[grimer]

Do you mean Nubile as in 'nubbily' Robin?

Thanks Nibile, I'll think about that e. And where we're from we prefer the phrase 'your man'.

We likes your blog 

[Nibile]

thanks Niall. may I remember that the final phrase of one of your articles on Climbing Magazine back in the day really really impressed me and is well printed in my mind still after all these years, so I thank you again.

[comPiler]

PLASTIC SOUL
29 September 2011, 6:09 pm

I am mad for my board. It's mine and it's the best. Most of all, being mine, it has my rules. If you come here, and you want to touch it, you have to follow my rules, you can't do anything about it.

I am training regularly since completing it, the last weeks have seen three sessions on plastic, one easy day on rock mid week, and one "serious" day on rock in the weekend. I have put the Beastmaker aside for the moment, the last sessions on it had been very hard and my back 2 were a bick achey.

My training on the board consists in setting an easy problem, a harder problem to be completed in the session, and a project for the following session; to the present this has worked fine, I stuck to the program and pulled as hard as I could: the texture of the holds is still pretty rough, they have excellent friction but sessions can't last long because of skin. Anyway I can't last long either but I keep intensity quite high.  

I keep focusing on core tension as usual, and I alternate shorter snatchy moves and long pulls.

I am satisfied, even not entirely, by the holds selection: I could not see them before, so I had to trust the manufacturer when I gave him the board details, and to be honest he sent me really nice holds, maybe a little bit too good for my likes, but the plan is to soon place 1 cm thick foot jibs and to ban the use of the holds as foot holds. This should sort things out, 1 cm is small, especially if they are perpendicular to a 53° board.

I've been having a project from the last four sessions now and it's hard. Want to climb it tomorrow, today it was simply too hard.

And there you go a little video.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

KNOW YOUR ENEMY
7 October 2011, 10:08 am



In the pics, some moments of rediscovered joy in the storm of my emotions.

The enemy is insensitiveness.

There I was, in Chironico, seemengly unaffected. I could not understand, at moments, whether I really wanted to be there or not, and I had been waiting for these two weeks off for ages. Why? The excuses I gave myself were many: temps in the high 30° being the first one.

But there's much more. There's what Stu blogs about here, there's the grade chase, and there's my enormous ego, which teamed to a baby, naive mind, generate monsters: one monster, me.

The idea was to go to Swizzy for two weeks to climb an 8b. I had a few ones marked and I wanted to take my time to find the best suited for me.

But then again, something was deeply wrong with me: being there all alone, with boiling temps simply was too much to bear, and I sheltered myself in insensitiveness, acting as if the place was packed with psyched climbers and conditions were pristine.

As you can imagine, the clash between mind and reality has only one possible winner.

At moments I really felt it's time to quit. I'm tired. I feel lonely and I am lonely. I can't bear anymore to be climbing on my own all the time, unable to soak other people's energy and happiness. It's not worth it, if I go to Swizzy and I don't want to be there.

Then something changed. I don't know what. Maybe finally toping out on a problem that had spit me off in previous visits. Maybe finally finding again the joy in the simple fact of being there, doing what I love, in the chase rather than the catch. Because if it's true that not every chase ends with a catch, it's also true that every catch has a chase before. Enjoy the battle.

I really don't know. I really don't understand. The only thing I'm sure of, is that I need others as I need air, and I need emotions in everything that I do. I have to desire a problem to climb it, I can't simply climb it because it's dry or in the shade: I have to somehow see it and get an instant crush for it. Maybe it's going to be a one night stand, or a love story, or a disaster, but emotions have to be in the game. Otherwise it's not a game worth playing.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

STILL BEING THERE, BEING STILL
9 October 2011, 4:03 pm



Some video stills from the latest trips to the project. Analyze. Repeat. Get perfect.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

TIME
13 October 2011, 8:00 am

I came back from Swzzy with a mixture of disappointment and fullfillment. A strange way to feel, for sure. Then I found out, in retrospective, that probably I've had a rather successful trip.

