These Boots Weren't Made for Walking

This morning I dusted off my climbing shoes and packed them in with my laptop with the intention of using them in anger after work. Amazingly, I was told it's been almost a year since I climbed there and I didn't recognise many people which worked to my advantage as my usual routine was to grab a cup of coffee and chat for a few hours before getting changed and hitting the wall (ok, so I hit the crash mat more then I hit the wall but such is life).

The one thing I don't remember about the sport was how tight my boots were, really, walking or standing is not an option! After a not so impressive 2 hour session, my arms ache, my thighs ache my back aches and lest we forget, my feet are killing me but it all feels good and I'm hoping that being this tired might break the mild insomnia I've developed over the past few weeks.

Anyway, enough of that, I won't dwell on the fact I felt an amazing sense of achievement from something people do every day! I'll leave with a small word of advice, don't try to get into Oxford Circus station at 6 on a weekday, you'll have better luck walking through the eye of a needle. I thought, rather then waiting, I'll walk in the “I'm not quite raining on you” drizzle to Tottenham Court road, unfortunately I wasn't the only one inspired with this idea. Slow moving crowds (which, for some reason, always reminds me of herding cows) move there way into the station, past the gates, down the escalator and onto an empty platform and an even emptier train. I can't work that out, where does everyone go?

If your one of the people who disappeared and are currently still stuck in the alternate reality between the escalator and platform, give me a shout, it would be good to hear from you.