Thursday, 8 April 2010


This is definitely a strange moment. I am really fighting to gain back a decent state of form, but I seem unable to really comprehend the causes.
I was thinking that two weeks off would sort things out, but it looks like I was wrong. Ok, I have a tweaked finger, but that's not enough. I think that one of the most important aspects is that I really really don't want to be in the gym these days. The feeling of depression I get every time I step in, is hard to describe, but it manages to completely make my psyche disappear, and I have to say that I am well psyched to go and train every day I can. Magically, all this good will vanishes as I open the green door. Maybe it's the presence of kids screaming all around, maybe the fact that there are no new problems, maybe the new volume on the 45° that made my project unclimbable, sitting in the smack middle of the crux move.
Anyway I don't let these minimal reasons hold me back. I just keep going there until I puke.
One other reason I am trying to analyze is my new fingerboard routine, taken from the Beasts. It is hard, maybe too hard for me at the moment, or maybe it just packs in too much volume: the consequence, anyway, is the same, I am unable to climb shit after it. Seeing how the said Beasts do more or less the double than I do, is mindblowing.
It's good to change though, and I am positive that it will pay alot, as soon as I get familiar with it. Probably reducing the number of series and raising the intensity could do for me, after all I don't really need to perform seven series of seven hangs for each type of hold, yesterday my forearms were pumped and swollen for at least another hour after finishing the routine.
One last consideration is about food. I am thinking that I am eating not enough, or not well enough. Maybe an email to a friend of mine who is a specialist in nutrition could be useful.
Then: I finally bought a Beastmaker. I am really excited, to say the least. I am looking forward new sessions, right in the comfort of my home, with my music and perfect, smooth and beasty holds. The idea is to cancel from my mind the thought that I can't hang a hold. Hanging onto pencil lines drawn on the wall is my mid term goal. The long term goal is one arming them lines.
Finally, something climbing related. Despite being pumped silly and tired for the whole session, yesterday I gave a true will power display. After doing a couple of easier problems in horrible style on the 10° wall (I didn't know they could make walls only 10° overhanging), I was pointed at a project on the 45°. On more familiar ground I set off for the flash, and I failed, being unable to swing out left to a very good foothold from two crimps that you hold with your arms crossed. I gave it another go, but this time even the first two moves proved to be too hard for me. Sadness. Before putting in more useless efforts, I wanted to know whether the swing move was doable, so I reached the far away foothold, then using ohter holds tried to get into the cross crimps positions: nearly impossible even from jugs. I was just about to let the shitty project rot in hell when I saw the light, under the form of a huge dyno, with the crimps switched: YYFY, it was doable. Now I only had to do it.
Again this was the hardest bit. I fell twice on the starting moves, exhausted. Then I missed the dyno, then I got the dyno but ripped from the left hand crimp. I kicked the chalkbag and rested. I wanted to get it done, more as a mind effort than a physical one. And I did. I sat under the starting holds, closed my eyes and started thinking to every move, to the millimeter, to every hold, to the sensation of power I wanted to recall from my squeezed muscles. I dispatched it. The first moves went as smooth as a drill in a concrete wall, pure power, then the dyno didn't even feel hard. Just the time to slightly fuck the feet sequence and I was eyeing the final jug, trying to put my body in balance to stick it, but before I was able to compose my rational thoughts, my non conscious mind had already taken over, and I found myself falling on the hold, latching it, swinging out on one arm while letting go a power scream and a horrible swear.
Cristiano smiled and I was happy.
It's all in the mind. And in the muscles.

No comments: