[comPiler]

STILL STICKING AT IT
17 July 2012, 12:20 pm

In the last two weeks I've done a good amount of training, mostly in terms of quality, rather than volume. I've gained a lot of psyche - the most precious thing - from testing myself. Despite not being satisfied with some of the results, especially the one armed 90° lock off, I think I am at a good point. These testing sessions have been very short and very very intense, but they surely spiced me up. With a small drop in the temperatures, finally below 35° for the first time in weeks, I managed to sack the system training and do some bouldering, which to my surprise felt quite good. Despite not doing anything hard, I found myself with good core and good feet: something that had been a real negative shocker in the last sessions of a few weeks ago. For sure filing down the edges of the footholds changed my board radically. As you know, following Unclesomebody's theory, that he revealed to me in Font a few years back, that "You cannot slip off 1 cm footholds", the only footholds available on my board are 1 cm; their surface is flat, square to the board, that is 53° overhanging, so they are quite nasty. Some time ago, I had a great session, I was bolted to the board, and my core felt amazing, as much as my feet. In awe for my progress and while dreaming about my first 8c+ boulder problem, I checked my shoes. The holds edges had dug into the rubber, creating a sort of hook in the sole, that obviously made them - and me - capable of sticking to the footholds as magic. It's not fair!!! I yelled, and proceeded to file down the gap in the sole to make them flat again. Then everything felt as hard as usual. I kept filing down the shoes at regular intervals, because the hook kept reappearing, when finally I decided to stop filing the rubber and file down the edges instead, making them a bit rounded... On my first session, I could not repeat even the first two problems that I climbed on the very fisrt day of my board. Shock horror. It's all good, I thought, but when success on anything kept eluding me, I thought I'd been too keen, and had transformed my board in a useless thing. I want it to be hard, but if you can't do a single move, it's not training anymore. Anyway, now I am a bit more confident, after having three pairs of shoes resoled. With good edges the fooholds are hard but enough to be used. So these last sessions brought some psyche back, and a renewed obsession for undercling moves, as the video below clearly shows:

Then, yesterday. Yesterday I had a great session at the gym. While trying to take a power nap after getting back home from school, I starded thinking about the training for the day. I didn't feel like doing the tests, and climbing didn't appeal much also, with thin skin. As soon as the thought of deadlifting appeared, I jumped out of bed, took my supplements, packed and left. I got there super early and had the gym all for myself. I started my warm up, and then the lifting warm up. I had also brought my i-Pad to tape myself for the correct technique. While I started pushing things a bit more, suddenly the gym got packed. I mean, packed. People had to alternate at the machines. A guy started talking with me about lifting, asking me a lot of questions, and my replies "I don't know, it's only my third time" did not help him, but he was friendly so no problem. The problem was that he stood there, watching every single lift that I did. When I went for the last two sets, I started feeling very uncomfortable. Each time every single person in there, would stop and watch me, while I was in front of the bar, trying to get some concentration. It was really hard, because it made everything harder, and I didn't need it. On top of that, my sick ego wanted to pull out a strong show, and my mind felt that this was a potentially dangerous situation. The best thing of this all, is that I did it: I managed to block them out of my mind. I stopped thinking about what they'd think, I did my thing. I relaxed, I dried the bar and my hands, and I stepped to the bar. Feet under. Then I closed my eyes and did the pull in my mind, once, twice, feeling the grip on the bar, feeling the effort on my abs, back, arms. Then I checked my position in the left mirror, then head up and pulled. I was alone. There was only me in the gym. I still feel as if the music stopped and everyone left. The next thing that I remember is locking my gluteus muscles and seeing myself in the mirror in front of me with the bar up. I immediately dropped it and everything zoomed in again: the noise, the chatting, the glances, the music, my heartbeat, the pain in my muscles and the usual thought: "I am the greatest". I did it. I mean not the pull, that felt fantastic of course, but I got a full, complete concentration in a chaotic setting. This is truly a great gain that I am proud of.  



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

PEDAL TO THE METAL
2 August 2012, 5:26 pm



In the pics, one tiny little girl. But in the eyes?

Finally I see the end of this week approaching. It will bring another change in the working schedule, for better this time, with less hours, and this should make me more able to keep training in the current temps: 38° today at 17,30.

I came out of the last week pretty thrashed, the presence of Mr. Mills himself (and his beautiful girlfriend) on these shores made it very easy to train and keep the fucking faith, so I overdid it a little bit, with a final full day on the rocks that really ate me alive.

I decided to take one week off.

Bad idea.

I found out that as soon as I lift the accelerator, I sink. I work well when I am at full speed, traveling towards unknown destination but traveling. I have spent this week agonizing in my bed from 18 to dinner time, then a shower and goodnight. I know this is also due to the boiling temps with their consequences, but still I hate it. I hate to feel sleepy and weak.

Today I wanted to do something, but I got sucked in by the Olympics.

Of course, few things can get my attention as an Olympic gymnastic final, so I watched the girls.

Everything seems unreal. The kind of stuff they do defies every logic. I don't think that in any other sport lies such a great amount of technique and courage as in gymnastic.

They also make everything seem pretty easy, so that if they make a little mistake, the odd small step forward after coming out of a 3 meters high jump with twists and turns, you find yourself screaming with horror and disbelief "What a punter!".

