THE GYM

While in the gym, alone, with a few neon lights broken, fallen leaves everywhere on the mats (in summer?) and even some pigeon feathers, I couldn't help but notice every single wrong thing. The dust, the holds covered with grease and rubber. The same holds that have been on the walls since last october. The same holds that are marked by the same problems of last march. At some point it all seemed worthless.

This moment lasted so short.

I love this gym: it resembles alot my vision of bouldering. Stripped to its minimal terms. No room for bells and whistles here. Here, you come for training. If you search for cute girls, you're in the wrong place: the cute girls are here to get strong, mate, get a clue. If you search for bouldering partners, you're in the wrong place again: unless you want to come with me, you're bound to bolt clipping. If you search for quick ticks, ohh, how in the wrong place you are. The problem setters are three individuals (The Guru, Gianni and Damiano) that basically were born hanging small holds, and grew up locking them holds lower and lower.

I love the gym.

Despite having toil and torture in it, despite hating it. Despite being unable to climb at the other climbers' level, despite doing awful at the comps. Despite everything. Maybe it's just because it's a place for failing for me, rather than a place for succeeding. I go there for feeling weak and crap, and I do, goddammit if I do.

The gym is my place. The gym is the dirt where I deposit the seeds of my desires, of my fears, of the ever growing hunger of the demon. The gym is what will deposit me on top of my projects: every gram of chalk, every drop of sweat will deposit me on top of my projects for a single instant of satisfaction. Then I will think about going to a further hold, to a worse pinch, from a smaller crimp, from a slopier bulge. And I will start again. I will plant another seed. I will give birth to another demon. I will raise another snake.

I am flesh. I am heart. I am steel.

MEDIA, CRIMPS AND COMPRESSIONS

The last weekend, a strong team of pullers came along for a few days to taste some of the finest lines we have to offer. The chief is a very very talented climber, solidly placed in the top 15 of National Bouldering League, and he was already here last year, when he tried the main lines he was seeking, i.e. "Ossezia", the 8a+ compression roof, and the recently dubbed "Il Primo dei Moicani". He sent both in his three days visit, confirming the suggested grades.

The immediate result, apart from happiness in seeing our boulders getting the attention they deserve, has been a very very big hype about these small, private areas where the big numbers lie.

After a winter of solitary trips, carrying four pads to try the roof on my own, after begging for spotters for "Out of Service", after cleaning "Ossezia"from one year's worth of cobwebs, now everyone wants to come down and score. I'm receiving phone calls even from people I don't know, or I haven't climbed with, and they all want to get the tick.

This is nice but not only nice. It shows also how selfish we are. It shows how easy is for this fast food mentality to spread also in bouldering. You go there, you get the beta from a local, and you send. Or at least you try to.

Anyway, this also shows how little credit some of us get from other climbers. It took a strong climber from another region to come here to start people's interest in our boulders, when for years everyone's judged them poor, not tall enough, not hard enough.

Believe me, they can be not tall enough, but they are hard enough.

A friend called me to ask me if it was true about these first repeats, and was curious to know whether the direct line under the roof had been sent, saying that is what he's interested in. Oh well, that's too easy buddy. You can't come along from nowhere and go straight to the buffet.

I had decided to take it easy on the roof project.

Now they got me a bit pissed.

I'll trow everything I've got to that problem and I'll send it and I'll send it so hard they can't even imagine.

PRO TIPS #3

Girls, you are the greatest blessing a righteous boulderer could find at the crag.

The increase in power one experiments if bouldering surrounded by bouldering girls is something worth ligthing up a Las Vegas casino for a night.

But I'm going off track.

The Pro Tip is: get serious about your bouldering and get strong, because nothing is sexier than a nice girl getting angry and beasting a boulder problem into submission. Can you see some resemblance? Dress sexy at the crag, please, because you'll get the power burst also, when dozens of male eyes are watching you locking off a crimp. There's no need for Gucci shoes and Louis Vuitton bags, and there's no need for me to tell you how to be sexy: you have an art there. Just use it, it will make your bouldering day nicer, and mine as well.

On a side note, since the summer is almost over and maybe a few of you got some nice tanning, please, please (and I know I speak for millions of men) don't go to tanning centers to cover the part of your breast that's still white. And please, don't tan topless. A half tanned, half white breast, clearly showing the sign, the size, the shape of the top, is one of the sexiest things in this world. It is, because it involves imagination, it's like having in front of you a naked but dressed girl. So please, make all your boyfriends happy, and keep that white on!