I've been bouldering since September of 2014 at Seattle Bouldering Project, picking back up from where I left off as a teen. As such, I've been getting more fit than I have been in years. Decades even. I had been running 2-3 times a week, but this is better, more strength & resistance training than anything. Scurrying up & down the big boy jungle gym has put some actual visible muscle on me, unlike infrequently lifting tree-size rolls of fabric & paper at work.
And I've been bringing my daughter with me from time to time. She's already outgrown a pair of climbing shoes. She's a champ, despite being afraid of hight. Just like me.
Yah, get this. I CLIMB, unassisted, with *NO ROPE* 16ft in the air, holding on with white-knuckle fingertips and the tips of my toes... And I don't panic until I start climbing down from the top. I fucking hate getting down. Jump? Fuck that. And fuck you. Sure, I can do it. But don't tell me to. You tell me to jump and you can go fuck right off.
But I hide my fear well. If you push it down enough and go through the motions, you can get through anything.