REALITY BITES!

In the pics, something to keep me warm, and the beast at work in the torture chamber.

"Fuck Italy" pretty much sums up my recent thoughts.
I went to the roof yesterday with my friend Filo, who was with me in UK as well, and it's been a good day, but only because of his company. I missed being at Stanage, pounded by a cold wind, and I missed being at Parisella's Cave, drying up holds.
I did not expect to come back home and find temps already in the 20° range.
The season is over.
I had one go on "Futurismo", and it felt good, but pain was really too much: shame because despite being tired, after more than ten days of climbing or training with only one day off, my forearms were responding well, and I didn't feel pumped.
Subsequent goes on the other problems with my weightbelt on proved impossible, I needed to squeeze too much on the hot rock to stay put, and pain was really unbearable. Whatever I want to do on rock in the close furure, must start very early in the morning.
I came home from UK really, really tired. My last day spent in Font was amazing, the clue is to be guided, without focusing on climbing hard on your first - and only - day in the forest in a year. I met a good bunch of Brits, some of them I had previously met under the roof of Parisella's Cave, and I had a very very good day.
I felt happy and in peace.
Now then, I need to change something.
I ache. I really ache. My fingers are OK, and my elbows also (touch wood), but my back, lower back, lats and knees are sore. The knees especially worry me: in the morning I barely can walk out of bed, and can't sit down without leaning on something. My body is not telling me something, it's yelling it.
So, I think I can still manage a new problem in an old area, the original version of what years ago became "Tailgunner". I could not climb it how I had imagined and resolved to use a few toe hooks that now I want to eliminate: this area is still under the snow, being in the deep shade, so that's still on the go.
Apart from that, I'm sure - at the moment - that this year I don't want to face another summer like the last one. Going to the boulders in boiling temps, falling on easy problems and getting angry is not for me. I want to keep training and go climbing in specific, good occasions. We will see if I can manage to keep the promise.
Moreover, last summer I had the project in my mind. Now I don't have this stimulus anymore. The line is there, I have done it many times and only need to top it out. It will happen sooner or later, and if it doesn't happen, the only thing that matters is that this project propelled me towards the best climbing form I've ever had. The progression is the only thing that matters to me, because it's certain. Once it levels out, it's time to move.
I want to go surfing again.
More than one year and half has passed since my last time in the water, and it's time to get wet again. Unluckily, surf spots now are super crowded, and gone are the good old times when I shared perfect sets only with my buddy Jac.
I have to time perfectly my reentry, because I don't want to spoil it with bad vibes and idiots. To start the ball rolling, today I used a birthday gift card to buy a new thermal rashguard to wear under my wetsuit, and also new gloves. I always hated to surf all rubbered up, and often paddled in with no booties even in full winter, but this time I want to be as comfy as I can get, because I surf for the joy, and because I'm fucking old and creaky.
Which leads me to another subject.
The other day it occurred to me that, besides a few occasions that I can count on a hand's fingers, I normally boulder with guys that are at least 8-10 years younger than me.
I never think about this, because I really don't care much about my age, but the fact is that I have that age, and my body does. I have come to the conclusion that my project of an endless progression throughout my entire life, with maybe a little plateau around the 90 years old mark, could be a bit optimistic. I think that at the current moment I am at the peak of my overall climbing capacity in terms of power, technique and skills on the rock; I know that even if this doesn't translate into amazing performances, with some more time to dedicate to the rock I could still do well in different areas. This last trip to UK and Font proved it, especially Font: I know I can do well in Parisella's, but having good goes on vertical 7b's in Font after few tries is a very good progress.
This age issue leads us back, in a perfect ringkomposition, to the fact that I ache and I need to change something right now. I have trained and climbed hard since mid September, and if I want to keep moving on I need to vary.
Hence the surfing.
But I also want to focus on dead lifting. I am thinking about a possible training schedule for the late spring-summer-early autumn, revolving around two weekly session in the gym (one session doing my usual weights routine and the other doing just dead lifts), two weekly sessions on my wall (adjusting the session to the feeling), and one weekly session on the Beastmaker; then forget about the rock until it gets cool again, and surf in the weekends when waves roll in.
This plan revitalized my mojo and gave me a decent psyche.
Last but not least, I want to thank once again all the friendly faces that I met during this trip. I always felt at home wherever I went, and this is why I keep coming.

UK AND SECOND CHANCES

Once again at a friend's house, once again at Stanage, once again at Parisella's cave, once again at the pubs, everything is apparently the same, yet it's completely different.

I wasn't sure I could be doing this trip until the last days before leaving, due to a physical problem that gave me a real bad time and stopped my training for the first three weeks of February.

But I made it, in the end.

I came over with some other friends apart Michele this time, and when we dropped our pads at Plantation, I felt not only at home again, but also something very very new and different, whose origin I found in last year's successful trip: I was feeling happy.

I didn't want to try anything in particular, I was just happy to show my friends around and watch their smiles. This has been priceless.

