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CENSORSHIP
14 July 2010, 2:56 pm



Many of you, my reader friends, who daily wait to receive the Truth from Totolore, may have noticed that now the comments, before being published, are going to be moderated, i.e. I will read them before they will appear.

This is obviously not to discourage them, but only to avoid the spamming that I was receiving recently.

So please my friends, feel free to comment more than ever. Thank you.



Source: TOTOLORE

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THOUGHTS OF SAD DAYS
19 July 2010, 12:47 pm

After reading the entry title, at this moment you still can close the page and read something else. What will come is not fun at all.

You sure? Ok, so here you go.

I am both sad and angry. My relationship is falling apart, and despite all the efforts I put in, nothing seems to work. Every argument, whatever its origin, ends up the same way: climbing is the enemy and it has to be slaughtered and sacrificet on the altar of love.

Simply, this will never, never, never fucking never happen. I will sacrifice everythying to my climbing, because, as I have said one million times, I AM MY CLIMBING.

The roots of this situation are lost in time, and despite our efforts to find a fil rouge that could help us understand things better, things are really at the end right now. I have found myself in the same situation before, and with the same girl, but now hope escapes me, I feel I am being forced to renounce to things I love, and I simply don't want it anymore.

Obviously, this is my point of view. If you want to hear her version to be fair, ask her to write a blog.

And now fuck off you all.



Source: TOTOLORE

[robertostallioni]

John Terry, Wayne Bridge and I are all on

[Nibile]

 
thank you, that was a good laugh and I needed it!
but beware, I may need a home soon.
hey, jokes apart,
grazie.

[Dr T]

Come to England
Just don't come to Surrey
Believe me, Surrey sucks
Basically go North from London and don't stop 'til you hit rock
That's what I'd do if it wasn't for things like jobs and morgages etc etc
 

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GRAZIE
22 July 2010, 11:05 am

I really want to thank you all guys. Tom, Rich, Lagers, Unai, Filo, and all the others who didn't comment but spent a thought on this.

I was thinking that maybe it's been a very bad idea to write about such private issues, maybe a true gentleman would have sacked it and kept going. Maybe.

For sure I was feeling very bad when I wrote the entry, and I was feeling very very lonely. After all, I think that it was just a way to be hugged by friends. I think I have stolen you your time, do I really have the right to whine on here, and to make poor Unai waste his time in NZ thinking about me? No, I don't have this right, but I'm a very selfish person and when I need something I try to get it.

I needed attention and support, and I got them both, and also a bit of a crack in the back of my head (thanks Unai!).

Things didn't change much in the last week, but some tension released for sure. I won't give up easily, my relationship is fundamental for me: I was with my girlfriend when I topped out on my Font 8a, and this means something.

Over and out for the moment, but really thenk you all.



Source: TOTOLORE

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SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?
30 July 2010, 9:20 pm

I feel happy. I don't know if I am happy, but I feel happy.

I again got home from work smashed, and again I didn't have enough in me to train seriously, so I didn't, and I feel sorry for that.

My weekend plans are for Amiata top tomorrow and wasting time on sunday, it will be going to a pool to be more precise, but still a waste of time to me.

So, with a long part of the summer still to go, poor skin and feeling weak, my evening has not been very nice. After dinner, though, I took my laptop, put on my headphones and listened to a couple of dozens songs from The Clash and The Who, and I have to say that now I feel happy.

Because while listening to that beats, I still felt the same energy inside, the same bomb going off, the same gigantic "Fuck off you all!" that I had inside when I was 17, and I understood, once again, that I won't change for fuck, I will always be the same asshole despite age and work and everything, and that noone will ever make me do something I don't want to do.

I know they'll never catch me, and I am free again.



Source: TOTOLORE

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A SMILE, FINALLY!
1 August 2010, 1:28 pm

I had a good day yesterday on rock at Amiata top with my good friend Fabio. I did the usual problems, put up the 13th eliminate on "Il Motorino di Mario" (it's worth mentioning that there are four holds in total on the block), then proceeded to repeat "Il Manfano", a problem that I had done last summer, but that I also wanted to repeat, probably because a foothold crumbled and made the move a bit more exigent in precision, if not power. Anyway I did it third go, and three goes were enough to shred my skin, but the problem is so good. I felt solid, chose a higher foothold that made the first move a bit harder but saved a foot movement, and that made all the difference. I stuck the pocket, adjusted, and went on to the top. I let go a yell that bounced down the valley for hours and for a moment I felt satisfied again.

