Living in close-knit relationship with a reality possessing a dreaming taste, where everything is extraordinary and exaggerated. The constant body exercise constitutes a valid human goal which becomes a precious source of initiative, action and courage. It teaches not to count on somebody else or on something stranger to Nature. It is prime concern for Lucio Royas to rely on himself in order to reach his very ambitious, the Nietzsche Superman. Lucio Royas lives in a sort of primitive way; he does not like domain Nature or destroy it, he adapts to it. A grey dawn welcomes Lucio Royas as he jumps on his bicycle. He has planned to head for his so-much-loved Imagna Valley where he wants to climb the Bedulita slopes and to reach Costa Imagna where the astonishing view will convince him that the effort he has just produced was well worthy. The climb first kilometres sneak through the houses of Capizzone and Bedulita, then the road penetrates into the magic thick woodland. Lucio Royas is always hypnotised by the beauty of this place although he has seen it hundreds of times, it is an untouched enchantment. Everything within him and around him has turned untidy; visions, emotions, imagines. His mood becomes fickle because of the grandiosity standing before his eyes. In his soul live the harmony, the strength and the mystery of the surrounding elements. He is exalted by the richness of the experience he is living realising that a very few places can offer him such an immense and sublime sentiment.

Lucio Royas

Manuel Roca is not an only child. Lucio Royas is his twin brother that lives in Italy. He once lived in Mato Rujo but eventually decided to go back to his land of origin, namely Berbenno in the northern Italian Bergamo province. All he managed to stay far from the Alps was one year, then a strong sentiment of nostalgia kicked in and Lucio Royas flew back home. As well as Manuel Roca, Lucio Royas belongs to the cycling world and when he lived in Mato Rujo he strongly missed his roads. Pushed by the powerful attraction of memories he returned to cycle up and down the slopes that abounds in the area. When he recalls the first day he got home after the year spent abroad his mind is filled with thrilling emotions. He thought time had stopped forever. Nothing had changed since the last time he was there. The woodlands, the paths, the water streams, the meadows decorated with flowers, the avifauna, the peaceful animals, all had remained the same. The flow of his memories regained its right place within his soul. The inner call of his places and the desire to belong once again to his land brought him back for good. Now, he has settled down there and will not leave for any reason in the world. The love for his mountains is obviously estraordinary and gives a magic touch to the already enchanted scenaries.

Arctic polar circle

Most of the times, Manuel Rocal pedals in solitude. Often, he feels the necessity to question himself and meditate over various issues. First of all, on the extreme need to return to a more human dimension since he is convinced to have abandoned it due to this over technological world. Furthermore, he reflects on the obligation to adopt a respectful attitude towards the greatness and uniqueness of Nature. Without a shadow of a doubt, questioning and meditating serve to maintain his physical and intellectual well-being in good form. These mental exercises permit Manuel Roca to know his more hidden thoughts, to speak to his soul and, to reflect over some already taken decisions and some completed works. Manuel Roca has chosen to live in agreement with his very way of being that is generally diverse from the forms of life that are frequently proposed and imposed upon people. Surrounded by immense silence, in the infinite open spaces of his mind, Manuel Roca has found his reason of being, a manner to live which is within his human measures. People have rapidly drawn away from the umbilical cord that unites them to Mother Nature making them feel bewildered. Manuel Roca does not need to travel to Amazonia or to the Arctic Polar Circle to experience open spaces, wilderness and quietness; he is inclined to believe that immense spaces are within his mind. It is there where he wants to produce travelling, discovering and exploring sceneries. The beauty of adventure is to dream of it, to free imagination in such a way as to attempt to create the best possible reality in which to live. For this reason, fantasy needs escorting him at all time to generate inside his head a gorgeous reflexion of what happens around him. In other words, the ugliness Manuel Roca sees every day which he does not like is transformed in an attractive condition. Cheating is the only way he knows to survive.

