Dear God of Climbing. Bless Your Soul. Bless the Limestones that were erected in your name. Bless the Jugs and Crimps and Slopers and Pinches and Pockets and Over Hangs and Under Clings that were molded in your form. Bless the nylon harnesses and the dynamic ropes and the titanium wire-gate quick draws that allow me to connect to You. And bless the Carbon Magnesium chalks that allow me to prolong that connection.
I have a confession to make. A few weeks back I posted something on my wall. I posted that thought out of anger and spite and frustration and disappointment. I posted that thought by mistake.
I lied. I lied to myself and to my friends and to my friends' friends and to the people all around the world who saw my post that day and the day after and the day after that. I lied. That was not what I really meant. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, O Holy God of Climbing. I'm sure you saw it that way too.
If you alleviate me of this disability, I make a solemn promise. I promise to uphold the codes of Climbing to the letter. If you return me my Godly powers, I promise to pass down your wisdom to others. If you bestow upon me your gravity-defying blessings, I will ensure your efforts will never go to vain. I will make known the legends of The Figure-4, The Figure 9, The Egyptian, The Double Dyno, The Double-Step Dyno, The Two Finger Pull Up, The Hand Jam and the Under Cross-Hand Dyno. The world will hear of these mythical movements. They will gasp in awe. They will embrace these movements. And they will once again applaud your existence.
Hear me, O Holy God of Climbing. Return me my Demi-Godness and I shall return you your Glory and Immortality.