As soon as I sat down again and took off my shoes, I thought about how much I was missing my girlfriend in that moment.

Then it was time to climb more, but my skin was hurting, so I decided to skip the volume and just try the eliminate that Tom had created and left for me to try, last september when he came here. I had given it a few tried without sticking the third move, to a bad crimp, so when I didn't even stick the first move I was a bit shocked. Instead of crying, I took my time to analyze the hold carefully to understand the perfect finger placement: it's an index finger mono with a little bit for middle and ring finger on some kind of slopey dish. Nasty.

The study worked and I did the move next try, going on to the crimp and almost latching the final move to the jug. I fell on the last move another two or three times, but at that point my skin was too poor and I was very tired. The problem, despite being very short, squeezes quite a lot of core tension from your body and I was done.

So, finally a good day out and some smiles on my face and on Fabio's face, who ticked his first 6c+/7a.

Tom, you'll never have your pants back, they're cool, they're comfy and they're stylish, so now they're also mine.

Here's a small video, sadly from phone camera. Keep the faith.



Source: TOTOLORE

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STAY SANE INSIDE INSANITY
7 August 2010, 8:31 am

Lines from songs I love keep resounding in my ears, recently. This time it's not punk or hardcore or metal, it's the lines from "Eddie's Teddy" and "Don't Dream It, Be It", both from "The Rocky Horror Picture Show".

I am so deeply tied to this movie and its soundtrack: two years ago, when I made the move of moving to the sea to keep my Public Notary career, a move that later proved itself to be a humoungus error, that move meant also saying goodbye to the wall, the campusboard and all the gym's crew, to start training again all alone on a small fingerboard. At the time, I still hadn't seen the light under the form of a Beastmaker, so everything was even more difficult, but that fingerboard helped me to stay sane inside insanity. In the rainiest spring of the century, as both Tom and Rich, who later came to visit me, can testify, every night I would come home at 8.30 pm after 11 hours working, I would change into shorts and tanktop, would put on that soundtrack and would pull wooden edges or plastic slopers until failure, something that would happen sooner in my fingers and muscles than in my mind.

Now I have a Beastmaker, and again I often find myself breathing under it, eyes glued on the stopwatch, curious to see if I'll manage to see another set of hangs or pulls. I try to stay sane inside insanity again, but now I want to do more.

I want to stop dreaming it, I want to be it.

If I want to climb my projects, and I want to, I think I have to put in more effort. That's what makes me going now. The more I struggle, the happier I am.

I was reading Dave MacLeod's book the other day, and I stumbled on these lines "The best athletes often have something that 99% of everyone else doesn't. They love the 'grind'. They love the long, repetitive, drawn out and seemingly unrewarding years between the excitement of the novice and the success of being at the pinnacle of performance".

That's true, at least for me. Of course I am not a top athlete as far as objective performances go, but I feel I am a true athlete in my mind. I love to train. I love to fail and to feel weak because it pushes me on. I love being challenged and feeling everyone is against me (bear in mind, it's not true at all, I have many people around who love me), I love feeling alone (which sometimes is all true).

So at the venerable age of 38 and half, I am certain that I am still far from reaching my true potential, and I am certain that sooner or later I will clip that chain and I will top out on that boulder.

So my friends, dont' dream it, be it. I wish you to succeed easily on your projects. I wish you to find yourselves on top of that boulder, or clipping that chain, as if you'd done nothing, easily, with no training or suffering.

But I still wish myself to succeed after a long and hard fight, because I know that if I do so, I'll never stop.



Source: TOTOLORE

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TO MALC, OR NOT TO MALC, THAT IS THE QUESTION
14 August 2010, 9:29 am

As you may or may not know, I have recently ticked a couple of lines; one was a repeat, but with a broken foothold and a different exit, and one was "I Mulini", Tom's project for me from last year.

These two problems, that together pack in the mindblowing amount of nine moves, are snatchy and painful, and overall hard. I have some grades in my mind, but due to the particular nature of the problems, I will keep them in my mind for a while.

They don't count anyway: they could also be Font 6a, the fact is that I found them hard, I tried them without doing them for a while, and then I did them. That's a personal progress with no doubt.

