Today we had a nice, full climbing day. I did another 7b, but was disappointed by not being able to do a few crucial moves on a 8a I was interested in doing. I spent three hours trying the moves and finally the possible sequence for me came out. In the meanwhile, Keith hicked it: if anynithing, this trip taught me how to climb under pressure. He was very kind anyway, and waited for me to have another 23 goes before finding out said sequence. I think it could be possible for me to do it, no, wait, I'm sure I can do it, I just don't know if I can do it in this trip, a subtle but important difference.
Anyway, after that I moved to Balance and had some nice goes, before starting feeling tired, greasing off the first hold, and being unable to use my right bicep, which seems to be receiving a serious workout in these days: oh well it will flex better on the beach this summer...
Hey, wait a minute, wasn't I going to spend the summer in Magic Wood? Well it will flex good there as well.
So, I have only a few hours of tomorrow (train at 5 pm), and still don't know what to do. Balance or Ouzo or a last minute effort on Fata Morgana? Dammit, five climbing days just aren't enough for me to tick hard stuff.
Then again, I think I'm a stupid bastard not to be jumping around with joy for what I've already climbed. Last time I was here, may 2007 (boiling) I did two or three 7a's. Now I've done at least two 7b's, one 7b+, and something else. Stupid stupid me, rejoice.
I have to tell you something about self consciousness, but not now.