But also, sometimes you just see them perform perfectly, and with a smile also: that's so easy. Plus, they all weigh 100 grams, no wonder they fly.

Well, during the next final, I really advise you to watch the dead moments of the comps with as much attention as the specific excercises. You'll see amazing things. You'll see these 16 year old girls, with their eyes lost in space, in search of a concentration that none of us will ever be capable of. If you look closely into those eyes, you'll see a life whose letters are spelt "T.R.A.I.N.". You'll see eyes of grown women, of professional athletes hidden behind those tiny bodies, and you'll tremble at the thought of the pressure they have to bear at their age. It would make any of us shit himself.

Those eyes tell everything. They are of course the eyes of young small girls that are at the very top of the world, and they know it. They know how hard they have worked for it: no cheap gains here. Talk about 0% inspiration and 100% perspiration.

Look at them while they rehearse before a routine, and try to get into their world: you won't, because that's a world made of perfection, in which the most impossible is thought and conceived, to be transferred into the real world a few minutes later; a world without gravity I believe, and of perfect movement in space.

I really get a fantastic feeling from these little girls, but then again if I think about those eyes, I cannot help but tremble at the thought that only one of them will be first. For all the other ones, there's nothing. Because if you play at those heights, you don't play to be second, you play to be first. AUT CAESAR AUT NIHIL, as my ancestors used to say. Second is last for them.

So, it's with those eyes still in my mind that I want to start again trying to take the best out of myself.

Finally, one last thought for the overall female gymnastic gold medalist Douglas's parents, that didn't want their daughter to keep doing sports, and that didn't want to let her go and live and train in another state: fuck off you bastards. Where's your god now? Watch that gold medal and weep in shame, assholes.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

63 KG
4 August 2012, 9:01 pm

In the picture, approaching the full tank.

Today I definitely wanted to do something, being Saturday, after the hard week of rest, African temps and depression. So I started it out with a nice lie in. Then I went out to buy some books, then I practiced with my bass for a couple of hours. What else can you do to spend time before training?

Sadly with the Summer in full bloom, my options are not as I'd like: for a starter the gym is closed and I can't lift; then at the board it's always more than 30° and it's really hard to train well, everything feels nails without being nails. Plus, skin is an issue. I decided to do some weights at home, something that I don't particularly love, because I am a lazy bastard and I like to have all the barbells ready for my likes, instead of spending time mounting and dismounting them to adjust the weight for each excercise and set. Moreover, I can't do all the routines that I can do at the gym and this sucks.

A few weeks ago I had a great moment of psyche doing a few tests. I really enjoyed it and soon they became, as usual, a goal in themselves, with my mind completely centered on improving the hangs by a few seconds, each time.

One test I really cared about, but sadly I couldn't perform it properly. It's the maximum added weight you can hang for five seconds on a 1,5 cm flat edge. I had tried it at a friend's place, but the fingerboard is crappy, and mounted over a step, and I didn't feel like pushing it, so I got to 40 kg and called it quits. Today, with an entire evening at my will, I took the car, loaded the trunk with iron plates and drove around the building to the garage. There I started my journey into madness again.

It's been great. By putting together all the weights I have at home and the weightvest I managed to really get to the limit.

I did all ten seconds hangs up to 55 kg, then I did eight seconds with 60, then a final 5 seconds with 63, that incidentally are all the weights I have.

To be honest, this did not surprise me, because the day I tried the test, after not completing it, I was feeling very angry and I tried a few one arm hangs on the same edge, and I managed them; so it was quite clear to me that I could do much more than 40 kg, but still I had to do it to be satisfied.

I still don't know - and if someone does, please help me - how one arm hangs and two arm hangs relate. In my case things are quite coherent, I weigh 65 kg and managed to add 63. My right arm is a lot stronger than my left one, though, and this clearly shows in the one arm hangs.

It's been a good test.

It's very time consuming, though: I went on by 5 kg increases, so I did quite a few hangs with full rests in between; it's also quite hard on your body. I ended up attaching 50 kg at my waist with an old harness, and 13 more in a back pack. Just walking 20 cm under the hold was painful.

So, I don't think I'll be doing it again anytime soon, but it's been a good test.

I haven't trained with heavy added weights in years. I used to, when I only had a fingerboard and a campusboard - oh, another question: why did I wait ten years before mounting a board in my house? - and I did it for quite a long time. I managed to add 47,5 kg for one pull up on a 0,9 cm edge.

Now I'm stronger, and I haven't attached more than 10 kg to my body when fingerboarding, in the last six or seven years, maybe more. The Beastmaker paid out, for sure. Isolating fingers clearly worked and this is all that matters.

Just after a few hours, I feel my body pretty tired. All the weight it took surely takes its toll.

In a moment of great personal turmoil, this stupid test - to which I already knew the answer, also! - provided a small oasis of calm and self confidence.

It's a window on the future and also the confirmation of good work in the past.

Now all I have to do is keeping the fucking faith.

Finally, I want to thank Tom and Hayley for their visit: another oasis in the storm; and Eva Lopez for giving me the inspiration and the answers.