diesel and oil levels

Living on the edge of uncertainty is not something Manuel Roca is fond of. He likes knowing that things he has planned can go ahead without impeding circumstances hindering the way. Unfortunately, for the last two days he has been unsure whether his holiday plans will stick to the program he had prepared. It will all depend on his left knee that, at the moment, is still painful. Yesterday he put some ice on it and before going to bed he rubbed some gel resulting in a less painful knee this morning. It might only be an impression and for that reason Manuel Roca is quite concerned. Effectively, the pain has not gone away and until the very moment the knee will be ache free, Manuel Roca cannot be sure of anything. He decided anyway that he will go to Pecol and see what happens once he is there. Of course he will not run the risk to start the race with a knee liable to stop functioning properly after a while. Running that risk would also imply the possibility of not being able to pedal next week in Italy. That would be a real shame since Manuel Roca has been looking forward to this for a long time.
In his head he is trying to picture out the reasons that led to this default. He is pretty sure that he was simply overdoing and that his left knee could not cope with it any longer. There were not any hints informing Manuel Roca in advance about what was going on and therefore not much could be done to avoid it. Human body is not like a car that tells the owner about diesel and oil levels at all time. Body can shut down at any moment if it has not been utilized properly or if it has been exploited. This is a matter of fact and Manuel Roca will need to learn from this experience in order not to incur another time in the same problem. He wanders now whether he should have not given to his body more time to recover between training sessions. Too late.

Knee inflammation

On the way to Pecol there has been an unforeseen event. Manuel Roca was out cycling on his bike very early this morning and after the second climb interval he did feel a stark pain in his left knee. At first he thought it was nothing serious so he did a third interval as he had planned but later he found out that the problem was not minor. In fact, after that he could not push on the left pedal as he wanted to and the pain grew acuter. It is not a good news since Pecol is only 6 days from now and it is not guaranteed the pain will disappear by then. It might be and inflammation to one of the tendons which can be curable by resting a few days. Of course, it must be said that Manuel Roca was really training hard in these days and definitely his system was considerably under lots of stress. However, this event caught him by surprise since ha has never had anything alike before. There is not despair in his mood since he understands that the human body is not made of steel and can malfunction sometimes. Also, he is well aware that this is not a big deal of a problem since real problems in life are of others nature. Talking about his building up for Pecol, Manuel Roca has always affirmed he was enjoying the actual his preparation of the race, the long hours in the saddle, the combination bike, running and static trainer, keeping very healthy, eating as an athlete, reaching the top form weight and last but not least, feeling really strong on his bike. If he managed to do Pecol and enjoyed the event, it would all be a bonus. For this reason Manuel Roca does not feel disappointed by the unfortunate circumstance. The only thing he can do now is to try to sort the pain out so he rubbed some special gel on the painful area and took a Glucosamine tablet which should help to keep his joints in good health. Manuel Roca is not superstitious so he does not need to touch wood, steel or any other object to ward off the evil eye. He takes events the way they come without holding someone responsible for that. In his view, there is not an inexplicable force directing human lives events, everything happens in a very earthly way. Manuel Roca’s knee is having troubles because is human and therefore liable to injures.

Brazilian nuts

The static trainer has been one of the best buys for a long time. This morning the wind blew strongly, the trees leaned over farther and farther. In this condition Manuel Roca does not like cycling thus he put his bike on the static trainer and started his training session. For the first 25 minutes of each 30 minutes session, Manuel Roca read a book whilst spinning his legs. In the last 5 minutes Manuel Roca likes pushing his limits so he has to put the book away in order to concentrate on the effort. At around 7.00 Manuel finished his training and after a quick shower he set off for work. In the office he had his rich breakfast consisting of cereals, nuts, banana, kiwi, milk, Ovaltine and a coffee. He cannot think of something better as far as the first meal of the day is concerned. When cereals soak in the milk swell and the bowl gets full. Even the banana absorbs milk and increases in size. All the ingredients together form a thick dough which Manuel Roca spoons to his mouth with great pleasure. He takes his time to eat it because he wants to enjoy the moment as much as he can. There is something magical in having breakfast which is not delivered by any other meal. Possibly, it is the time since he has had the last meal that makes it so pleasurable, or maybe it is the combination of all the ingredients that sublime Manuel Roca’s palate. For example, when he gets a spoonful which includes a Brazilian nut he closes his eyes waiting to bite it. He sucks it for a while, plays a little bit in his mouth like he wants the desire to mount and then finally he munches it. As the nut gets reduced into crumbs Manuel Roca feels a sentiment which is close to happiness.