After a day off, I went to my project and hiked it to the last move, twice. I climbed as I had never climbed before, I felt like a beast, calm, relaxed, precise.

So I'm thinking a lot, in these days, about time.

Years ago, the future was represented by the first half of the roof line. And that future one day became reality, a reality named "Il Primo dei Moicani". So the line of the horizon shifted further, and another future, this one barely visible, or maybe just imaginable, came along.

One other day in March, with grey clouds hovering, my girlfriend spotting, and the first warm breeze of spring getting closer, I made that future a reality. Again.

So, things settled down for a while, while I imagined other possible futures. Meanwhile, what had previously been a PB became routine: it was time to move on.

When I first started trying the project I was barely able to link two moves in a row. Then I got the first section and got to the crux completely wasted. Then I stuck the move once, then twice, still being unable to move from that.

Now I can get the move, I can cruise further, and I feel strong.

This is the present, not the future.

I don't remember exactly what I did this past summer, but whatever I did, it worked.

In this process of constantly turning future into present, dream into reality, I found myself with something really unexpected: I had never, never imagined that one day, close to my 40s, I would have found myself under my home board, with my friend Andrea, pulling holds as hard as we can, after all these years still psyched, no that's wrong: much more psyched than ever.

It's like turning young again.



Source: TOTOLORE

[JohnM]

Great post 

[comPiler]

BLEEDIN' BIVI LEDGES!
19 October 2011, 1:44 pm

In the pic, some bleedin' bivi ledges.

I came out from these two weeks of holidays with a nice feeling of success, but also seriously worked. My last session on the wall, while providing still failure on the plastic project, left me with a very painful right ring finger.

I managed to gently (cough!) climb on it on Saturday, then I followed my previous plan of taking two weeks off, something that my entire body seemed to need.

Unfortunately, my mind needs fun, and as you all know "climbing is fun". So until now I rested but am planning to have a very gentle, introductory Beastmaker session tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I carved some nice (in my opinion) holds to spice up the wall, and provide some crimps that load the fingers evenly, a crucial requisite to keep injuries at bay. I also made a lot of small footholds: they don't make the handholds any smaller, but they make them harder to hang and the problems obviously harder.

The plan is to rest, get gently into training, then start training again in one or two weeks, eyes firmly planted on the prizes.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

7:13 AM
27 October 2011, 9:37 am



I really really like to train in the morning. That's something that I'd never thought possible. As the pics show, skin is a little bit of an issue as of late, that caused me some hard times on rock, but nothing special. This should have been my second week of complete rest, but I didn't even do the first one. I did a session on the board yesterday, finally managing, on my 7th session on it, to climb my project IN TWO HALVES. Success is closer. I hope it's hard, because it's giving me a hell of a time. I did a couple of easy morning sessions on the Beast, getting back into it as gently as possible, still trying to keep my right ring finger quiet: I found out that it's safer to push it on the fingerboard than on the wall, on which you can't control how you'll catch a hold on a hard move, and that's dangerous. The overall feeling is OK, and I managed to set a personal best on the back2 pockets, with some nice 32 seconds. Beastmaker and home board. Is it the formula for greatness?



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

SYSTEM TRAINING
29 October 2011, 10:58 am

I decided to think a bit more seriously about my training. Bouldering on my board is fantastic, but there's much more I can do on it, as the video shows.

Despite being in decent form as of late, this system session on underclings and crimps (these second ones not in the video) left my biceps and back seriously worked, a clear sign that bouldering isn't enough.

I got back to teaching climbing classes (it seems like that this "teaching" thing appeals me really - maybe some low self esteem problems?) and it's great. It always shocks me when someone tells me "You made it looks easy" because they seem to forget (or they just don't know) that I've been climbing and training for almost nineteen years now, so I don't know what to say.

Rest today, rock and roll tomorrow.

Here's the vid.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

A STORY
27 October 2011, 5:56 pm

Under the grey sky, a man and a woman were sitting on the church stairs, holding each other tight, hand in hand, gently kissing.