And here. We. Go.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

RISE OF THE MACHINES
10 August 2012, 2:08 pm

As you surely have experienced, sometimes to be able to post a comment on a website, you encounter the window that's in the above picture, asking you to "prove that you're not a robot".

This request really makes me cringe each time, because in almost every moment of my life, but in my climbing especially, all I care about and all I want to prove is the exact opposite.

I want to prove that I AM A ROBOT.

What does a robot do? It acts.

What do I do? I act.

If I paused and reflected over the reality of my climbing, it'd be it: I would call it quits on the very second. And I don't want to do it, because I like climbing.

If, before a session, I try and figure out when I will finally be able to go and try my projects, I'll never do that session, because it will seem pointless in current circumstances.

I am a robot. I stick at it because it's the only right thing to do, regardless. If I'll ever get a chance to get some climbing, I want to get there at my best. When will it be? I don't know, so I take it could even be tomorrow, you never know.

Some say "don't train if you're tired"; "don't train if you're injured"; "don't train if you're stressed". Fuck me, I am 40 years old, I have two jobs and a girlfriend that gives me hell: I am always tired, stressed and angry.

The key to me is to simply NEVER NEVER QUIT. If I skip a session because I'm very tired, I feel even worse, and I curse myself even more, not only for being so fucking shit, but also for being a soft, lazy bastard with a weak mind.

I want to be a robot and I train BECAUSE I AM TIRED. There's always something you can do: it won't put your body up to full power, but for sure it will put your mind up to its full power.

If our mind doesn't pull us out from the couch, what will? Nothing. The mind comes first and last, and in the middle there's the body. And it must obey.

So the robot mind tells me "go train, because no matter what, someday you'll get your chance and then you'd better do your best".

What else could one do? I rectify: what else could an obsessive, fanatic, ego-driven one do? Nothing else. What will push me towards my much deserved prize if not my will? And in climbing, could I really get a prize that I don't deserve? No. Could I climb a project without deserving it? No. So, to deserve something is the first step to get it, to me. This doesn't mean that you'll end up getting it, but for sure you won't get it if you don't deserve it. Why? Because no one else can give that prize to you.

It's a win-win situation.

You can either think "it's not worth the effort", or "it's worth the effort". The key to me is to not even think. To just go there and do my thing, whatever it could be: fingerboarding, bouldering, lifting, what the fucking ever. Because by doing so, I am 100% sure that I am moving towards what I want, and this is the only thing that matters.

In my opinion, there's only one way to get something done without deserving it, and that is UNDERPERFORMING.

I have already blogged about Blaise Pascal's "vous abetira": this is exactly the same thing, only with other words.

I don't know if this is wrong or right, I only know that it must be right because it feels wrong. It must be right, because it feels hard.

I mean, it's just fucking bouldering, goddammit. We're not saving lives. But why can't we treat climbing as if it were saving lives? Why can't someone put the same dedication in saving lives and in climbing? I think he can. There is never a reason, to me, to not give 100%, whatever the task. We can chose not to, but we must know that the outcome wno't be 100%. It could resemble 100%, but it won't be. It could feel 100%, but it won't be.

There's a kind of success that happens in the real world, and a kind that happens inside us. The first one can be related to others, but only the second one completely belongs to ourselves. Only we know whether the public success is deserved or not: if we think that it's not, it's not a success anymore. It's something that happened to us, and that could be given to, or taken away from, us. We are out of the game in this case.

But nothing of what we have, because we deserved it, can be taken away from us: because no one can touch it. No one can even see it.

Maybe I write all this shit because I basically live in a one-man climbing scene. But really, even if someone came at my house everyday and watched me train, could he really understand how I feel? How tired I am? Or how happy and super fit? No.

The only thing to do, to me, is to make it all happen inside me.

I could go on forever on this matter, and I don't want to.

Thanks for getting to the end, but finally, tell me: are you a robot? Prove that you're a robot.



Source: TOTOLORE

[shark]

Great posts 

[erm, sam]

I trained tonight, and now I'm drinking beer and eating chocolate digestives. Does that count?

[comPiler]

WELCOME TO BITTERLAND
17 August 2012, 1:11 pm



I wrote down this entry a few weeks ago, after reading a particular blog that I won't name. I wrote it in a rush of anger, disgust and envy. When finally the writing was on the wall, I decided not to publish it. Today, though, I read something that made me change my mind. So here it goes, as bitter as I made it.  

A few days ago, when the alarm went off, I immediately felt something different: a sudden drop in the temps had made me look for a light blanket during the night and outside the wind was blowing loudly.My first thought was to remain in bed for another 40 minutes, then to have a perfect breakfast and pack my stuff to go and crush some rock for the first time in weeks.Unfortunately, being a Monday, I got on my bike and proceeded towards a normal day of work.Like millions of people.Unlike millions of people, there are some that can transform my morning thought into reality. Some of these happen to have a blog, and sometimes I read some of these blogs.A few of them are truly inspiring, yet barely known to the multitude of climbers that proudly adorn 8a.nu: shame for those who don't know them.Others are simple chronicles, and others are just numbers. And that's fine.But when I read about a pro complaining about the lack of decent sponsorships; or about having to leave soon for a foreign destination and having no time for current home projects; or about three consecutive days of rain on a two months roadtrip; or about grades inflation; or about the difficulties of having a normal life because of constant travels; or about having bad skin; in all these occasions I'd like to get an axe and destroy everything around me.In a moment in which there is hardly any job opportunity, people struggle to buy food, or to pay university taxes, the lack of sponsorships or good climbing conditions seems marginal.Cry me a fucking river.

How can I be so presumptuous to say so? Because they are the crushers, not I. They are the role models, not I. They have to inspire me, that's what their talent is for. I am a bitter bastard, I have and I have never had talent, so I want them to show me that they deserve their talent, and that they put it to the best use: this for me, means being able to share something that's not just numbers or chronicles. I could name climbers that leave me in awe and full of admiration when I hear them speaking or when I read them, but I won't. This is nothing personal, and I have nothing against anyone. What I know, is that from their blogs, and videos, some of the strong ones seem to have the same human depht of an aluminium foil.

In the modern era, really you can speak your mind without saying a word: make a nice video; take nice pics. An image can move a mountain. When I read something that's been written only to fill the page, that's boring or whiny, from a pro, I become a raging beast.

The bottom line is: for fuck's sake, if you have to, run your blog with the same dedication that you put into your climbing and please, start every entry with this line: "Oh my - insert preferred divinity here - thank you so much for the talent you gave me, and for letting me live a dream life made of rock and crushing big numbers".

Finally, and I'm curious about this, I don't know if I'll ever publish this entry. For sure was good to try and search for these words in my fucking mind.

A trip into madness.

Source: TOTOLORE

[Dr T]

 
 

[Sasquatch]

I'm glad you posted it, and put so many of the same thoughts I have down on Paper(or pixels as the case may be).

Keep it up.  Call 'em out on their BS

[Oldmanmatt]

I hear you Lore...

[Stu Littlefair]

That post made me laugh. We've all been there...

[Nibile]

Since someone asked, I want to make it clear that my blog entry and the comment I left on Alex Barrow's blog, are completely non related.
For sure his blog isn't one of those who I'm talking about.
Sorry for the misunderstanding.

[comPiler]

LESS IS MORE, MORE IS MORE
22 August 2012, 4:53 pm

It took me almost twenty years to get it, but yes, it looks like I made it.

Being 40, I am certain that I am at the peak of both my physical and mental form.

I have never been so strong in my life: I can do more one armers, I can hang worse holds, or with more added weight, than never before. Also, my core tension is at its best.

I can concentrate so well, I can block out of my mind all that surrounds me and put all my body and mind just to climb something.

Shame I'm getting bald.

Less is more. For years and years I've tried to pack in as much training as I could in every session, both in terms of intensity AND volume. Whoever knows the simplest basics of training can tell that mine was a wrong approach. This happened because I had too much time and I could dedicate hours to training every day. While younger, and without a climbing wall, it was hundreds of pull ups on 1 cm edges or less, and tons of weights in the gym, that propelled me up to weighing 10 kilos more than now. It took a lot to ditch this for a more specific training, made of... campusboarding. When finally I moved to another town and had a wall, 4 hours daily sessions were the norm. The problem is that this kind of training pays, but not as much as it should. You sow 10 and reap 5. When I found myself with more work, more commitments and less time, the situation became tricky. I had to start compressing my sessions. And here. We. Go. I really started progressing. When I cut by half my fingerboard routines, my finger strength went through the roof. When I stopped doing 14 excercises in the gym and stuck to 6 or 7, barbells and dumbbells really started to get heavy. The same happened at the board: serious pulling for one hour and half is more than enough to push your power and deliver some serious testosterone to your family jewels. Less is more. Shorter, very specific sessions, allow you to train more often, while being fresh each time because each session can be different, being more specific. In the past, I could get to some point at which I would need four days off to recover from two sessions, and then I'd plummet. Now I train 22 or 25 days a month, sometimes with double sessions, and often I have to impose myself a rest day even though I'd like to train.

More is more. More power is more power. No matter how you get it, more power is more power. Beware, I'm talking power, not muscle. There's a big difference. Especially for bouldering, power is a must: not everyone has Paul Robinson's fingers... So we have to cope, with a bonus: put me and P-Rob on a beach, and look who gets the senoritas. This is very personal. I am sure that if I wanted, I could drop a lot of kilos by losing muscle mass, gaining a new level or RELATIVE finger strength. I don't want to, though, not only because it's not healthy, but also because I want to look at myself and at least HAVE AN IDEA OF POWER, not an idea of P.O.W. Moreover, I want to be able to give my girl a strong hug in the love. So, power. I found particularly important, as of late, to have a full body power. Not just the ability to pull down, but the ability to pull down without cutting loose, for example, or to cheat a move by squeezing the rock, and so on. This kind of training gives big gains to any other training that you do, it maximize its effects. Sadly I live in a place in which gyms close for the whole August month, so real heavy lifts are out of question, but surfing the net I found some good ideas, like the two excercises that are shown in the video below.

from lorenzo frusteri on Vimeo.

Just a few sets of those lifts and pulls, gave me a proper bashing: legs, hamstrings, gluteos, lower back, upper back, shoulders and abs. The following days all muscles ached. Only my triceps and biceps were quite fresh, but that issue was easily soveld with ten sets of pushing and curling. As usual, nihil sub sole novum, Big Malc could dead lift 200 kg and clean 100 twenty years ago... I really like this transversal approach to power training. The normal approach is far too specific for the many issues of climbing, and given that one excercise trains only itself, being able to pull vertically on a bar or fingerboard, doesn't transfer perfectly onto the rock. So, the more power we have in many different ways, the better. Moreover, having all these different possibilities broadens the training opportunities.

Less is more. For years I have followed many different training plans, some bad ones, some crazy ones and some very good ones. I am still very proud that I managed to boulder 8a by training with only a fingerboard and a campus board. In all these years I progressively learnt to understand my body and be ready to change. Now I go with my feelings, and although I am not quite able to peak in a specific moment (a roadtrip for example), my average form is at its highest, and if I push it for three weeks I know that after one or two days off I can crush (relatively to my level, obviously). Being free from plans makes for less stress, more fun and again better training.

For the moment, as I've written before, I keep training and training with no specific deadline, because it's the only thing to do.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

THE ULTIMATE GRADE CHASER
20 September 2012, 5:37 pm

I am the ultimate grade chaser, and the grade that I chase is "+1".

As I've said before, climbing problems is really important, but it's not all that matters: doing moves that I could not do before, matters. It's rare to find a problem on which you can't do any of the moves, mostly because of the lack of new rock in the surroundings of where I live. There are new projects, of course, but each one is plagued by some minor or major issue that make them unappealing or unfeasible for me, especially bad landings. On one of these boulders I already smashed an ankle two years ago and I can't see myself getting on it very soon or very easily.

Anyway, The paradise in which every performed move is a new PB, is my board. Man, that's better than Prozac and cocaine together. There are no bad landings there, and nothing is morpho. I can pull or I can't.

Which leads to the next topic.

Despite a current wave of thought, all kindness and good will, that considers it a bad thing, I live on ego.

But it's my ego. It's not my ego versus someone else's one. It's just me, because in the climbing world that I know, there's only me. So, my ego satisfies myself without the need of confrontations with others, mainly because to me other climbers do not exist. If they do, I don't care what they do. This solves a lot of problems.

On my board, there are sequences, and you are supposed to do what's written on the notebook. If it says "match", you must match. If it says "LH cross" you must cross with your left hand, and you can only use the footholds that are allowed.

The key is not getting to the top, the key is screaming on every move. And I do.

I want it to be as hard as it can be, while not being impossible.

On rock, this attitude is not possible, unless you find yourself at Raven Tor, Minus Ten or the likes (and if you do, you have all my respect and a gentle kind of livid envy, because they are places in which history was made), and of course you can't complain if a new sequence is discovered, you can't call it cheating and it's all legit. But even so, I'll never switch to a new sequence if I planned to use another that feels harder.

I really can't see the point of trying to discover a new sequence: is it just to find yourself on top? If so, the easiest way is to walk on top of the boulder from the descent. I'm sure you get what I mean.

Last May, I repeated a problem with a sequence that allowed me to start one hold lower, but this also skipped a long first move off a nasty two finger jam in a crack. I don't know whether this sequence is harder or easier - for sure it's not morpho and everyone can do it -, fact is that the original move that I couldn't do remained in my mind.

That's why, applying my philosophy, I found myself under that piece of rock last Sunday. I did the move second go, cut loose - something I generally don't like, but on that occasion it felt so good - put my right foot back on, dropped into the undercling and stepped off.

I had done the move and that is all that matters, more than the problem. Will I go back to repeat it with this move? Probably, but with another completely different attitude and mindset.

On the day I did the problem, I had also tried another sequence of which I could not do the moves in isolation. Sunday I crushed this as well, just to be sure.

So, what's harder? Dynoing from a slot or getting an undercling above your head and locking it off? To me, now, it doesn't matter anymore. It mattered before because I only had done one sequence, but now, that I have done them all, it doesn't matter anymore. Which grade did I climb on Sunday? I climbed "+1". And that's why I pulled out my flask and sipped some Jura - thanks Paul.

I think that I am quite presumptuous, I've always been. But my ego was weak, and I was constantly thinking about others: what they were climbing, how much, where, how often, and sometimes I've been green with envy, feeling bitter and defrauded of something that I felt I had the right to have. It's a bad way of feeling. It's horrible.

Now, luckily, I am blessed by an enormous ego. So big that in my mind there's no room for anyone else.

And this is great.



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

COMFORTABLE IN THE POWER
26 September 2012, 7:09 pm

 

In the pictures, the meaning of the title.  I definitely feel something happening, as of late. It's that strange  feeling that you get when you know that you're lacking something, but  you can't exactly identify what.

This often happens in the morning, when I get out and I feel the fresh  air, and I wonder how the conditions could be at the boulders.

But it's not that I simple want to go climbing, because this isn't completely true. I do, of course, but it's a bit complicated.

I don't need very much to get psyched, in fact I need very little. It  can be a gorgeous line or simply repeating an old problem with an  eliminate sequence, but in this moment I find it hard to get on the car  and drive to the rocks.

I often found myself, in the last weeks, browsing my pictures folders on  my laptop. There is a lot of rock in those pictures, but mostly there  are lots of good friends. Some of them, I consider brothers.

