My body is a spring that extends and tightens back, to keep me on the hold. I feel my spine flexing and getting straight again, and the pressure on the foot. For one moment I think about this. Then I move, I hold the swing, and it's a big swing. For one moment I think about this too. Then I feel the greasy edge, and just go on. I grunt as I get the top and it's done.
I had written "I'll be the closest when I do it". Now I'm the closest, and immediately the most far away. It's done, it's gone, it's in the past. It's far, far away. My thoughts go to the ones I love, and then to the hard line under the roof, the truest, purest one. This moment is eternal yet already no more existant. It's eternal in me, and it's already gone forever.
I lack words now.
4 comments:
You pissed it didn't you? Perhaps scared yourself almost??
I knew you could do it!!! bravissimo!!! cazzo now you are trurly my hero. I'm trying to remember a harder line in Tuscany, but I can't think of one. Looks like you'll have to spend some time in the van traveling to areas with harder problems. And tell Luca to fuck off, tell him routes don't even challenge you anymore.
come on, i haven't sent the hard line, i didn't use just the holds under the roof, i also used the seam on the right. it's very hard anyway. it's a history of years coming to a sudden change.
i'm glad you read this, my friends.
i have to say it's been very hard, because i fell on the last move in my second attempt, and then couldn't do it again...
Don't detract from what you've done Lore, it's amazing and a new era for you. Awesome.
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