lightening and thundering

Needless to say that Manuel Roca necessitated some rest after 6 days of heavy training. The preparation of a sport event like the one in Pecol is constituted by time in which the system needs stimulation to gain form and time to recover energy. Without rest the system will not be prepared to accept and absorb other stimuli. Manuel Roca woke up at 7.30; the rain could be heard against the window glass whereas the wind howled through the trees. He slept the sleep of the content warrior. So the day went by, filled with some strong storms that brought lightening and thundering which finally cracked the air. ‘I need to accept absurdity to reach the sublime’ Manuel Roca thought as he observed two cloud fronts collide. The roof of the clouds rose, the sky was torn and a pure blue colour exploded. He contemplated this beauty convinced that it was worthy to be mistreated by such a spectacular event.
Anytime he can, Manuel Roca sets off on his bike at dawn, when everything still sleeps in the surrounding calm. He wants to dodge all kinds of distractions that could slow down his training, when his body and mind are well rested and the concentration is maximal. Sometimes, he feels a bit sleepy and starts seeking the trail of an image that would shake his awareness. Something that would assure him he is not dreaming anymore but would bluntly tell him he is riding his bike on yet deserted roads. As soon as he reaches the woodland, Manuel Roca can hear the birds’ twittering. Sometimes, he is overwhelmed by the nice avifauna singing which instantly settles inside his soul like a blind gaze. Manuel Roca loves it in the same way he feels an aversion to barking dogs which he considers brutal and unpleasant.

Woodland ghosts

Manuel Roca walked down the shopping mall main aisle observing people in search of another useless item to buy. He noticed that most of these shopaholics bore a suffering facial expression like they were going through their hundredth day at a loss. Maybe, he thought, their entire lives are at a loss. He walked on only to lock himself away inside his ‘sacred spatial bubble’ which he has crammed with books, radio, music, writing, hours of sport and delicate nostalgia for the beauty of Nature. In his bubble, Manuel Roca holds conversation with the books’ authors; he feels that what he reads could be more than a means to know and express the real. Sometimes, he thought that words from books described the only reality. He could certainly affirm that an ever increasing solitude constituted the fundamental aspect of his life. He acknowledges that the term solitude occurs many times when he writes. Manuel Roca wanders whether there is a good solitude and a bad solitude. He is convinced the two types exist. The bad solitude can kill. The good one helps to live, in a different manner, but it does. It permits to come across life moments and sensations that only the lonely person can experience; to fill a white paper of writing; to listen to music; to read a great book or walk in woodland accompanied by one’s ghosts. Ultimately, Manuel Roca asks himself, why is solitude considered so fearful? He is the only inhabitant of his own body; outside him the soaking wet fog breath has erased the surroundings. He does not fear to adventure himself in the urbanity of the society. He feels repaired and sheltered behind his very eyes.
Not many days left before Pecol. Manuel Roca is exhausted after days of hard training. Soon he will begin the recovery period; when his body will absorb all the recent heavy training. He is only a dabbler but he is acting the part of a pro. He completely went off the few bad habits he had to focus on the cycling event. Flirting with his bike daily has turned into an exciting custom that he will not barter for anything else in the world. This is the period of the year in which Manuel Roca is very aloof. He does not want to see many people in order not to lose concentration on his prime objective; Pecol. He is not self-important; on the contrary, Manuel Roca is a very modest person. The reason behind his behaviour stems from the passion for his bike and for his love for the physical exercise.