I remember some of those trips, some of those days, as some of the best  days of my life, not because I climbed something hard for me, but for  the feeling of fulfillment.

The feeling that tells you that you don't need anything more, or different.

I really miss the company of my good friends, both for my real life and  for my climbing life. Those friends who call you to go out for a beer  and save your evening, or those who push you under the board when you  don't feel like putting in yet another session.

In Céline's "Voyage", Molly tells to Bardamu that the lonesome traveller  is the one that gets further. I feel that this is true for me,  especially for my climbing. I am positive that, had my best friends been  around, still climbing with me, I wouldn't have gotten as strong as I'm  now.

The obsessive compulsive behaviour doesn'l like the good company of  friends; the obsession doesn't want to have fun. The obsession wants to  be fed with your obsessive behaviour.

Unfortunately, a few hours spent under wooden edges isn't all one's life.

One must be also happy, sometimes.

Maybe, lately, I lack this feeling of happiness, of "here's your prize".  For sure I climbed what I wanted to. And it's not a coincidence that I  write these thoughts right now: I can tell how good I did by how  depressed I get after doing it.

I'm not exactly depressed right now, but I'm empty, and despite a strong  desire, I can see it when I train. It's hard to put together body and  mind. One day one is there and the other one isn't, and vice versa.

There are many many changes going on around me at the moment, and I feel the urge to change something myself.

I need to feel that everything can change if I want, that there still  can be some improvisation in life. Maybe I just need a vacation.

Yesterday I found myself thinking about going climbing, and that's a  thing I normally don't do, I just pack and go. The air was warm and  humid, and I could not picture myself, in my mind, packing and driving.  So I stayed home, I crushed the strings of my bass, I put in a great  Beastmaker session, and most of all I spent a few hours sending around  CV's and job requests. I did not speak to anyone for the entire day.

I can't change my climbing if first I don't change my life. We will see.

I've been here in the past, in this situation, but with a great  difference. Now I know what I can do to be happier and more fulfilled,  and although this could seem a paradox, the key to open the box is my  job.

It's a powerful tool, because no matter what, I love it. With this tool I  can do new things, I can use it to try and build me a new story. And if  I don't succeed... Well for the present it doesn't matter.

This post could sound a bit enigmatic, it is for sure to a certain  degree, but if we remember not to judge a book by the cover, everything  can be clearer. Sometimes, what we see is just a fake. It's hard to run a  life that is 100% true, to others and mostly to ourselves. It's like  poker: you bluff and others fold.

But comes a moment for the showdown as well, because when I bluff, I bluff to myself. And I'm tired of it.So the aim now is: be comfortable in the power; keep the head up in front of chaos and don't fear changes. I feel different.  

Source: TOTOLORE

[andy_e]

in this moment I find it hard to get on the car  and drive to the rocks.

You should try getting in it then, works much better.

[Nibile]

  
Will try!!!

[Sasquatch]

I can tell how good I did by how  depressed I get after doing it.

I'm not exactly depressed right now, but I'm empty,

This..... 

I know this feeling too well. 

I've found lately that I only truly feel th joy of success if I can mange to push myself to a new level without sacrificing the balance of family, friends, work, and climbing.  If any one of these swings out of balance the success is bitter, and too often to push through to a new level you have to let the pendulum swing too far.

BTW - I also find it difficult to get to the rocks "on " the car, "In" is much much easier.... 

[comPiler]

CIAO, GRAZIE
30 September 2012, 7:56 pm



In the pictures, just another project.

