-con and lights in the cavernous gymnasium. It was pitch dark save for a light that was streaming in from a strange door-like panel at the upper level of the gym. As The German and I padded across the darkness, I looked at the ominous light and my imagination delved into all the cheesy B-grade horror flicks that I’ve watched. I clutched her arm and said, “I’m scared!” Shedding all her bravado, she turned to me and said, “Me too!” We looked at each other and we ran all the way out of the gym. So much so for all the power-climbing.

Outside, we were panting from the sudden burst of exertion. The gym is the size of two basketball courts ok!

The Daily Toe (huffing and puffing): That was a classic scene from a potential horror flick. You know the high school beauty queens stuck in the gym and the monster comes after them?
The German Pony (slightly aghast): Beauty queens?!

Like I said, we are so not macho shit.