They seemed not to care about the wind that was blowing a light rain right against them, or more probably they simply did not notice it, as they probably did not notice that every passer by in the small, ancient square, stopped or slightly slowed his pace down, to have a look at them; because there, in that square and in that moment, they were the image of love and romanticism.

The way the man was rubbing her cold hands, and the kisses she was giving on his right cheek, pictured a happy couple in love, all tenderness, far from every vulgarity.

They were sharing their last moments together.

In a matter of minutes, that very afternoon, they were going to bid farewell.

This separeted them even more from everyone else in the square, in the ancient town and in the vast world: they were feeling as the last survivors, deprived of all hope.

"How are you?" asked the man, moving her hair from her face and discovering her eyes.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. And how are you?"

"I'm sad. I'm very sad. I did not want this to happen. It wasn't my intention."

"Oh, so we can be sincere now? - a quick smile crossed her face, colliding with her expression - So, no, I'm not fine. I don't deserve this. Not again."

His heart sank.

"I am sorry - he tried to say - I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to play with you."

"You started it all. Why?"

"I was trying to be happy. I always wanted something to happen between us, only, I didn't expect it to be so out of my control."

He paused, and they became silent for a while. She put her head on his right shoulder, pulling the coat neck tight under her chin, it was very cold, then she put her frozen hands between his thighs, so naturally that it was impossible to consider it sexual or even less, gross. They were perfect.

Three days before, when everything had just begun, the sun shone on their first, innocent date. To be honest, it was innocent only for one of them. The small restaurant remained empty, after the last customer paid and went out in the early afternoon, while they, again unaware of anything else but them, kept talking as if they'd been friends for ages, but at the same time discovering each other as two complete strangers. The owner let them alone. Life was still beautiful when the first sign of the close future made its appearence under the form of a simple, plain, honest question.

"Do you live on your own or with someone?" she asked.

"On my own." he quickly replied.

The sun kept shining, but worriedly now.

Now, under the rain, worry was all that was left.

The square was becoming crowded, despite the bad weather; kids were going to come out of the nearby kindergarten in a few minutes, and parents gathered around the entrance with umbrellas and hats. No one had imagined, that morning, that it would have rained; no one but him. He knew it was going to rain, he always checks the weather forecast.

They still were in the same position, hugging. Not a single person managed to pass in front of them without observing what they were showing. Showing.

A man simply stopped to watch them for a few seconds, shamelessly, but then he smiled. An old couple seemed to have a judging look, but when they passed the old man put his arm around his wife's shoulder.

Then the children came out, yells all around. The man and the woman turned towards the noise and all they could see was a sea of colours, chaotically moving everywhere: red, yellow, brown, black, white, under the forms of jackets, raincoats, light hair, dark hair, eyes, faces. Colours, colours everywhere, moving and screaming. Screaming colours. This time it was their time to look and smile, and they became even more perfect.

The parents started taking the kids home, some by car, some by bike, some by foot. One kid was running on the edge of the church stairs, closely followed by his younger brother; as soon as he noticed the couple, he ran towards them and looking at them directly in the eyes, he asked the man: "What's your name?". In the meanwhile, his mother called him, telling not to disturb. "My name is Francesco." the man replied. "And what's your second name?" "Luca! - the mother yelled - do not disturb them!" "My second name is Lorenzi." "And what's your name?" the kid asked to the woman. "Luca! Stop it". "My name is Veronica." "And your second name?" "Bassi." and she laughed. "My name is Luca Doretti." the kid said. "And my name is Andrea Do-ret-ti." spelled the younger brother. "He is my brother." "And what are you doing here?" he managed to ask, just before his mother took his hand and pulled him away. "Let them, do not disturb! I'm sorry guys, he's shameless!".

"There's no problem, really!" they both said. "Ciao."

Then they remained alone.

"That's an interesting question the boy made. What are we doing here?" she asked.

"I am trying to be happy. As happy as I can, for as long I can, with you."

She did not bear his direct stare, and bent her head down on her knees, her black hair covering her face.

He thought about the previous days.

Despite the initial lie, he didn't manage to keep it to himself, and on their next date he told her everything: he was in a relationship he did not like anymore, yet he didn't know what to do. He knew there was still something between him and his girlfriend, but he feared it was something more like a brother like love, than a consuming passion and desire, as in the first years.

He was desperately searching for some feelings, he was trying to find the prove that he wasn't dead inside. He needed to be happy again, and now he had her, to try to.  

He was feeling trapped, and the worst thing was that his indecision was hindering his happiness now, the happiness he knew he could live with her, even there, on those stairs, under that rain.

After the shock, she did not run away. She simply said "So it's over". And then she kissed and hugged him. Then they kissed again and again and they both understood that nothing was over, that nothing could ever be over untill they would have been free to live they happiness together completely.

Above all, he was thinking about the day before, when they met to say goodbye, and they ended up in a nice bar, on a sofa, drinking red wine and staying very close. They'd been talking about their situation for hours, she knew she had to run away from him because she was very fragile in that moment, and he knew he had started something that had escaped his control, and also he had lied to her in the beginning. Still, he didn't manage to keep his lie.

They were calm and sad, and they had agreed not to meet anymore.

They went to the bar to warm up a little bit, they relaxed, and they started a new conversation, not about their problems, but about their lives, cinema, art, music.

All of a sudden everything else disappeared. Homes, relationships, everything vanished in front of their current happiness. They forgot their promise and they kissed again.

Then she brought her legs on the sofa, she put her head on his shoulder, and quietly fell asleep for a few minutes in the bar, hugging him. He caressed her back and not a single thing in the world was wrong. They were the world and they were beautiful and right.

Today, they were almost in the same position, but under a cold windy rain.

Incredibly enough, he still felt they were the world, and they still were beautiful and right.

"You moved something in me, that I thought I had lost." she said. "I'm sorry, I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop thinking that once we'd say goodbye, you'll get back home and you won't be alone."

"You're right. I won't be alone, but I'll feel alone".

"I will try to forget you if you ask me to."

"I don't know anything anymore. I only know that I feel good and happy with you. The moments we've shared are my belongings now. I will never lose them."

"I don't know if I can forget you."

"I don't want to forget you."

"I would like to just be free to live our story. I don't care for how long, and I don't care about how it could go. I only want to be free to live you."

"I'm sorry - he said - it's my fault. I haven't been fair. I knew I was in a relationship when I first called you. But that seemed right at the moment, and I always wanted something to happen between us. I really really like you."

"Don't say you're sorry. You only lied to me for one afternoon. The following day I knew everything and it did not stop me to call you again and to look for you again."

Now it was almost dark, and the street lights started giving everything an orange tone.

"There's no place for me." she said.

In that moment, he felt as if he'd remained the last man on Earth. He felt all the burden of his behaviour, and he asked himself whether he'd only searched some ego gratification, at her expense. "This is the price to pay for me - he thought - and I'll never be able to fully pay it."

"Let's go away. Go away." she said.

They stood up, trying to loosen their frozen bodies, but still hugging tight.

"Can you belive - she reflected loudly - that we are in this mess, and we've been togheter for only four afternoons? And we didn' even make love! We really didn't do anything wrong!"

"We didn't do anything wrong, no. We had a happy time together, didn't we? I was thinking that it's all or nothing now. I want to stay with you completely and free from everything else, or not at all. I don't want anymore to turn my phone off, for fear of an undesired call from home."

"All or nothing. That's the same for me. Sadly for me it's nothing, as it seems."

He wanted to cry, so he hugged her even tighter.

Then they went down the stairs towards their bikes.

"Isn't this romantic? We meet at the bikes racks!"

She smiled, with her broad smile and her dark eyes. Her light skin, her red lips and her black hair created a contrast so beautiful that she seemed to be constantly changing. Transforming from beauty to a different beauty.

