Saturday, 31 December 2011


In the pics, the beasts during a pause. Yes, it was gorgeous.

Today I went there again, and I felt great. Everything was special again, myself included: I have never been so close.
I am happy because I understood why I keep going there: because each time I go there, I have another opportunity to improve and most of all, like today, I have another opportunity to feel happier.
I am happy. I am happy because I believe in myself, and because I want to be pure. As pure as my little dog Phoebe, who knew shit about what was going on around her - me, climbing at my best, like never before -, but who stayed close and calm, never barking, never crying, always ready to give me a lick on my face. I want to be as pure as a shark, or as a crocodile: the two creatures that changed the least during evolution. They are timeless animals: they do what they do since their appearence on Earth, and they do it because it's the only thing they know.
I wonder why I felt so good today.
I was alone, I was full of love.
I had all the sun in me, all the trees, all the air. I was in peace, I was even with the whole planet, nothing more to give, nothing more to have. The act of being there, completely there, was enough: whatever I gave, I had it back in some other form. I wonder what would I be writing, had I had a bad climbing day, but it doesn't matter. As long as I'm happy now, I don't care.
I am ready.

Wednesday, 28 December 2011


Yesterday was a special day, made of friends that are more like brothers, with me even if far away; a day made of perfection. Today was a normal day again, but nothing will ever be the same, I won't ever be the same: once we've been special, although for a brief moment, we won't turn normal ever again. Once we've loved, in a special way; once we've been loved, in a special way; or in this case once we've climbed, in a special way, we are changed forever. It may sound stupid to give such an importance to a climb, but it's not about the climb, it's about what you do to get that climb; it's about what you go through; it's about what you inflict to yourself and to your close ones; but most of all it's about understanding our deepest recesses; it's about discovering the most horrendous and the most beautiful aspects of ourselves.

Footage from today:

Saturday, 24 December 2011


I woke up this morning wanting to take advantage of the bad weather to finally catch up with the blogging, then I read the recent entries on Doylo's and Lu's blogs, and I realized that I had nothing worth reading, and I could somehow detract something from them by writing useless shit. Like I am doing right now.
Anyway, stupid thoughts aside, I also felt that I should at least give a decent reason for the absence.
The reason is the one mentioned above, the lack of anything notable.
In the last month, I have been doing nothing special. And that's the important thing. I have worked this past month, in transforming the extraordinary into routine.
My - once - best and rare efforts on my project now are the norm, happening many times each visit, and really something is fading in terms of pure and brutal desire. It's not challenging as it was before, and I am less excited. I am far from my physical limits in terms of power and that's important. It's still very difficult to get it done, but it's not really hard anymore. It's complicated more than hard. I have to have good, hard skin to bear the pain of the sharp holds, but if it's too hard I dryfire off. It's got to be fresh, but not cold, otherwise I get numb fingers and so on with many other variables. Oh well, that's the routine, as routinary became my repeats of the direct line under the roof. I can't remember the last time I fell off that thing. It's mindblowing to me.
Then, on the home front, I reset my Beastmaker on the door frame, and found out that it's not too bad despite my recent finger injury. Despite not being able to really pull on my right ring finger, it's fine while openhanded. I can still one arm dead hang the small pockets front two, I can still hold a front lever on the small monos and also on the small pockets mid two. Medal. Yawn.
I went back to Varazze, home of the world's hardest problem. I found out that in Varazze it's very important to always ask a local, if present, before trying a problem, despite having it all clear in the guide. The pattern on many problems is this: Christian Core cleaned and climbed a problem, giving it a grade which was probably lower than the real one, and that's the one you have in the guide; then the problem loses three or four holds and a few footholds; Christian Core reclimbs the problem, declaring the grade not changed; then the problem remains unrepeated.
So, before spending a day on a problem, get the lowdown.
I treated myself with this beauty:

And this is all.

Extraordinay, isn't it?