Typing with my hands still white from chalk and a big smile on my face, today I found an answer. In the last days I was asking myself whether I am still a climber or just a trainer who loves climbing. I struggled a lot to find the answer. I came to the conclusion that I am a trainer, because, despite climbing almost every day, pulling plastic is not my idea of climbing. My idea of climbing is climbing on rock, but also some kind of rock climbing doesn't fit in that idea. I like to think about climbing as new areas, new problems, and not as having to drive hours to test myself on yet another variation or on a classic problem with a weightbelt on. So yes, I came to the conclusion that I am a trainer, because I approach my training as a medium, but the medium has, over time, replaced the aim, almost becoming the aim.  Not that this answer changed anything in my mind, it's been more a realization than a surprise. It doesn't make me sad or pissed, it's just the way things are at the moment. If you haven't watched the film or read the book, I highly recommend you to watch or read "The Tartar Steppe": it talks about me. It talks about preparing oneself for something that never comes. I prepare myself for amazing climbs in amazing locations on amazing travels that for some reasons, never come. Or very rarely come, and never as I want. Time. Time is the most precious thing that I have. Everything takes time, and most of all, perfection takes time. I don't have this time at the moment, therefore I don't have perfection. But I still fight for perfection. Anyway, today was special. All alone at home, I had the privilege of taking my time. I slept a lot, I played my bass, I ate properly and while it was starting to lash down with rain, I begun my warm up. Still a bit stiff from the lifting and pressing session of last Friday (more on that soon), I gently pushed it until I felt quite good. I decided to try a long standing project, and on my second go I had my best redpoint go so far, doing the frist four moves and getting to the... crux. The following moves are still beyond my redpoint level, they still feel hard in isolation, but today I did the first four moves in a row for the second time since Spring. Sadly, just after a couple more tries, my skin started to give in, so I changed problem. Again, I had an excellent go, my core was feeling strong and I was confident about success, but unfortunately my skin was sweaty and my forearms pumped, so I fell. On this project, I've done better only once, doing the last crux move and falling on the following one, that is much easier but still not a path. I was feeling tired, so I took some time to rest, thinking about how I could go on a little bit more. Of course I had to switch to problems with positive holds on which skin wouldn't make a lot of difference, and I decided to try one that I set some weeks ago, with a crux move that I had only done once, in isolation. It felt it like an inspiration. From the first move I felt strong, and with each following move I could notice my body moving differently, shifting its weight in another way than on previous attempts, and I found myself at the start of the crux: I got the undercling that I always feared and set my feet, then went to the small pinch; I was still there, on. Going on without thinking I stuck the crux move for the first time from the start, and despite not hitting it perfectly, I dug deep, setting my feet for the last tricky move. At that point, abruptly, reality set back again and I realized that I was there, pulling hard, with my right hand slightly slipping off, and for a brief moment I tought that I had nothing left. That moment lasted just an instant and it disappeared with its thought: I got the next hold, then the following one, then the following one, then the top. I jumped down and swore. No wet eyes this time. Noone at home but me. Just me and my success. All for myself. This problem felt very special. I really pulled it out from nowhere. And I felt strong on it, too. When I set it, I gave it a particular name: "Ciao, grazie". After trying it for a while and realizing it was hard, I started feeling a bit sad, because I did not want such a problem to remain a project. Climbing it was to be some sort of tribute to the person which it is dedicated to. So today I completed it, and completed the plan, and the tribute. It's not newsworthy, it's not a new 8c in Font. But it's my problem, my project and my personal tribute. With this, I also reminded myself that I love this shit. The happiness is there, and maybe it's a hard and rare find because I like to push myself to my absolute limits. Setting easier problems wouldn't warrant the same emotions. There's so much more than this, that I just can't fully express at the moment. With this renewed feeling of happiness, success and fullfillment, I also forgot about the initial question. I don't care what I am. I don't care whether I am a trainer or a climber. And I understand why it's been so difficult to find an answer to that question: because it's a stupid question, and stupid questions never have right answers. Thanks for sharing.  



Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

SPEAKING THE TRUTH
11 October 2012, 3:18 pm

I  learn a lot from other blogs. I learn how others live their lives, how  hard they climb, how close they are to the mental asylum. I also learn what I don't like to read, and I take this as a reminder of what I don't want to write. I've  been reading a blog recently, in which the Author speaks about very  personal issues, without saying anything clear about them. So basically I  read a sequence of words, that I logically understand, but whose true  meaning escapes me. This is perfectly fine, this kind of self dialogue  put into words, no one has to say anything more than what they want to  say. And I have no right of asking to know more. Despite  this, reading about things that I could not understand made me feel  uncomfortable and also a bit pissed, because I could not empathize at  all with the Author, because he (or she) was basically cutting me off  from the beginning. If I don't empathize, I can't learn: everything  works as in the ancient Greek tragedies, as I've said before.  I think I made this mistake in a few entries in the past, referring to facts that I did not clarify. So, this post is to make things clear for everyone. Even for myself.

Two  of the most important moments of my life are still very close: the  first one, in chronological order, is the death of my uncle Massimo, my  father's brother, the 18th of May, after a five years long fight against  cancer. He taught me a lot, humanly, in a very special and personal  way, and he showed an incredible strength during his illness, always  smiling, never scared. He was a tiny little man, fifty kilos of nerves,  but as it showed he was made of steel. I miss him a lot. The  second one is the end of my relationship with Valentina, after two very  hard  years. Things change, people change, and sometimes life gets in  the way of feelings. Some other times feelings just end, that's natural  if you starve them. She got a new house and moved out in the weekend. Things are relaxed between the two of us, so hopefully it'll be for the best. I  have been in two solid relationships, living together, for the last 13  years. A long time. Yesterday night I was at home alone, it had happened  before, but now there were empty drawers, missing pictures, no dog. And  I thought "Wow! What's this?" Of  course I lived these moments in my climbing as well. I had been  climbing the day my uncle went to the hospital; I had been climbing one  week later, the day he died; and I went climbing on the same day the  following week. This is what lies behind my post "Thursdays". Three Thursdays, three days, one life. I  lived my relationship's crisis through climbing as well. "Anger is an  energy" sang John Lydon with PiL. It's true. For quite a long time I  fueled my obsession with the frustration of a collapsing relationship,  with anger, with regrets. It worked, for the climbing. Now I am left  without this fuel, I have no dirty energy to convert into somethig green  and I wonder if I'll make it. I wonder if I'll find some kind of pure  pleasure to propel me. Not something that I want to get rid of, that I  need to purify. Something that's already pure. You can read this story behind many posts, but especially this and this. So, here you are. This is it. This is me. I hope this post will help you understand more things that I've written in the past, for sure it helped me.

