TWO DAYS AND TWO KILOS

I'll try to be brief this time.
Two days is not only how long the new final sequence lasted, it's also how long the bouldering season lasted.
I went today, and it was boiling. My fingertips are shredded and painful, and I could not have a decent go.
Luckily I had finally remembered, this morning, to bring the weightbelt with me, so I took the opportunity to start training, given that climbing the project was out of question.
What a difference two kilos made!
I don't think I've done more than three moves in a row! Skin was a problem for sure, it was painful without that extra weight, imagine how painful it was with it, but I don't care.
I am out of my (tiny little) mind with happiness. Trying so hard, failing so hard, feeling every move so hard, filled my heart with joy and my mind with psyche. I was stuck, I kept going there to repeat what I've already done basically, and as I've said, I had lost focus. Now, with a simple weightbelt on, my world is full of energy again.
It's clear that I love this shit. I love the struggle. I love the process of putting myself under pressure. I love to train, and to suffer when doing it. It's been like starting it all again: the enthusiasm, the dreaming, everything was there again, despite the boiling sun, my shredded tips and my aching muscles. My mind has never been so strong. I see a goal in front of myself, a new one. I needed it. If only I'd known it before.
After getting home and having a shower, I went for a walk with the dog. On the way home, I stopped by Trombicche, my favourite place in Siena, for a glass of red wine. Walking back home, I found myself so happy; I was thinking that I could relax, have a nice meal and go to bed without worries, because tomorrow I won't neither train nor climb, I will only have to work.
Imagine this, a life that works at the opposite. I can relax because I don't train. Ahah!!! That's mental, innit.
It's beautiful to have a new path in front of me and to know that with each step I will improve. The battle is the aim, enjoy the battle.

TWO DAYS

In the pics, the original sequence from another point of view, a point you can read about below.

Two days, that's how long the new final sequence for my project lasted.
Yesterday I realized I cannot and I don't really want to use it, and for many reasons I want to stick to the old sequence, the original and the only one.
First of all, the original sequence is the original, and that's enough.
Second, I have climbed the original problem using the original sequence at least 20 times.
Third, I have climbed the project with the original sequence twice already, without managing to top it out.
More precisely, I cannot use the new sequence, because I rationally put myself into finding it, to cut off a low percentage move. Well, that's finding a shortcut; in reality not, because as I've said the new sequence added a move and was really more physical, but it was also, for me, a lot more steady (although I never got the chance to try how that last deep lock would feel, coming from the start); so, being more physical and more steady for me, it's also easier. And that's not fair.
Moreover, the first line to be climbed on that roof, was a problem I put up to start practicing the direct line: it featured its first hard moves, then abruptedly cut right to big holds and the top, in a sequence whose final move was the same of my new sequence of the project.
So, that is really dirty. If I go right at the top, why not going right lower? How could I justify, to a climber who attempts the problem in the future, that he or she cannot go right low, but only at the top? How could I explain that he or she cannot get the jug because it's out? How could I tell him or her that it's unfair to directly dyno to the good pinch skipping the nasty crimp?
You see, what a mess from a simple move.
Then, most importantly, what about myself? The new sequence, having already succeeded with the original one, is for sure a step back, both in terms of climbing ability and mental strength. If something feels easier, in a situation like this one, it equals cheating. It's not like using all the holds while others skip them, it's using holds that neither I, have never used. If I climb the problem with the new sequence, there could be only two possibilities: I never try it again, never fully appreciating how the original one would feel after topping it out, and having doubts forever about my ascent and never getting the chance to get better; or I keep trying it to repeat it with the old sequence. Both are useless.
The first one for the above reasons, the second one because it's just pointless.
So, in the brief space of two days I changed again my mind. I wonder if, last Sunday, when I was so weak, it was also because I had been searching that shortcut; I had cheated; I had admitted defeat. I'll never know.
What I know, is that one of my resolutions for this year was, and still is, to be pure. Especially to myself, which is my most severe judge.
So tomorrow I will go there, and again I will try to destroy that motherfucker that is ruining my life. If I can't, I'll pull out of my bag my weight vest, I'll wear it, and I will start lapping the motherfucker with 2 kg on, as a start. Then I will go on, and on, and on, until I'll feel satisfied.
When will I be satisfied? I don't know, but crushing the project in fine style without breaking a sweat could bring me some kind of joy, I reckon.
Chalking up before the final move, could.
Getting the jug so easily that Velasquez could have portrayed me in the meanwhile, could.
You got the idea, I'm sure.
Many years ago, when I was 14, one night I went with some friends to steal bengal lights from the train depot, to use them the following day at a football match. And I never liked football!!! We had to cut the barb wire, to crawl under the lights, and all that stuff. We nearly got caught. I wonder why I put myself in that situation.
I wonder why I put myself in this situation: this problem plays to all my weaknesses. It's long, 15 moves; the hard part is the last 4 moves; the hard moves are dynamic, something I'm very bad at, and reachy. Plus, it has small, painful holds, mostly pinches, a prehension I have never ever trained until recently. The enemies we choose qualify us more than our friends. Enemies are chosen by hate, friends by love, and hate is always more pure and more sincere than love. I wish I hadn't seen that line. Or do I?
But now it's too late. I'm stuck in it. I've done all the hard part, I only have to bear the pain and top it out, then I'll go home and I'll watch my face in the mirror for a long time. And what I'll see will be the true me.
Keep the fucking faith, love and destroy.

