Those distractions have become a bit more difficult to ignore when he’s not on the rocks, though.
“Can I shake your hand to see how strong it is?” asks a young woman sitting at an adjacent table, who has been whispering with her middle-aged mother throughout their meal about sitting next to a celebrity.
Honnold mumbles an acknowledgment and offers his thick-callused hand, his cheeks blushing beneath a deep suntan.
“We saw your video,” the young woman’s mother says. “Tell your mother she’s amazing. Your mother encourages bravery. I hope I do it for my own 23-year-old son.”
“I’m extra self-conscious about that stuff,” Honnold remarks after they leave; it’s his first complete sentence since the interruption. “I don’t like causing a scene, but they seemed like nice folks, and at least they’re psyched.”