I wanted to do Brad Pit again and I couldn't, to be honest at first I didn't even manage to heel hook and this left me shocked; my usual thought "It's time to quit" appeared again. Then I tried it again after carefully watching others try - or lap - it, and I realized that five months of face-on bouldering on my wall couldn't be translated into this problem. I carefully chose my position and did the heel hook and the cross easily. Maybe I won't quit yet.

On that occasion I realized also that I made a big schoolboy error this time: I only brought new shoes. My Solutions are so tight that I can't wear them without a plastic bag, and the heel rubber is still so new that in the cold of Stanage didn't ever stick to the sloper. I had similar problems at Parisella's cave, whose strange placements I could not feel with new, stiff shoes. But that's another story.

So yes, I was happy. I was happy also the following day, when a soaked hold hindered me - but not Rich - from doing Lou Ferrino. A true crusher would have crushed it anyway. I did it into the third move, fell, dried the hold then went to the end . One to come back for.

Yesterday was a gorgeous day, I walked around Liverpool, had a haircut, chilled out, ate a lot, and I also visited the Cathedral's tower. Last year I found the tower closed for works, and I was very disappointed; I thought "When will I have another chance to see it?". Well, I don't believe much in second chances, I believe that one can simply try again. This is a very stupid thing to say, but I think there's a great difference between thinking in terms of "chances" and in terms of "trying again": in the first case we wait for something to happen, in the second case we want to make it happen.

What do I want to make happen again? I still want to climb Brad Pit again, but I also want to finish Lou Ferrino and Jerry's Traverse at Stanage. I want to keep visiting my friends and I want to make them come to Italy. I want to keep training and believing that I am not the shittest climber I've ever seen. I want to keep the faith in my projects and become a better teacher.

I also want to start deadlifting.

I am close to the end of five weeks off work, and again I cannot help but think about how hard I fought to find myself in this position. Many people around me supported my decision, and thanks to them and to that little bit of foolishness and luck, I never had to ask for a second chance.

FEET ON THE GROUND!

In the pics my new bass and some wonderful moments, pre and post party.

I think that my latest entries were too serious and presumptuous, but I am a presumptuous bastard, so I guess that's normal.
Anyway, I am two weeks into my holidays and things have been a bit hectic, at least in my mind.
I have been trying to arrange a trip up to UK, but until yesterday it was very unlikely; this drove me crazy because I felt absolutely useless. Then it snowed, and snowed, and snowed.
I found myself buried at home: temps ranging from -3° to -11°, closed roads and boulders covered in snow didn't help me in maintaining my self control and Italian aplomb. At moments I almost went crazy. After a few days of forced rest, and just before throwing furniture out of the window, I decided to break the spell and found myself under the Beastmaker, with my weightvest on. What a glorious decision!!! A great session, my first one with 5 kilos on, and it literally made me happy.
I still don't know how the Beastmaker works, after a layoff it seems like that one is still progressing, and it takes very little to regain a personal high even after a long time off it. Anyway I completed all the 6 prescribed sets on the 10 chosen holds; I surprised myself by hanging the 45°, the index monos, the slopey pockets and all the other ones, a real big step forward.
A good Beastmaker session for sure is miles better than Prozac.
This session left my forearms a bit worked, and after a rest day I decided do lift some weights, so I went to the gym and found out that I haven't lost much from August, when I worked out for the last time. Oh well!!! I went back home in a freezing wind, trying not to kill myself on the iced snow, only thinking about a big chicken meal and my comfy bed. It wasn't to be: from the road all the lights in the house seemed off, and when I opened the door I saw the shadows of many people singing "Happy Birthday" for me. My girlfriend had spent the last two weeks organizing a surprise party!!! I was truly shocked and for a good quarter of an hour was unable to really comprehend what was going on!!! It's been a great night with lots of friends, food, alcohol and presents!!!
In the following days I did some cross training under the form of shoveling tons of snow from my road to warrant me some mobility (to where I didn't know).
As I found out that climbing was out of question, with short one day windows of good weather between snowstorms, it was time to train again.
I still hadn't completely recovered so I knew I didn't have much volume, and I opted for one arm max hangs.
I did some tests and found out good improvements: I set a PB on the big rung with both the left and right arm (10 seconds with 14 kilos with the right, twice); and I also managed two very good right hand hangs of the small pockets with front2 (that's 7c+ in the charts bitch!); I did many other sets especially on front2 and mid2, to finish off with some max hangs on the incut jug (whose depht I reduced putting in some cardboard); then I was too tired to do anything else, but today I don't feel much tired, so maybe it could be possible to do another session.
As you can tell, this post is quite meaningless, if you A) don't have a Beastmaker (I pity the fool); and B) you don't like training; and even if you tick both boxes, it still does not say much.
What I can tell is that I really enjoyed these last sessions, and I'm sure I'll reap what I'm sowing. And I'm not sowing the seeds of love, mind.
Finally, some glorious moments in full video galore.