Unlike young student Raskolnikov, I'm not planning to kill a granny, but still something made me reflect over this. The police officer who's investigating on the murder, takes as an example of Raskolnikov guilt an article about how, "extraordinary men" are entitled to put themselves over moral laws, just because of their being "extraordinary".
The Guru, in his infinite knowledge and dedication to the cause of small holds spread far apart on a 60° wall, turned me into a cocky bastard.
That's probably his biggest miracle, given that in my childhood (and maybe still now) I've been a very nerdy type: thin, short, bespectacled boy with some studying interests, I was up for some beatings sometime, and had to often talk my way out of troubled situations with some troglodites of primary school. Always doubtful and unsure, my self confidence would fall, for a philosophe, in the ontologycal category of the "being not".
I like this transformation, because I worked hard for it, I earned it and I deserved it. Plus, as I had the chance to notice thanks to Dobbin's blog ( http://dobbinwondermule.blogspot.com/2008/10/heed-young-punk.html ) my attitude is after all very laid back, because I still know that I can't afford otherwise!
But some things led me to step up to my responsibilities, not only towards myself, but, for once, towards others: The Guru in this case. I owe him some crushing. Everyone knows he's training me, so if I don't crush, I don't promote his job, and that's unfair.
I often train with two strong friends, who happen to be around 185 cm tall... as you can tell, when they chose the holds, I'm facing big troubles. I take my revenge with nasty foot-hand matches, but that's not enough, what I like to do now is try and send their problems as soon as I can. It rarely happens, but I'm happy nonetheless because it's due to the fact that I often do great progress very rapidly, and quickly lose interest after burnig them off. That's both not fair, not polite, not friendly, but that's how we roll now, and there's no way I'm going to step back from one of their problems, or to "allow me another foothold", as they like to suggest, because I'm too stretched out. No way baby.
Anyway, before this becomes longer than the russian masterpiece of the title, my crime is throwing myself at everything they show me, and trying to vapourize it; my punishment is getting addicted to it.
P.S. mid october, 8 30 AM, 20° and cloudy...