Source: TOTOLORE

[comPiler]

GLOBETROTTERS
27 October 2012, 12:51 pm

For once I won't say - almost - anything, and I will let someone else speak for me. I only want to thank Caroline and James for their fantastic surprise, for their usual joy, kindness and crushing. Bon voyage! What follows is taken from Caroline's website.Thanks again.   Amiata, du bloc pour changer, sud de Sienna Pour une fois, je laisse la parole a James, je me   contenterai de traduire... "La dernière fois que j'ai vu   Lorenzo,c' était en 2010, à un petit site de bloc au centre des Dolomites. Il   avait conduit 5 heures depuis Sienne pour essayer 1 de ses projets, qui au   cours du week-end continuerait a malheureusement lui échapper, mais au moins   il avait pu essayer ... Deux week-ends auparavant, il avait fait le même trajet,   pour s'ouvrir un pouce sur son premier essai, et rentrer à la maison! Cela   devrait vous donner une petite idée de la motivation dont Lorenzo est   capable! Lorenzo a l'echauff, comme dab… Nous avons rejoint Lorenzo près   du sommet du Monte Amiata, au moment où il revenait à sa voiture après une   longue journée dans les rochers.Toujours motivé, il a abandonné ses pads et   nous a traînées en haut de la colline pour une tournée de tous les blocs, et   bien qu'il en soit a son 3e jour de suite, Lorenzo a insisté à pour se   joindre à nous le lendemain matin pour une visite personnelle d'un autre   domaine. Castel del Piano Monte Amiata est un endroit incroyablement paisible. Les blocs sont parsemés   dans une forêt de châtaigniers ombragée, et les seules personnes de passage   habitants occasionnels à la recherche de champignons et de noix. En raison de   son altitude, les conditions sont bien meilleuresque dans la ville voisine de   Castel del Piano - quelque chose que vous apprécierez au moment de mettre de   grandes claques sur les plats a gros grains. la foret Cette arête de compression est   un des plus beaux blocs que j'ai jamais fait! Tout au long de la journée Lorenzo nous a montré ses problèmes classiques,   dont l'un tient son rang parmi les meilleurs rochers que j'ai jamais fait.   Nous avons également pu essayer quelques-uns de ses projets et même réussir à   ajouter la première ascension d'un Fb7B+ : «Un Italien Très anglais». A Very   English Italian! Fb7B+ Un autre problème classe,   quelque part autour de Fb8A Notre peau partait en lambeaux en fin de journee, et même Lorenzo (4e jour   maintenant) a admis que, demain devrait probablement être un jour de repos.   Toutefois, avant de dire au revoir et de commencer son trajet de retour à   Sienne, Lorenzo a insisté pour nous montrer une autre surprise locale ... Pizza Cèpes et truffes! Oui,   c'est aussi bon que ça sonne! Alors ... Pour résumer Monte Amiata! Un grand espace, avec des blocs cool   d'essayer, répartis entre plusieurs zones plus petites, dispersées autour de   la montagne. Très calme, très calme, et très beau. La cuisine est   fantastique, et plutôt pas cher! Caroline dans un superbe Fb7B+

Source: TOTOLORE

[Fultonius]

That's was beyond my French skills...must practise more!

Sounds like a nice area though...

[Nibile]

I'll translate it.
As for the area, come here and check by yourself!!!
 

[Nibile]

Amiata, some bouldering for a change, South of Siena.
For once, I let James speak (omissis).

The last time I saw Lorenzo was in 2010, in a small bouldering are in the middle of the Dolomites. He had driven for five hours from Siena to try one of his projects, that, during the weekend, unfortunately kept eluding him, but at least he could try it... Two weeks before he had done exactly the same trip, only to slice a finger on his first go, and drive back home! This should give you a little idea about the motivation Lorenzo is capable of.
We met Lorenzo near the top of Mount Amiata, while he was getting back to his car after a long day at the boulders. Always psyched, he dropped all his pads and he took back up to the top to give us the tour of the problems, and despite that having been his third day on, he insisted he would join us the following day for a visit to another sector.
Mount Amiata is an incredibly peaceful place. The boulders are spread in a shady chestnut trees forest, and the only passers by are locals searching for mushrooms or chestnuts. Given the altitude, conditions are far better than in the close town of Castel del Piano: this is something you'll appreciate at the moment of slapping big, grainy slopers.
During the day, Lorenzo showed us his (and other climbers') classic problems, one of which ranks as one of the best boulders that I've ever climbed (too kind James!!!). We also managed to try a few of his projects, and we opened a new 7b+: "A Very English Italian".
At the end of the day, our skin was shredded, and even Lorenzo (fourth day on) had to admit that the following day would probably be a rest day.
Anyway, before saying goodbye and driving back to Siena, Lorenzo insisted to show us another local surprise... Pizza with boletus and truffle! Yes, it's as good as it sounds!
So... to sum it up. Mount Amiata, a big area with many cool boulders to try, located in many smaller areas all around the mountain. Very, very peaceful, and very beautiful. The food is fantastic, and quite cheap! 

I hope this helps. Not a very good translation, but the best I could do with little time.
James has been really kind with his words, as usual. He obviously crushed the fuck out of everything I threw at him, and Caroline did quite the same.
Beasts. Great day.

[Monolith]

I wish I'd have been there team. I feel there is much left to do for the future Lore...