I think I found out where and when I lost the happiness I had before. I lost it when I tried to be like Michele Caminati, like Keith, like the pullers that pull the big numbers. I can't be like them, because I am different, I am myself. I have to emulate their attitude, to try and climb as hard as they do, but not to be like them.
Yesterday's session at the gym was just great. Full of small happinesses. I started slow, my tips burning from Amiata rock on every plastic hold. The new problems are both undergraded and ugly. Luckily I kept moving, and soon something clicked, and at 10 30 pm I was still enthusiast and pulling, or at least trying to, given that I was thrashed.
All this psyche came from my friend Luca training with me. The two best sessions of the last weeks were those two that I shared with some friend.
The biggest small happiness was that I destroyed my project on the 60° wall. It was as if someone had changed the holds with jugs. I thought it was still possible to fall on the last move after seeing a friend of mine falling there, but when I got there I cranked so hard that I wouldn't have fallen even with yo' momma dangling from my cock.
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