So, what's the point?

As you do know, I am a bit obsessed by the power aspect of climbing. I know I'm not exactly weak, but for sure I don't feel strong, when I compare myself to the true strong ones.

So, right now, I am in a precarious situation: I feel weak but I know I have ticked. Hmm... should I resist the call of the sirens flattering my ego, chanting that I am a strong one, and inducing me to go straight to my projects; or shouldn't I?

You already know. I will resist.

Between "to Malc" or "not to Malc" I will always choose "to Malc". Because Malc not only is a beast and a lifetime hero of mine, but because he is always ticking, also.

So, he embodies the two aspects. Not only he's the creator of "Malc's One Armer", a footless one armer on a non existant hold - a feat that some may dismiss as trivial - but he's also the one that tore Cresciano apart. He's the one who chalked up mid-crux on "Hubble". He's the one. Full stop.

As for the one armer, it's a matter of potential: being able to perform one single move at Font 8a, opens up a new world of opportunities, and if you don't understand this, close this blog and don't come back, because you won't find anything for you here.

The world has a limited number of problems. The current grading scale stops at around Font 8c. But our own possibilities, in our minds, are endless. So, I don't want to simply climb the hardest boulder on Earth (Keith, you bastard made me change my mind, do you still remember our conversation in Font?), I want to endlessly progress. And progress can be infinite if we understand it as a goal in itself, rather than a mean to reach a certain grade. That’s why, despite being happy, very happy for the last lines I climbed, I want to concentrate on how weak I feel, on how bad I climb, and on how far away from my goals I am. Because my goals are very hard. But my goals push me forward, bring me under the fingerboard, or in the gym, or doing laps on a toprope. My goals drive me to progress, and my progresses, physical or even just mental ones, take me closer and closer to my goals: so close that at a given point my progresses will cross their path with the path of my goals and I will reach those goals. Luckily, at that moment, my breathing will slow down again, my yells will disappear, and I will picture in my mind a new target, a new goal. This new goal will be the same as ever, the only true goal that I have: progressing.



Source: TOTOLORE

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THE DOLOMITES MAN
23 August 2010, 11:25 am



The air was fresh and the sun was rising from behind the Piz Ciavazes mountain. The first rays of light cut the valley in slices, through the mist of the early morning. It was 7 am, we were already at the base of the route and my head was exploding. I could barely concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, my brain was a cloud of obsessive thoughts, and I was in real pain.

When the alarm went off at 5 am, I felt sure I was going to make it, and I got up ready for the task. How far from reality I was. The offer of the day was the "Dimai Route" on the Punta Grohman, 3156 meters. Two hours approach on a 45° slope and ridge; then a 150 easy terrain to be climbed unroped (a climber died here in July); then 13 pitches; then 7 abseils, with downclimbing up to III; then another hour down the talus.

My mind was producing images of the long horrible way down, and they were terrifying images. I knew I wasn't going to make it, and I told my friends. They looked at me and understood. No one complained, although they could have, because now they were a party of three, so slower and less enjoyable. But my friends are real friends, and the first thing they asked me was: "can you make it to the car on your own?". I said yes, and sat down. I cheered them as they disappeared on the exposed ridge and, taking all the concentration I was capable of, I started the way down. On the grassy slope, after the ridge, I lay down, and with the sun now fully out of the mountain, I fell asleep. There wasn't a single sound in the whole valley, and I started to compose myself.

I knew the epic was nearly over, but I also knew that another epic was just about to start: I wanted to go bouldering now, but the few hours of sleep, and the effort of the walk in had left me knackered. I knew that despite it being only 8.30 am, my day was already over.

I got to the car park and tried to sleep in the car. It was too hot already and too noisy, the first trekkers arriving. So I pulled my finger out and went to the hut. I ordered a double, long coffee in a big cup and a slice of Strudel. I gulped everything down then had another long coffee. I packed my shit and went to the boulders, prepared to have a nap on the crashpads and then play my cards on my project, the famous traverse that I have been wanting to do since last year, when I also watched James try it.

I had tried it in early June, but was unable to put together its 18 moves. You first have to do "Mecca" a hard 7c, then keep going right on far apart edges. Brilliant climbing.