Time seemed to slow down.

Words lacked.

"So..." she said, looking down.

"So..." he said.

Their last hug lasted an eternity and an instant at the same time.

With wet eyes they finally detached: first their heads, then their bodies, then finally their hands.

"So, what's our place in the bigger picture? What's our meaning in the world's history?" she asked.

"Tough one - he paused. Then he asked - have you seen how everyone looked at us?"

"Yes, they seemed nice to us, they seemed to like us."

"That's our place in the bigger picture. That's our meaning. We've been here in these days to make people believe that true love exists."

"Is ours a true love now?" she laughed, maybe a bit bitterly.

"It doesn't matter. But people look at us, and see a true love."

"And that's enough." she ended.

She offered her hand to him. He took it and caressed it. They looked deeply into each other's eyes.

"Ciao Francesco".

"Ciao Ve."

Then they went, and never turned back.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

THREE MONTHS IN TWO DAYS
10 November 2011, 3:40 pm

Last week I mutated.

After  months of unstructured training, unexpected results came. Nothing in  terms of climbing projects - this mutation dates back to mid October -  but in terms of pure power levels.

First,  I dominated the 45° on my Beastmaker, setting my PB at 15" (with my  previous one being 3"... so five times...); I know that I have done 35"  (twice) at The Hangar in Liverpool in February, but on my Beast my PB was 3". Now it's 15".

OK, I had cleaned the holds.

OK, I hadn't gone to work.

Ok, my hands had the perfect mixture of dry and sweaty skin to remain attached to those terrible holds.

Still... I don't get it. Five times better than my previous best attempts is a lot.

Mutation.

Then, just five days later, and on my second day on, I went to Area 51   gym to pass a rainy Sunday. My skin was very thin and I could not  boulder everything I wanted, but in the end I had great fun for around  2,5 hours. When I had already stopped climbing, I found myself fondling a  flat, 2nd joint wooden edge on the fingerboard. The wooden surface felt  fresh and grippy and I gave it a go.

I  did the strongest one arm pull up I've ever done. I went up as if I'd  been pulled by a giant magnet; I fully locked off in shock for some  seconds, then I jumped off.

The world  was different then, and I felt it was the right time to get serious. So,  with no longer rest than the time to chalk up a little bit (there was  no need really but you never know...) I got the hold again and did five  one armers. Two on my left arm.

I know  that five is not that much compared to the many more of the strong ones  (Keith, Paul, Ru, Riccardo are just a few names that come to my mind  right now, not to tell about Malc, Rich, Stuart), but I have never been  this strong before, not even on a pull up bar, let alone on a flat edge.  Plus, in the last years I have trained one armers for one month in  total, in August, so a total of 8 sessions in August plus one in spring  that fucked my left elbow up.

I wonder  where these feats come from. I for sure want to keep them coming. If  only I'd trained with a plan, maybe they could be repeatable, but I  haven't. I trained each time doing what I felt like doing. Maybe that's  the key.

Anyway, for all the OCD maniacs  like myself out there, this is, day by day, the training I've done in  the last three months, that took me here.

Notes:

- weights were done with low reps, high loads, max 4 sets (more about it here) for back (3 different exercises), shoulders (2 exercises), biceps, triceps;

-  easy Beastmaker means going through the main grips doing 6 sets of 10"  hangs (two arms) with no extreme pushing (20°, 35°, big rung, mid two  small, front two small, back two, middle monos, small rung back three,  small rung front three);

- board is my home wall, on which I boulder at max intensity for as long as my skin allows me (1,5 hour generally).

Having said this (boring) all, I go training now.

August: just weights and bouldering outdoor.

September:

3 Beast (easy)

4 system wall (max int. little vol.)