Pinapple

At 4.15 Manuel Roca was in bed and could hear the rain pounding on his bedroom window. He was not surprised since bad weather was forecast the day before and therefore he did not panic because he already had a plan B for the day (Plan A was another 6 hours on the saddle). He set his alarm clock for 6.15 and fell asleep like a toddler. When he got up, he put his bicycle on the turbo trainer and started spinning his legs. He programmed 3 sections of 30 minutes each, in which he gradually increased the intensity. The trainer has a magnet resistance unit which can vary the power output by means of a twist-lever adjustment unit mounted on the handlebar. There are 5 different levels of resistance which Manuel Roca shifted at a time he mindfully set. He did 10 minutes easy followed but other 10 minutes less easy than, he upgraded the effort for 5 minutes at mid-intensity. He concluded each interval by splitting the last 5 minutes in two sections; hard and very hard. The last 2 minutes and a half were tough as sweat poured out at every pore, legs burnt and the breathing struggled to obtain the needed oxygen. Manuel Roca had to focus hard on the effort; he looked at the sweat drops falling from his arms or forehead. He eyed them as they bounced on the bicycle frame and split in hundreds of little drops. He immersed in his effort only to emerge back to the earth surface after a pair of minutes of stark detachment from the planet occurrences. Done 1 hour and a half on the turbo trainer, Manuel Roca wore his trainers and off he went for an hour running along the River Maco. He simply wanted to live and suddenly he did feel a stinging nostalgia for his own life. He suddenly thought he had accumulated some delay on his own existence and by instinct he upped his running pace. Artists, philosophers or technology will never help Manuel Roca to catch up with his recent-discovered lateness; nobody but him can contribute to cancel it. As he overtook the turning point he began desiring to defy time, its mystery, the ticking hours, the flying days, the burden of the years. Faster and faster Manuel Roca run on his way back whereas his mind got to calculate that his delay was approximately of 6 years; circa 2190 days. He was not able to explain to himself how he worked it out but, he intuited that it was 6 years, minimum. As he nearly got back home, a grim thought peeped out; if he was late over his life, he was consequently early on his death. He shivered as he put his cycling gear on and off he went on his bike. Cars were queuing to park by the big shop centre in town. People he never took seriously. Manuel Roca thought he could gain some time back on his delay if he started getting up half an hour earlier each morning during autumn and winter and increased that to 1 hour in spring and summer. He figured out that he could roughly retrieve one month of his life each year. At the age of 109 Manuel Roca will have zeroed his delay on his own life. After 2 hours cycling he was back home. He devoured half pineapple, a yogurt with some cereals and off he went to bed to recover some energy. When he woke up his eyes would hardly stay open. The prime impulse was to go back to bed but Manuel Roca is an obstinate person and wanted to spend some time writing. He cannot be considered other but a doer, certainly not a couch potato that he profoundly disdains. Another page of his life approaching Pecol he wrote off, a little sin that he will read over and over again in the years to come. He was starting to feel hungry and thus opened the fridge and got the remaining half of the pineapple. It was ripe, sweet and juicy and same as above Manuel Roca devoured it. He loved squeezing a mouthful of it in his mouth and enjoyed the drop the juice did down his stomach. He followed it with his mind, he concentrated on its consistency, and he wandered about the real benefit of this vitamins-rich fruit. He stopped thinking only to jump again on his turbo trainer for another hour. He copied what he did in the morning to fulfil the plan B.