I got there and my first thought wasn't about sleeping, but about cleaning the holds and drying out the many wet ones. My head still a bit of a haze, I touched the rock and felt a strange, pleasant sensation. I found a better sequence on two movements and soon after all I could think about was giving it a go. I tried to sleep a bit, but I felt a urge to climb it. I just couldn't rest, and it wasnt' because of the coffee, because my heart was slow and I was relaxed. I was feeling something. Minutes later, after a couple of fumbled attempts and finally finding the right footholds for the lower part, I had crushed it. Easily. Well not easily, but I had climbed very well, aggressively and precisely. It was over. Another one.

Now I have climbed all the problems I wanted to do there, and this incredible feeling has been with me for the whole Sunday, the day originally planned for the assault. A mixture of satisfaction, joy and emptyness.

Despite feeling very bad in the morning, I went there, I kept the fucking faith and I got it. Needless to say, I couldn't sleep for the rest of the day, and my head really started to hurt, I think the pressure released and my body finally allowed itself to be sick.

My friends had an 11 hours marathon on the route, with a 5 hours long descent. The route was dangerous with rockfall, and Andrea had a close one exploding right to his side.

Just as I was starting to worry, I saw them sliding down the talus. Minutes later we were at the hut, gulping down beers and Radler. Miraculously, the alcohol released my excruciating headhache, and I finally felt good.

At night I slept like a baby.

I have so many thoughts in my mind right now. I wanted to do the problem, but maybe I wasn't ready to do it so quickly. I wasn't prepared. Now I think about what I've done, and cannot fit in the bigger picture, unless I think back to all the time I've dedicated to it in one way or another. I have done hundreds of pullups, hours of deadhangs,  and even the odd route. I haven't stopped thinking about the goal for a second. Progressing, progressing, progressing.

My progression had crossed again the path of my projects and I have ticked. Now it's time to move on, even though I have to say that I feel very very empty now.

The problem is given 8a+. Is it? Before doing it, it was. Now, I dont' know. Did it seem easy? I don't know. I just did it: it's transformed now, it became just a thing that I wanted to do and I have done.

So in my personal grading scale, it gets the "F" grade: "fatto" - "done". Again, I want to think in terms of progression instead of in terms of reaching a specific goal: I was impressed, a few weeks back, when I found myself reading these same words on Dave MacLeod's book (page 119, just in case you want to check).

Fuck me, I really really don't understand this all: it's got no sense at all. I shouldn't have done it this way. It's a nonsense.



Source: TOTOLORE

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SILENT STRIKE, LOUD THOUGHTS
25 August 2010, 1:01 pm

When one is not able to understand, I think the best solution is to pause, and to let things settle, before getting to wrong assumptions. I don't try to force myself into finding an answer, I don't push myself into a deep self-analysis: I let my feelings, rather than my brain, guide me.

As you know, I came back from the Dolomites with a mixture of satisfaction, surprise and emptyness. In my mind, I have a whole lot of quite obsessive thoughts, the main one being that the problem I have climbed cannot be 8a+. I don't know why I bother, but I simply think that I can't climb that grade that way, because it's bloody hard, and on that problem I didn't have such a hard time. I was alone, also, as I am when I train. I don't know anyone who's climbed the problem and the only other reference that I have is that James didn't flash it. This being alone, leaves a lot of room, in my mind, the mind of a man who's never sure about himself, for many doubts. Sometimes these doubts must leave room to facts: for instance, when I can hang a hold that a friend can't. I know I am not weak, but one thing is to hang a hold and a completely different thing is getting a problem done.

I say it again, I don't even understand why I bother. I think it could be that I don't want to be too happy for something that could be not worth it. Again, happiness is happiness and it's always worth it. I found the answer, this time, in thinking that that problem was something I liked, something I wanted to climb, and that I did it, while previously I couldn't. The grade should lose importance, under this perspective; sadly it does not. Grades are important for me because they are a measure of improvement: I am happy to add a rung to my campusing; I am happy to add 5 seconds to a deadhang; but I am far happier to climb a problem that everyone else find hard, or to jump up a grade in the Font scale.

In all this process of self questioning, suddenly something put me on the right path to make some progress into this labyrinth of my mind: in the last few days, I've been feeling completely spent, empty. The sense of satisfaction is still there, but emptyness is much more.