6 A.M.

In the pics, the new sequence. Powerful but steady.




In the pics, the final move stuck with the old sequence, on one of my best goes. Ouch!

Tomorrow is Monday, and my alarm will go off at 6.
My holidays are over and they've been great: I climbed nearly every day (nearly every day on the same problem, I must add) and I am happy.
Yesterday I finally decided to change the final sequence: I am bored of smashing my fingers over the hold, under the hold, to the right of the hold, or getting flappers due to its sharp and painful lip. This new sequence adds one move, and it's more physical than the old one, but it's also more secure.
The real problem, though, is that I am not enjoying this anymore. I am happy with every good go, but as I've said I feel it's over, and every go that doesn't see me to the last hold is perceived as a failure and a step back from my best efforts. Some days I didn't want to be there really, and only the company of friends or the simple presence of my dog gave me the necessary happiness to give my best.
I found out it's about happiness.
So, today I went there to finish the business with the new sequence. Well, I couldn't even do the moves in isolation. OK, it was very hot (spring is here definitely, mount Amiata has not seen a snowflake), humid and still, and I was on my fourth day on, but it was too perfect not to give it a try: a siege of months, progressing from not doing the moves, to doing bits of the whole problem, to getting close, to losing my mental sanity, to recovering it, to keeping going there during the summer, to finally finding myself with the final hold in my hand and letting go, to finding a new sequence and, in my mind, to finally doing it on my last day before going back to work and real life.
Wow, that would have been perfect.
It wasn't to be. I gave 110%, trying to find every possible faggotry to climb it, from liquid chalk, to putting my clothes on the holds to cool them down, to sheltering the sun with a pad (obviously falling exactly on the move that at that point was uprotected, a move I haven't fallen off from in months...), but simply I could not do it. As I said, I didn't even do the single moves.
Could I give more? Fuck no. Not today, not in the last two weeks.
I will go back to work and for sure I'll be thinking about the problem. I'll be asking myself if this new sequence is cheating. I'll be asking myself if it's simply the time to let it go. The fact is that I want to be happy while trying it, and this sequence makes me happy.
Now it's time to focus on work and training, hopefully I won't have a tight schedule right from the start, so the plan is to rest tomorrow, have a session on Tuesday morning, rest Wednesday then deliver on Thursday if I am free from school.
I am not exactly sure I became weak(er) while concentrating only on this project. Maybe I haven't broadened my skills, but for sure I perfected what I can do. Proof is that the other day, at the end of the session, I managed a new 7c that Michele had just opened (and hiked as a warm down five times in a row to get footage...); what once would have been a seasonal success, is now an end of session tick. Cool.
Right now, just before going to bed, and with work ahead again, I really am proud of myself. Years ago, when I had the other jobs, in the bank, or at the Public Notary firm, Suday evenings were a nightmare. As soon as I packed the car, with crashpads or my longboard, all the happiness of the day was gone, because in front of me I only had a job that I hated, and that gave me nothing except money: no joy, no self esteem, no commitment, nothing but money, dirty, soulless money. My jobs stole not only my happiness, but also my time, because they cancelled the good moments I'd had. I desired something else, and I never stopped searching the balance. I did not quit. I upset and disappointed many people, but finally I found what I like and what makes me happy. I don't need money, I need people. I need humans. I need good relationships, my best friends close to me. I need to see smiles when I'm at work, and I need to be thanked.
I won back an entire part of my life: I have my Sunday evenings again. And most of all I have my entire self back. The good and the evil self, but I have it all and I am, for once, proud of what I do.
Keep the fucking faith, love and destroy.