I am currently at the end of my first rest week, and another one will follow. I can't remember the last time I took two weeks out, injuries apart. It must be years. I came home from Font pretty tired, and the way the trip went, explaines that easily. In the conditions we found, every day could have been the last climbing day, that's why every day we didn't stop until brain impulses bounced back from our muscles.
Moreover, instead of bashing one single, hard project into submission, in super high intensity, brief sessions, we basically tried whatever was dry, putting in far too much volume. Eight days in a row, then, made the rest.
But still wasn't enough. I got home, spent the weekend on the couch, then it was back to the gym. I had decided not to train, obviously, but simply climb, and I found myself in pretty good shape, althuogh tired. I was climbing well, fairly sparky, but unable to last for more than ten minutes. Something was going wrong. During the second session I found myself yawning between attempts. In the whole third session I climbed nothing but one problem, and probably not even hard. Oh well, I thought, on the rock I will be strong. Ah, how far I was from reality. The rocks smashed me, and for good. I was as heavy as a battleship. With my last calories I tried to repeat the Roof Direct, and to my surprise I almost did, but my body was so tired that I had absolutely no core tension, so more like a jelly battleship.
With a sore back, sore elbows, sore wrists and sore soul, I decided to rest. And so I rested, which fitted perfectly with my recent schedule of at least 8 hours of lessons every day, saturdays included. What we do for money.
But the fire is burning strong as ever. Tomorrow I will go back to Amiata to climb the new line I saw on the lip of "Ossezia": a rightward traverse on crimps and slopers that promises a good tick. I decided not to force too much the sequence, I called the big jugs out but will use a good hold that is lower, which is perfectly into the line. Anyway, I will work and rest for the next weeks, then I will go to Ticino. I am eager to finally try my other projects. Oh fuck. Now I'm fully psyched to crush, and I have to wait until tomorrow: I'll have to get naked and go on the balcony and yell at full voice that I will climb 8b's, so loud that babies will start crying, dogs will bark and old ladies will freeze in terror. Pretty girls will wink, though.
Damn this fucking blog.
Moreover, instead of bashing one single, hard project into submission, in super high intensity, brief sessions, we basically tried whatever was dry, putting in far too much volume. Eight days in a row, then, made the rest.
But still wasn't enough. I got home, spent the weekend on the couch, then it was back to the gym. I had decided not to train, obviously, but simply climb, and I found myself in pretty good shape, althuogh tired. I was climbing well, fairly sparky, but unable to last for more than ten minutes. Something was going wrong. During the second session I found myself yawning between attempts. In the whole third session I climbed nothing but one problem, and probably not even hard. Oh well, I thought, on the rock I will be strong. Ah, how far I was from reality. The rocks smashed me, and for good. I was as heavy as a battleship. With my last calories I tried to repeat the Roof Direct, and to my surprise I almost did, but my body was so tired that I had absolutely no core tension, so more like a jelly battleship.
With a sore back, sore elbows, sore wrists and sore soul, I decided to rest. And so I rested, which fitted perfectly with my recent schedule of at least 8 hours of lessons every day, saturdays included. What we do for money.
But the fire is burning strong as ever. Tomorrow I will go back to Amiata to climb the new line I saw on the lip of "Ossezia": a rightward traverse on crimps and slopers that promises a good tick. I decided not to force too much the sequence, I called the big jugs out but will use a good hold that is lower, which is perfectly into the line. Anyway, I will work and rest for the next weeks, then I will go to Ticino. I am eager to finally try my other projects. Oh fuck. Now I'm fully psyched to crush, and I have to wait until tomorrow: I'll have to get naked and go on the balcony and yell at full voice that I will climb 8b's, so loud that babies will start crying, dogs will bark and old ladies will freeze in terror. Pretty girls will wink, though.
Damn this fucking blog.
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