I must have done something really important and big for myself, if now I feel so empty, I could almost say depressed.

Again, this is a very incomplete answer. I think the only useful answer is to move on to the next goal. This time, maybe, it coud be smart to be ready to accept success. Because success is what I'll have.  



Source: TOTOLORE

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FRIENDS AND BULLS
12 September 2010, 2:40 pm

The lack of posts, as of late, is due to one simple fact. I had nothing interesting to say. With this, I don't want to say that everytime I post here I say something worth reading, but simply that I have something that it's interesting for me.

I have trained. That's as interesting as it is boring to read about.

I have sport climbed. That's interesting, because I enjoyed it alot again and also got good results, in terms of a nice 7c+ done second go.

Then I have trained more.

The reason I am posting now, is because, not finding a partner to go sport climbing today, I am here at home, reflecting over what happened yesterday.

Briefly, I climbed to new problems that I had spotted months ago. The first one is a powerful arete under a 50° overhang, that I called "Islero".

The other one is a cool eliminate traverse on slopey crimps that I called "Love and Peace da Isa B.".

I am sad I don't have video footage of "Islero" because it's one of the best problems I've ever done. The wind was blowing from NE, and despite the wood being humid, I couldn't complain about conditions. Success, once again, happened because of the presence of friend Giulio, who had already spotted me on "Tailgunner" in march, giving me the needed confidence to slap for the jug, with the rocks below menacing my ass in case of a miss.

It's hard to describe the happiness I felt after the ascent. I woke up knowing I was going to do it, but as usual when I actually tried the moves, reality kicked in. I kept the fucking faith and kept myself at it, and before I could reflect over it, it was done and I was screaming on top of the boulder. It's a drug. But much more powerful.

I named the problem after the 495 kilos Miura bull that killed Manolete, Spain's greatest torero of all time. With this name I don't want to celebrate the death of a man, but simply pay my respects to the huge display of power and agility that Islero was.

Still high from this much awaited success, I took my time to reflect, and to reap the reward for my dedication. A few sips of Bowmore 8 Years Old from the flask my girlfriend gave me a few weeks ago - just when I was thinking about buying one, shocking indeed - launched me instantly into the stratosphere. Then I packed and left.

Not much later I had done also the traverse, and all I could think about was the great day I had just had.

Those two problems may not be hard, but they meant something for me. The first time I tried the traverse I was shouting at every move. Yesterday I almost flashed it and did it second go, a perfect silent strike.

I realizied that, despite being at a deserted crag, I was not alone. My girlfriend was there, with the flask. My friend Andrea had given me the whisky for Xmas. I had my number 8 arm band from Tom and Rich, and in my mind "it tastes like victory" from Keith was resounding loudly.

I was on top. I was so fucking proud of myself. I gave everything I had in terms of commitment, and I got the prize.

The more I put into climbing, the more I get from it.

Now I could tell you about the routes I want to do, the route I wanted to be doing today, and the boulders that live in my mind and in my dreams. But I don't want to make this blog too interesting.

Oh yes, I've grown a beard.



Source: TOTOLORE

[a dense loner]

nice. i've got a german pr0n beard

[Nibile]

excellent: it allows you to keep your socks and adidas on, when making love!

[Jim]

I'm too old now for making love, but I also have a beard and I also got into sport climbing and am enjoying it.
Lore, you need to get your arse over to the UK again. The cave is calling you. I will be there on wednesday

[Nibile]

Jim my friend,
I am constantly thinking about coming back. I hope my boss will give me a couple of weeks off, my plan is to come over the first two weeks of november. I want to make it this year, last year I didn't plan it well enough and now I highly regret it.

[comPiler]

PICS FROM SWIZZY
3 October 2010, 9:52 am

Satisfaction at the end of the weekend.

Testing testing 1,2,3...

A new problem on "Souvenir" boulder.

"Souvenir". I decided to skip the mono, a move far too precarious for a problem so far away from home. Hold the sloper and dyno to the jug, it will be.

An excellent 7a and an excellent pic from Fede.Filo spotting.

So, Chironico came and went. My strongest memory is a deep feeling of happiness, for sharing perfect boulders and good times with some very good friends, after too long. Just at the beginning of the first day, I immediately understood I wasn't going to be able to stick to a project: we were a buch of psyched beasts, and the desire to climb as much as possible was too strong even for me.

