My arms are so tired that it takes a concerted effort to hold my pen and write. The ropes coil automatically thanks to some sort of spring-loaded system built straight into the harness. Still, it requires an immense amount of effort to withdraw and recast the ropes for each swing.
It doesn’t help that I fell from the training route twice. We were only twenty feet off the ground, but even a massive Nantese fern can only offer so much padding from any height. I cannot imagine doing this in the canopy.
Thankfully we have time as we wait here, nothing but time and watchful diligence, so let us keep our minds sharp by honing our bodies.
Assuming I don’t bludgeon mine to death first.