Sunday, 7 November 2010


Time stopped and then started going backwards. From the 21st century I find myself catapulted back into the early '90s again.
At the time, all I could do to move up in the sport climbing scale, was to hang and pull small bits of wood in my parents' house cellar, surrounded by spiderwebs covering old and precious wine bottles, while listening to heavy metal audio tapes.
On friday, when at the phone with my climbing friends to arrange the weekend, each one of us would ask the others the same question: "did you train this week?" and each one of us, each time, would give the same answer: "not at all. I was too busy.".
The following day, you could see people lock down small crimps to the hips with a huge grin.
This went on for 8 years. 8 years of fingerboarding in a cellar. Then came the campus board, and it felt like having the greatest training facility in the world. Then, three years ago, I finally knew what's like to have a climbing wall in your own town, when I moved to Florence.
Now I am back to 1993.
The wall is no longer there and what is available for the moment is not enough to satisfy my Wille Zur Macht. Slightly overhanging walls with big holds are NOT the way forward.
So it's back to the future for me: back to the fingerboard to get to the future of my climbing. And I fucking love it. I really do love this shit. The harder it gets to move forward, the harder I push, the stronger I get, both physically and mentally. The more I put into it, the more I get back. So, each one of you, please, take a look into yourselves, see your future and do everything you can to get there. You'll love it.

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