I didn't try anything for more than 5 minutes, despite feeling very strong especially the saturday morning, before skin loss and lactic acid made a strong couple. In hindsight I think I sould have tried "Komilator" because it was early morning and cool, and I fondled the holds and felt really really strong. It's all in the mind, so I think I could have followed the call. Anyway.

Everyone ticked for two days, with an impressively fast ascent of "Birds" from Filo. I got home smashed with a big bunch of 7's flashed. It's been good and relaxing to release the pressure of projects for once, and just enjoy the volume, which luckily always teamed with quality.

This pressure will come back for sure very soon, and I will be comfortable with it.

So after this trip I took four days off to recover skin and muscle fibers, and went back to the Beast for some quick recruitment.

It was a long time since the last time, especially the one arm dead hangs, so I was eager to test my strength loss.

Surprise surprise: I found strength gains. I held the 45° slopers three times, even if for just two or three seconds and with a slight nestle, but it's been a huge huge step forward. Then I managed to hang the back two pockets for what seemed an eternity, easily in the 30 seconds range. I held the 35° slopers one armed with some ease and also the small three finger pockets. The way is clearly this one.

I went on rock yesterday, in humid, terrible conditions, but again with good friends Mark and Bengio, pullers of Amiata rock. Spirits were high, fingers were strong and despite not being able to repeat the sitter of "Mind the Gap" (7c?), I beasted into submission the proper sitter to "Islero". The original problem started from a rock, because I wanted to get it done and because it's logical, but it's also logical not to sit on the rock and grab the lowest holds. At the end of the day, frustrated (nomen omen? surely not) from the other problem, I thought "let's try it" and magically did all the moves, quickly linking them from the sitter to the last third of the problem. Now I cant' wait to get back on it to give it full birth. "Islero" will become a perfect sitter and probably an easy 8a.

Next weekend I will go to Rome for "U2" in concert, then probably Amiata sunday for some bullfighting.



Source: TOTOLORE

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FRIENDS WHO HELP
9 October 2010, 7:57 am

Thanks to Toni from Toscoclimb, my shoe fetish has just been renewed and feeded.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

THE PLAN
10 October 2010, 7:28 am

My friend is once again late, so maybe I can use this spare time to collect a few thoughts.

I have a plan.

Today I go to Amiata new sector, where I climb "Islero sit start".

Tomorrow I will leave everything else in terms of climbing behind, and I will only be thinking, breathing, eating, dreaming my two projects.

I think this is the first time I speak so openly about them, and somehow it's liberating. The fact that my projects could be a strong climber's warmup is of no importance: those are projects for me, so I have to prepare for them as they require. The other fact, that I no longer have a wall to train and climb at, is again of no importance: I will do the best that I can with what I have, and that must do. How can I tell? It's very simple: because I will keep doing it until it will do.

I have a bouldering project, which is climbing Font 8b.

And for the first time in a decade, I have a sport climbing project, which is climbing an 8c.

These two dreams will come into reality under the gentle forms of "Amber" in Brione, and "Sanjski Par" in Misja Pec.

There are many reasons for my choice of these two fine pieces of climbing. For "Amber", it's because it's beautiful, and although maybe a bit complex on the logistics, it's perfect for me because I can climb it on my own, without having to search for a spotter, a thing that I require very often and for sure I will need for my other projects that are close to where I live. It may sound as a paradox, but it's easier for me to drive 400 kms on my own only to go and do "Amber", than to find two spotters for a boulder that is one hour away. I know there are friends who would come, but climbing Font 8b will be hard on its own, I don't need the extra pressure of always finding a partner.

Then, "Sanjski Par". Another project that is hours and hours away. I don't care. I spent one of my best climbing weekends there with Tadej this past winter, and I just fell in love with the route. It's everything I search in a route: short, powerful, low to the ground and historical.

Now it's time. Oh yeah it's time.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

THE ACTION
11 October 2010, 6:06 pm

Yesterday I went to Amiata new sector, where I climbed "Islero sit start". I had a plan, and that was the result.

It's been no gimmie. I was sure I was going to do it, but I must admit that at times doubt creeped into my fragile mind.

I also made a few schoolboy errors. I decided to warm up on easy problems, and that's what I did, but that warm up turned to be many problems long. I also managed to get me a microscopic but incredibly deep slice in my right ring finger; the idea of having to tape it up wasn't very appealing, given that "Islero" only offers slopers to be compressed, but I had to. Then, somehow in Chironico I managed to lose both my brushes, and I didn't have my brush stick. My friend neither, so I didn't know how to brush the holds from the patina of humidity first, and from the excess chalk later. I resolved firstly to brush them using a chestnut shell but it proved to be painful, so I used my metal brushes with all the needed delicacy. I can be delicate at times.

Anyway, it was time. I had the sequence in my mind, and I executed. I felt strong on all the moves up to the last tricky move, where I missed the hold and fell. Then I fell again on the following try, but on the fucking second move. I had gone from almost doing the problem first go, to being unable to stick two moves in a row. "This shit is hard!" I thought.

In just two goes the problem had take its toll out of me. I tried again the second move and was able to do it in isolation, but not on every go. Shocking. Doubts. Fear. I wanted to get it done on that session.

I found out a slightly different option for my left foot, and there I went again. And again I fell on the high move of the first try. "This shit is definitely hard".

This move is a bit precarious: you have a good hold on the arete for your right hand, and a decent pinch for the left hand; you have a left drop knee, right foot on a bad foothold, and you have to bump again your left hand to a higher pinch, but you have to get into it, precisely, you can't overshoot and fall onto it.

I decided to see if I could skip this tricky move, moving out from a hold that is easily 20 cm below with a harder but less tricky move. It worked. It was on, but the phantom of the second move was hanging around.

I set off, and the moves started coming. I flew past the second move not without a serious effort, and I found myself at the higher part; I had my new sequence and despite feeling a bit of grease on a hold (I can't even recall which one), I kept going and found myself with my right hand on the jug. I matched, and then I decided to cut loose: for a nanosecond I though about the possibility of falling off, but when I realized my though I was already good on the jug, and at that moment, I don't know why instead of heelhooking again on the arete with my right foot, I just campused to the final jugs and toped out.

My friend told me that when I held the (minimal, to be honest) swing, a huge smile appeared on my face, and I believe him.

I let go a scream of joy and a horrible swear, then I got down. It was done. I had a plan and I had stuck to it.

On the way home, we found a terrible queue to get into Florence, so I got a bit angry on the phone with the girl, and she told me "Hey don't spoil your great day, think about the problem!" and time passed easily while I was reliving those moments.

Minutes later, I saw a beautiful girl at the wheel of a car to our right in the queue. I smiled at her when we moved forward, and when they caught us I was surprised to see her smile back to me. So this nice flirt went on for a few times as we moved forward and then she followed, until we got to the motorway and she disappeared. It's been very very nice.

Today I stuck to the second part of the plan, with a good Beastmaker session on one armed dead hangs.

KEEEP THAT FUCKING FAITH.  



Source: TOTOLORE

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BEAST MAKING!
19 October 2010, 2:01 pm

Years ago, during a dinner with climbing friends, I said that "some training session have given me more pleasure than some fucks". It's note a phrase I'm particularly proud of; for sure I'm very proud of the session in which I did this.

from lorenzo frusteri on Vimeo.



Source: TOTOLORE

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BACK TO THE FUTURE
7 November 2010, 11:54 am

Time stopped and then started going backwards. From the 21st century I find myself catapulted back into the early '90s again.

At the time, all I could do to move up in the sport climbing scale, was to hang and pull small bits of wood in my parents' house cellar, surrounded by spiderwebs covering old and precious wine bottles, while listening to heavy metal audio tapes.

On friday, when at the phone with my climbing friends to arrange the weekend, each one of us would ask the others the same question: "did you train this week?" and each one of us, each time, would give the same answer: "not at all. I was too busy.".

The following day, you could see people lock down small crimps to the hips with a huge grin.

This went on for 8 years. 8 years of fingerboarding in a cellar. Then came the campus board, and it felt like having the greatest training facility in the world. Then, three years ago, I finally knew what's like to have a climbing wall in your own town, when I moved to Florence.

Now I am back to 1993.

The wall is no longer there and what is available for the moment is not enough to satisfy my Wille Zur Macht. Slightly overhanging walls with big holds are NOT the way forward.