5 weights

7 Sassofortino (weak)

8 weights

10 Chiesina (weak)

11 Amiata Top (strong)

12 System (max int. little vol.)

13 Beast (easy)

15 Beast (easy)

17 board (easy)

18 Amiata Top

19 board

21 board

22 Sassofortino

23 board  

25 board

26 board

28 Sassofortino

29 board

30 board

Octobrer

3-14 boulder trip: just rock almost every day

20 Beast (easy) (30" back 2)

22 Sassofortino (weak)

23 Sassofortino (weak)

26 board (strong)

27 AM Beast (easy), PM system (underclings and lock offs)

30 Sassofortino

31 system (as above: strong)

November

1 Beast max int. (15" on 45°, 10" on slopey pockets)

2 gym super session (max int. max vol.)

5 board (strong)

6 gym mutation (5 one armers on 2nd joint flat edge).

Source: TOTOLORE

[csurfleet]

 

[comPiler]

THANK YOU ALL!!!
18 November 2011, 1:58 pm



I have many other things to write, but for the moment I would like to just thank all those desperate souls that came on this blog, lost in space, for more than 20.000 times, eager to know what's inside an insane mind.

Thank you.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

INSTANTS AND MEMORIES
28 November 2011, 1:57 pm

Today would be my sixth day on. With two double sessions on Thursday and Friday, my mind screams "Go training!" and my body refuses to. Then my body screams "Go training!" and my mind tells not to. It's like being Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde, only with also an insane Dr. Jeckyll.

The weekend before this last one I went climbing in an area I had visited only once, one year ago. It's been very nice to meet friends and finally climb again with Filo, after his spring and summer spent ticking away 8b+'s on a string. Living the dream.

While driving home, a memory from a recent past surfaced again from nowhere, and has been staying with me ever since.

It's a picture I have of myself, sitting on the pavement ouside a Curry shop in Sheffield, eating my chicken curry with my hands, while waiting to be picked up by Dylan at The Works. People stared at me.

During the day I had come back to Sheffield from Liverpool, after realizing a couple of dream projects there, to climb again on gritstone. I had come back with some old and new friends, and again I had ticked my project.

So, there, still chalked up, cold, a bit dizzy from the pints and with the climb in my hands and mind, with no pressure on Earth, no money, no watch, no family, no work, no woman, just me the curry and the climb, I felt truly complete.

In those few minutes, I lived the dream. A small dream for most, not made of 8b's or epic flashes. But it was my dream and now it was reality. I keep going back to this memory, or the memory keeps coming back to me. Maybe it feels alone in my brain and want some company. Why, I wonder, that little one is so powerful? Why is it more powerful than the others, other ones of harder problems, for example? I don't know. It's just the way it is. Maybe in that day I had put something special in my climbing, and my climbing in reward gave me even more than usual.

I live for those moments. I'm sure if anyone could know how happy I am in those moments, how fullfilled, no one would even dare or think about giving me a hard time about my climbing.

Moments.

Moments come and go at their pleasure.

I have many memories closely tied to insignificant moments. For example, there is a particular smell of industrial floor cleaning liquid that, each time I smell it, wherever I am, brings me immediately back to 1984, to the first summer I spent in college, studying English in London. Each morning I would wake up, and go downstairs to the canteen for breakfast, and each morning there would be this smell, of freshly cleaned linoleum floors. I was twelve and did know nothing about nothing. Less than now.

Still, I can hear my steps on the stairs with that smell even now.

And while I'm on this delicate subject, I would like to tell you about the memories of climbing with my best friends: some are long gone, some others are closer. Yet, the most addicting memory is the most recent, as I've said before.

My friend Andrea and I, together again after all these years, under my board, pulling edges as if it were the only thing to do on Earth.

Which, to me, incidentally is.



Source: TOTOLORE

[Oldmanmatt]

Spot on Lore!

[comPiler]

NOTHING SPECIAL?
24 December 2011, 9:24 am

I woke up this morning wanting to take advantage of the bad weather to finally catch up with the blogging, then I read the recent entries on Doylo's and Lu's blogs, and I realized that I had nothing worth reading, and I could somehow detract something from them by writing useless shit. Like I am doing right now.