Tomatoes and mozzarella

This morning, another 6 hours ride has been added to Manuel Roca’s collection. Frank Lagache and Penkish escorted him in his umpteenth drill. Pecol is now around the corner and Manuel Roca starts feeling that his condition is really peaking. This year, he has been taking the race build-up really seriously. No eating shit food, going to bed very early and training hard are some of the things Manuel Roca is undergoing to do better than he did last year in the same sport event. He knows his condition is way better then it was this time last year. For him training for cycling is a combination of science and art and since he does not have any facilities to consider the former, he has to focus all his attention on the latter. By and large, Manuel Roca loves thinking of his training as a form of art. Riding his bike brings overall harmony to his body; he is hooked on seeing everything occurring in and around him in balance. It is like writing which he deems as a therapeutic activity. Harmony and balance are part of Manuel Roca’s mantra. Focusing on the way he pedals, matching his pedalling to his breathing. Being in tune with his body; monitoring it both on and off the bike and managing pain. All of it makes Manuel Roca feel good, and teaches him patience. At the moment, he is seeing his legs changing shape. He notices muscles and veins coming out the lean layer of skin. They are like sculptures that are being worked on. Manuel Roca attributes this view of his training on his being an unmatchable romantic. He comes across as a conscientious person who loves talking philosophy and sport. When it comes to these two subjects Manuel Roca seems to prefer the direct route. He matches philosophy to cycling in the same way tomatoes match mozzarella. A massive boost of self-confidence go through his mind as he strains every fibre to get his bicycle over a summit as quick as possible thinking of Nietzsche’s superman. His legs are ready to explode; he handles the speed and big gears better. He goes out of the saddle observing his legs pumping up and down and pushing power down into the pedals. He believes he can go deeper than he thinks; he just has to focus and have self-belief. Digging deep, focusing and managing the pain in the same way Schopenhauer endeavoured on an impossible thought. He never goes on power or heart rate; too sophisticated. He rides hard on a climb, then put in a burst and recovers quickly. He thinks, meditates, concentrates, as quickly as he wants his legs spin. His legs feel blocked if he pushes a big gear; they only work when they spin fast. As he gets older and progresses he goes more and more against any sort of trend. He remains approachable but behaves very reservedly.
Manuel Roca is heavily into decorating shadows and ghosts so that these appear less fearsome. He spends time writing as it does not consider this activity the only sin against Nature; he hides to develop his passion, alone, just to show the final fruit to himself only. Somehow, he is convinced to contribute to the faculty of the uselessness; and a lot of loneliness.

Pitch-black

In the first day of the new week on the bike, Manuel Roca worked on his legs strengthening for about three hours. The method he follows to build up power is to push a long gear either on hills or on the flat. By doing so, he can feel his legs muscles endeavouring to keep the bike moving. This kind of work out does not require a big use of oxygen; in fact, Manuel Roca never gets out of breath. The only focus goes to those muscle bundles that serve to push the pedals up and down.
After this work out section on the bike, as every morning, Manuel Roca went to work. There, he likes showing different personalities depending on the diverse occasions that create. He considers this way of acting as a sort of game where he can change the role he plays as he was a movie actor. There are days in which he shows all his diffidence which is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the truest of all his features. Manuel Roca really lacks confidence in other people. Trusting only himself is one of his peculiarities; he does not want to confess this trait of his too openly since he knows that he cannot be fully understood. All his studying, reading, meditating on his bicycle has transformed him in an uncommon and unique person. Sometimes, he pretends to join his colleagues in conversations so that he can play a different role but, in all honesty, that is pure acting. He can feel that most of the time people see him as being a strange person because he dodges most of the talking taking place in the office. This aspect of his office life does not alter his mood. Manuel Roca sits down, switches his computer on; his thoughts became more and more illogical and circular. He imagines the sun casting down the Bettola Mount as nothing is really occurring. The shadow of the mountains lengthens above his day-dreaming until it all turns pitch-black. He is ready for the day with his casual acquaintances.

