Quit your job (Everyday Dirtbag #127).

On the back cover of Climbing Magazine, the ad was simple.  Endorsed by the 5.10 shoe company in black letters on a white background:

QUIT YOUR JOB.

Ironically, I was thinking about this while “working” this weekend.  I say “working” because I was guiding Integrated Outdoor Program students on a three-day climbing trip to Smith Rock State Park and Sisters Boulders.  Working = climbing?

I don’t think so.

But I did have to go, so….

Anyway, I was camping and hiking and climbing and playing and watching eagles, and I realized how good my body felt.

Three days without hunching over a computer.

Three days without grading essays.

Three days without stressing while prepping last-second for classes.

My neck and back and left arm felt great (for the first time in a month).  And I realized that working, doing my regular day job, is not good for my body.  Working my whole body instead, hiking and climbing out in the boulder fields, carrying a heavy pack, and scrambling around are best for my body, for my overall health.

So if only that could be my job.  Or wait, not my job.  Or not my job more (awkward syntax, huh?).  More less of my job (How do you like that?).

We are meant to work, but not to work like that (“that” being the bad kind of work – hunching work, work on computer screens, work that involves time stress and loud bells ringing).

Useless obsessive compulsive stats from the weekend (if you care to read on):

Pieces of free pizza found at Pappy’s Pizza in Redmond, Oregon:  1

Nights camped: 2

Nights cold: 1

Nights ridiculously sweaty hot:  1

Bald Eagles spotted: 2

Deer: 10 (all female)

Pigeons dead and cleaned by a predator but with wings still perfectly intact:  1

Total sport climbs sent: 1 (a 5.7)

Total Boulders climbed:  29 (VB to V6 – a cheap lowball that I already had wired)

 

 

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