Anyway, stupid thoughts aside, I also felt that I should at least give a decent reason for the absence.

The reason is the one mentioned above, the lack of anything notable.

In the last month, I have been doing nothing special. And that's the important thing. I have worked this past month, in transforming the extraordinary into routine.

My - once - best and rare efforts on my project now are the norm, happening many times each visit, and really something is fading in terms of pure and brutal desire. It's not challenging as it was before, and I am less excited. I am far from my physical limits in terms of power and that's important. It's still very difficult to get it done, but it's not really hard anymore. It's complicated more than hard. I have to have good, hard skin to bear the pain of the sharp holds, but if it's too hard I dryfire off. It's got to be fresh, but not cold, otherwise I get numb fingers and so on with many other variables. Oh well, that's the routine, as routinary became my repeats of the direct line under the roof. I can't remember the last time I fell off that thing. It's mindblowing to me.

Then, on the home front, I reset my Beastmaker on the door frame, and found out that it's not too bad despite my recent finger injury. Despite not being able to really pull on my right ring finger, it's fine while openhanded. I can still one arm dead hang the small pockets front two, I can still hold a front lever on the small monos and also on the small pockets mid two. Medal. Yawn.

I went back to Varazze, home of the world's hardest problem. I found out that in Varazze it's very important to always ask a local, if present, before trying a problem, despite having it all clear in the guide. The pattern on many problems is this: Christian Core cleaned and climbed a problem, giving it a grade which was probably lower than the real one, and that's the one you have in the guide; then the problem loses three or four holds and a few footholds; Christian Core reclimbs the problem, declaring the grade not changed; then the problem remains unrepeated.

So, before spending a day on a problem, get the lowdown.

I treated myself with this beauty:

And this is all.

Extraordinay, isn't it?



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

SOMETHING VERY SPECIAL!
28 December 2011, 3:35 pm

Yesterday was a special day, made of friends that are more like brothers, with me even if far away; a day made of perfection. Today was a normal day again, but nothing will ever be the same, I won't ever be the same: once we've been special, although for a brief moment, we won't turn normal ever again. Once we've loved, in a special way; once we've been loved, in a special way; or in this case once we've climbed, in a special way, we are changed forever. It may sound stupid to give such an importance to a climb, but it's not about the climb, it's about what you do to get that climb; it's about what you go through; it's about what you inflict to yourself and to your close ones; but most of all it's about understanding our deepest recesses; it's about discovering the most horrendous and the most beautiful aspects of ourselves.

Footage from today:



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!
31 December 2011, 5:38 pm



In the pics, the beasts during a pause. Yes, it was gorgeous.

Today I went there again, and I felt great. Everything was special again, myself included: I have never been so close.

I am happy because I understood why I keep going there: because each time I go there, I have another opportunity to improve and most of all, like today, I have another opportunity to feel happier.

I am happy. I am happy because I believe in myself, and because I want to be pure. As pure as my little dog Phoebe, who knew shit about what was going on around her - me, climbing at my best, like never before -, but who stayed close and calm, never barking, never crying, always ready to give me a lick on my face. I want to be as pure as a shark, or as a crocodile: the two creatures that changed the least during evolution. They are timeless animals: they do what they do since their appearence on Earth, and they do it because it's the only thing they know.

I wonder why I felt so good today.

I was alone, I was full of love.

I had all the sun in me, all the trees, all the air. I was in peace, I was even with the whole planet, nothing more to give, nothing more to have. The act of being there, completely there, was enough: whatever I gave, I had it back in some other form. I wonder what would I be writing, had I had a bad climbing day, but it doesn't matter. As long as I'm happy now, I don't care.  

I am ready.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

6 A.M.
8 January 2012, 5:00 pm



In the pics, the new sequence. Powerful but steady.

In the pics, the final move stuck with the old sequence, on one of my best goes. Ouch!

Tomorrow is Monday, and my alarm will go off at 6.