Philippe Petit

It is a duel between Manuel Roca and the time spent on the road on his bike. He left home at 5 o’clock this morning; the sky was overcast and some patchy rain kept him company during the first hour. He was on his own and had not planned to meet anyone for the entire length of his training. Manuel Roca headed south where he came to ride on roads which often climb up some ‘gentle’ hills. He needed some hard work out sections to give his body the right stimulus in view of Pecol. Whilst climbing, Manuel Roca had the impression that his legs were in good shape. At almost all time, he pushed a hard gear permitting him to rise to the summit of each climb as fast as he wished. Every now and then the clouds opened up allowing a pale sun to peep through. Manuel Roca forgot his sunglasses and kept hoping that the clouds would shut up the blue spaces. The fickle weather did not hinder his ‘gallop’ amid a breathtaking country-side. He prudentially sipped water from his bottles because he knew there was no way to refill them. Three bottles had to last for the whole time on the saddle. Unlike Italy, where there is at least one fount for each village, in the Mato Rujo area there are not public fountains where cyclists can drink water from. Manuel Roca thinks that this is an enormous default for a country which is worldwide considered modern and civilised. For that reason, he slipped an extra bottle in his back pocket jersey in addition to the two bottles that he normally carries in the two bottle-cages which are on the bicycle frame. With still two hours remaining to do, Manuel Roca ran into his old friend Diana Lombard who was struggling up a slope on her flashy bicycle. He stayed with her for 5 minutes and then off he went to conclude his long-lasting battle with the time. He got into his apartment at 15 minutes past 11. He did not feel exhausted as he could imagine after having spent more than 6 hours on the bike. Rather, he felt good; he had some cereals with milk and fruit to recover and went to lie down in bed. After a few pages of the book he is reading at the moment, he dozed off for half an hour.
Manuel Roca attended University in Mato Rujo. There, he engaged in the study of Nietzsche. Now, he wonders whether the genial philosopher could explain his way of thinking; bring to light the source of it. As fast as night falls upon Mato Rujo, a mixed sense of tiredness and nostalgia turned up in his mind unexpectedly. In a predictable way, last night Manuel Rujo had a dream based on the episode he lived the day before when he was about to fall down. In the oneiric deformation, his bike was riding over a cable which ran across two mountain tops. Underneath the suspended cable hundreds of meters of emptiness that would not permit Manuel Roca any error. Like the famous French high wire artist Philippe Petit that in 1974 high-wire walked between the Twin Towers in New York’s World Trade Centre, Manuel Roca rode the wire back and forth. He spoke to an eagle whose head resembled his friend Frank Lagache who was beside him when Manuel Roca nearly came down. He woke up with a start, in apnoea, soaked wet in his own sweat but relieved to gather that underneath there was not the void but a comfortable bed.

Rio Pequeño

This morning Manuel Roca broke the 200 Km wall riding his bicycle. He left home at 5 minutes past 5 heading for Frank Lagache's where they had agreed to meet up at 6 o'clock. On the way to the appointment, Manuel Roca tested his legs on the Barristerio climb. He thought it was a good idea to wake his system up by means of this steep rise that would force his heart to energetically pump blood throughout it. In fact, the vital fluid throbbed in his veins which expanded to carry the oxygen needed to cope with the burst endeavour. Like muscled pistons his legs pushed the pedals to win over the nasty slope and the gravitational force. As he reached the Barristerio summit, Manuel Roca looked around to admire the lush green country-side before dashing down the other side of the rise; he felt ready for a long and hard day on the saddle. Frank Lagache lives in a small village situated 10 Km east of Mato Rujo. This is called Rio Pequeño after a small stream flowing across the churchyard. The atypical and ‘suffocating’ heat wave which is currently oppressing the region was the first topic engaging the two friends as they aimed for the bumpy part of the county. They cannot afford to dodge some hard training since Pecol looms up ahead of them; coming closer and closer. Keeping a high pace is one way to build stamina and make sure the body receives helpful stimulus that will be beneficial during the race. For that reason, Manuel Roca and Frank Lagache maintain a fast speed from the very start. After a couple of hours, an abrupt rise of the temperature led to drink up more and more water resulting in a very swift consumption of the two bottles Manuel Roca was carrying with him. However, he plans to get a refill at Penkish’s that is waiting for them at 8.30. As they made their way towards Mato Rujo, where Penkish lives, Manuel Roca was faced with a nearly fall whilst descending a narrow and uneven stretch of road. As he rode into a deep pothole his hands lost the hold of the handlebar. For an endless split second Manuel Roca did not have control of his bicycle and at once grew certain to slump on the asphalt. But luckily, as his hands moved loosely forward, he managed to clasp the handlebar tightly by means of his wrists. Somehow, he retrieved command of his ‘vessel’ and contemporaneously a sense of relief went down his spine. Penkish was waiting on the doorstep of his 2 floors house, patiently. He wore a sleeveless top that showed his lean arms up to the shoulders. When he was at hearing-distance Manuel Roca shouted ‘am thirsty, am thirsty’, using a tone of voice resembling a person who had just made a journey across the desert without a drop of water to drink. Penkish broke out laughing and disappeared inside the house with Manuel Roca’s bottles. The three decided to go northwards where the roads are as flat as a pancake and go across barley-cultivated fields. The temperature rose higher and humidity became unbearable. Countless insects filled the air crashing like kamikaze on the sweaty faces of the three riders. Off in the distance was a cathedral that passed by completely unnoticed. Despite these uneasy circumstances, Manuel Roca was feeling stronger and stronger. He had been on the saddle for 6 and a half hours but this did not impede him to launch a long sprint as they approached the last rise of the day. He easily outran his friends that could not cope with the powerful run to the virtual finish line. Manuel Roca got home when midday had already gone by 10 minutes. He checked his speedometer to find out that he had just made longest ride of 2009 to date.
As sharp as a bite, the image of him falling off his bike haunted Manuel Roca during the whole day. Usually his mind is not investigative but in this occasion, footage of what was about to occur this morning shown up in his brain. From tomorrow, his attention during his rides will be double.