So it's back to the future for me: back to the fingerboard to get to the future of my climbing. And I fucking love it. I really do love this shit. The harder it gets to move forward, the harder I push, the stronger I get, both physically and mentally. The more I put into it, the more I get back. So, each one of you, please, take a look into yourselves, see your future and do everything you can to get there. You'll love it.  



Source: TOTOLORE

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PREPARATION
14 November 2010, 3:46 pm

"Success is no accident" you may have read somewhere (I hope you did).

Today, after thinking about it and talking about it far too much, I finally pulled the proverbial finger out, and with fellow crusher Nicco I went to Sasso, just to start building a decent landing under the infamous overhang project.

This is a stellar line, found many years ago, when the idea of the perfect bouldering day was still to climb as many problems as possible. Another era.

Now the idea is to climb the hardest problems. This is one of those. The breakage of a crucial hold moved the grade up that little bit that can make all the difference.

Unluckily it has, or should I say "it had", a terrible landing of jagged rocks. One of these little bastards, together with my idiocy, manged to snap my right ankle two weeks ago, and I wasn't even climbing... Today I tried to beast that small rock into submission only to find out that it's a very big rock whose top only is visible. Despite managing to shift it a little bit I wasn't able to turn it on its flat side, so I decided to fill it all around with logs: one must know when to change his mind.

Then we patioed most of the rest of the landing, and we reckon that with another visit it will be done.

So, after fixing the landing, I will start working the problem and then I will do it. As simple as it gets.

Is this interesting to read? No, but it's important. Ciao.



Source: TOTOLORE

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BIG NUMBERS!
16 November 2010, 10:37 am

I must have eaten well yesterday, because despite working alot as usual as of late (I had been told that as a teacher you'd work little and climb much... Andrea you bastard!), I had an excellent Beastmaker session with some PB's.

I hadn't climbed on Sunday, as said I just started fixing the landing on the project, and knowing that I would not climb today, I decided to go for a little bit of power AND volume: pull ups, that is.

I did my routine of 5 pull ups in 10 seconds for 6 sets for each hold type. I did the first three sets with my legs in an L-seat, to give my belly a good beasting.

Then I started working my way through the harder holds, and with some surprise I found myself completing all the pull ups on holds I previously found very hard, like the back 2 and the mid 2 on the small pockets. I also completed again all the hangs on the small monos, and started working them on index fingers also.

I finished the session (and my muscle fibers) with a generous set on the small rungs: 10 seconds hang back 3 immediately followed by 5 pull ups with a normal 4 fingers half crimp.

By the end of that last set my forearms were sweating lactic acid and I was the strongest man on Earth (in my mind), with a total of 240 pull ups. Not much, if compared to the true monsters, but hey, you have to start somewhere.

So I'm happy, especially for the back 2, but also for the volume, which, on the moment, I handled quite well; now, though, I feel the bastard evil monsters called DOMS creep up my back and arms. Aminoacid pills and some huge sandwiches should address them right, waiting for dinner.

Now I will start splitting these sessions into pulling sessions and hanging sessions: this way I should be able to start working other grip types without having to take a day off from work to have the necessary time. Yesterday it all took more than two hours.

The future will see adding some weights to both my Beast sessions and on the wall, because I bought a weight vest (thanks to Paul's suggestions); then I will start doing maximal hangs, two armed, on the holds I find the hardest to manage, like small monos (middle and index fingers), 45°, slopey pockets front 2, small rungs back 3 and front 3.

This should keep me  busy for a while. The sky's the limit, and the aim is to tick my first Font 8b ON THE BEASTMAKER, following the Beasts' charts (I accept suggestions for short, 2/3 moves routines of that overall grade to be done footless - and yes, I am DEAD SERIOUS and also completely nuts).

So now I have some good sessions quite refined: volume sessions, two armed maximal hangs sessions and one armed maximal hangs sessions. It feels as some kind of training pr0n.

What else? Oh, yes, these next weeks should see the birth of the first hard core, old school wall in town: courtesy of fellow crusher, one arm 90° lock off record holder (55 seconds, blimey!) Cristiano, "The Wailing Wall" is nearly there, in his garage.

This will bring new psyche and power, beyond the imaginable. According  to Jerrys's suggestions and inspiration, we chose the holds so that "for the first month we must not be able to link more than one move". The plan is to complete the first problem five months from now.

And that's entertainment.



Source: TOTOLORE