Monday, 23 September 2013

DOLOMITES' BITES

 The rock bites the heavy climber. 

The heavy climber eats Kaiserschmarrn.

The heavy climber sees this landscape and he's happy. 

The heavy climber is glad he doesn't have to climb that mountain. 

The heavy climber gets heavier with eggs, speck and potatoes. They go in the biceps surely.

Basically, I didn't do much in the last weekend, apart what the captions describe.
The last time I'd seen those mountains was two years ago, and my life was completely different. I was about to leave Florence for Siena, to get back to my house, and to start commuting to work. This went on for two years, and is now over. I don't want to commute anymore, and luckily with the law practice going on and some other stuff, I can say a big "Fuck you" to the buses. 
My climbing was completely different also. 
I was a singleminded, obsessed punter with delusions of grandeur, who was easliy capable of going to Swiss for a basically one day round trip, or of going and putting laps on roofs with 37° in a Mediterran Summer. 
I was living mostly in isolation. 
Well, when I read back many of the posts here, I am ashamed by the amount of shit I've written in the past. The ego, the hypocrisy, the self-reference. 
But, I can see a thin line going through all this: I never never forgot that the only true joy is in sharing. Sharing everything. 
This weekend, as the last previous one in the Dolomites, was about sharing. Sharing the coffee that I usually drink on my own; sharing the boulders; sharing the thoughts; sharing the drive, the beer, the eggs. Sharing, sharing all. Spending hours with my friends trying to climb their first 6a. Then asking them to wait for me for a last go on something too hard. Then thanking them for their patience. 
A lot of time ago, I had a project. 
I climbed it in any possible condition, and despite reaching the final hold, I never toped it out. I think I've climbed it. I feel I've climbed it. My sponsors wouldn't be happy to hear about my indulgence towards myself, but given that I have no sponsors, it's all right. 
Why is it all right? 
First, because I say so. I climb for myself only, I am free at last, and if I feel that I've done something, I don't need to top out if I don't want to. 
Second, because when I first touched that final hold, I wasn't alone. I was with Andrea, my best friend, my brother and my climbing mentor. We were there, climbing together for the first time in years, and it seemed as if time had gone back to when we were in our 20's. 
It's not a coincidence that I climbed at my best that day. I was pushed forward by Andrea's presence, by the infinite power of brotherhood. Sharing. 
That's why, for me, I climbed the problem that day. Because I was with him and nothing can beat this, not even toping out on my own. 
There are moments that are uniques in our lives, and that was one of those: I eventually did my best effort on the project and that's enough. 
So, while I keep adding kilos to my deadhangs, and while my grades on real rock drop at a lightning fast rate, I say: share. 
 

4 comments:

vaucanson vero said...

Hi Lorenzo, nice to hear news from you again ! I am glad you enjoyed your climbing journey in Dolomites. Please continue to share with us, poor fellows, your passion. Vero

lore said...

Ciao Vero, nice to hear from you!!!
Thanks for finding the time to read my ramblings.
But why "poor fellows"?
E il tuo italiano come va? Che cosa hai fatto nell'estate?
A presto!

tuco benedicto said...

è bello vedere scritte certe cose. anch'io sono stato sulla tua strada. una vita scandita da allenamenti folli, pochissime soddisfazioni su roccia, poche e molto sudate soddisfazioni sul trave o in palesta. non voglio fare mai più niente da solo, ora vado ad arrampicare per stare bene con i miei amici. basta lottare contro se stessi, contro i propri limiti. qualsiasi successo, per quanto desiderato o sudato, resta pur sempre un regalo che la vita ci ha concesso. potevamo nascere storpi. senza i geni giusti, senza gli amici giusti, senza la mentalità giusta, non si diventa campioni. io non avevo nè i geni nè la mentalità giusta per vincere. però avevo ed ho ancora dei grandi amici. chi cazzo se ne frega di fare l'8b? per vantarsene di fronte a chi? ai miei amici non fregava un cazzo se facevo o meno l'8b. così ho abbandonato gli sforzi che non portano a migliorare la vita mia e dei miei cari.

lore said...

Grazie Tuco, sia per il commento che per trovare il tempo di leggere le mie cose.