My holidays are over and they've been great: I climbed nearly every day (nearly every day on the same problem, I must add) and I am happy.

Yesterday I finally decided to change the final sequence: I am bored of smashing my fingers over the hold, under the hold, to the right of the hold, or getting flappers due to its sharp and painful lip. This new sequence adds one move, and it's more physical than the old one, but it's also more secure.

The real problem, though, is that I am not enjoying this anymore. I am happy with every good go, but as I've said I feel it's over, and every go that doesn't see me to the last hold is perceived as a failure and a step back from my best efforts. Some days I didn't want to be there really, and only the company of friends or the simple presence of my dog gave me the necessary happiness to give my best.

I found out it's about happiness.

So, today I went there to finish the business with the new sequence. Well, I couldn't even do the moves in isolation. OK, it was very hot (spring is here definitely, mount Amiata has not seen a snowflake), humid and still, and I was on my fourth day on, but it was too perfect not to give it a try: a siege of months, progressing from not doing the moves, to doing bits of the whole problem, to getting close, to losing my mental sanity, to recovering it, to keeping going there during the summer, to finally finding myself with the final hold in my hand and letting go, to finding a new sequence and, in my mind, to finally doing it on my last day before going back to work and real life.

Wow, that would have been perfect.

It wasn't to be. I gave 110%, trying to find every possible faggotry to climb it, from liquid chalk, to putting my clothes on the holds to cool them down, to sheltering the sun with a pad (obviously falling exactly on the move that at that point was uprotected, a move I haven't fallen off from in months...), but simply I could not do it. As I said, I didn't even do the single moves.

Could I give more? Fuck no. Not today, not in the last two weeks.

I will go back to work and for sure I'll be thinking about the problem. I'll be asking myself if this new sequence is cheating. I'll be asking myself if it's simply the time to let it go. The fact is that I want to be happy while trying it, and this sequence makes me happy.

Now it's time to focus on work and training, hopefully I won't have a tight schedule right from the start, so the plan is to rest tomorrow, have a session on Tuesday morning, rest Wednesday then deliver on Thursday if I am free from school.

I am not exactly sure I became weak(er) while concentrating only on this project. Maybe I haven't broadened my skills, but for sure I perfected what I can do. Proof is that the other day, at the end of the session, I managed a new 7c that Michele had just opened (and hiked as a warm down five times in a row to get footage...); what once would have been a seasonal success, is now an end of session tick. Cool.

Right now, just before going to bed, and with work ahead again, I really am proud of myself. Years ago, when I had the other jobs, in the bank, or at the Public Notary firm, Suday evenings were a nightmare. As soon as I packed the car, with crashpads or my longboard, all the happiness of the day was gone, because in front of me I only had a job that I hated, and that gave me nothing except money: no joy, no self esteem, no commitment, nothing but money, dirty, soulless money. My jobs stole not only my happiness, but also my time, because they cancelled the good moments I'd had. I desired something else, and I never stopped searching the balance. I did not quit. I upset and disappointed many people, but finally I found what I like and what makes me happy. I don't need money, I need people. I need humans. I need good relationships, my best friends close to me. I need to see smiles when I'm at work, and I need to be thanked.

I won back an entire part of my life: I have my Sunday evenings again. And most of all I have my entire self back. The good and the evil self, but I have it all and I am, for once, proud of what I do.

Keep the fucking faith, love and destroy.



Source: TOTOLORE

[andy popp]

This blog just gets better and better.

[csurfleet]

Keep the fucking faith

Awesome stuff 

[Nibile]

thanks guys, really. I really appreciate.

[Red]

6 A.M.
8 January 2012, 5:00 pm

 I don't need money, I need people. I need humans. I need good relationships, my best friends close to me. I need to see smiles when I'm at work, and I need to be thanked.

Keep the fucking faith, love and destroy.



Source: TOTOLORE

true dat 

[Jaspersharpe]

So true. If every Sunday evening fills you with dread for the the week ahead then you really should be looking for another job.

Great stuff as per Lore.