Supermercato

Terzo giorno di carico e domani Manuel Roca deve far riposare le gambe a tutti i costi. Sull'ultima salita dell'ultima ripetuta ha fatto fatica ed era contento di andare a casa. Segue nel suo programma verso Pecol, spedito, sicuro e confidente. Un confronto con gli allenamenti dell'anno scorso mostra quanti Km in piu' stia facendo quest'anno Manuel Roca. Vuole davvero migliorare la prestazione dello scorso anno. Ci saranno sicuramente da tenere in considerazione le condizioni metereologiche ma, a parte questo, Manuel Roca e' sicuro del miglioramento.

In fin dei conti, Manuel Roca e' sempre stata una persona priva di spirito competitivo; la competizione non ha quasi mai condizionato le sue scelte. Quando correva da giovane, aveva preso la competizione come un gioco di societa', stare con amici e compagni di squadra. Li aveva capito alcuni concetti come il desiderio di supremazia, la voglia di affermazione, l'umiliazione del piu' debole. Malgrado questo non ha mai smesso di confrontarsi con gli altri, di giocare. Giocare in solitario accanto agli altri, con regole e tempi possibilmente suoi. Troppo comodo? Non sempre, anzi, mai. Da qui l'idea di Pecol, il confrontarsi con gl'altri ma solo per gioco, senza prendersi troppo sul serio. Il desiderio di mettere alla prova i propri limiti, desideri, motivazioni, e cosi via. Manuel Roca era gia' partito con il pensiero. L'occasione. La magnifica occasione. D'altronde, appena comincia a pedalare ritrova il buon umore Manuel Roca. Pedala lungo le strade, alle volte deserte, della regione di Mato Rujo respirando a pieni polmoni il vento che spesso spazza queste terre. Rimane incantato della sinfonia di colori che ogni giorni gli riempie la vista. Ha scelto una forma di vita diversa, piu' libera, piu' meditativa. Piu' in sintonia con la natura. Considera la vita come fosse sempre un grande supermercato dove prendi dieci e paghi tre. O meglio, va gia' bene se riesce a prendere due. Il filosofo che c'e' in lui prende forma. Manuel Roca vive bene del due e considera i restanti otto una mera e inutile illusione, frutto di una miopia generalizzatta e di una impotenza degli individui.

Scrittura

Sono state le tre ore in bici piu' dure sulla strada per Pecol quelle che Manuel Roca ha fatto stamattina. E' uscito di casa appena prima le 5 e mezza ed e' tornato attorno le 8 e mezza. Ripetute in salita e ripetute in pianura e nel mezzo una bella andatura. Le gambe son due pezzi di dolore che si fan sentire ad ogni movimento. Il piano di Manuel Roca e' quello di caricare in questi giorni per avere i benefici di questo lavoro tra tre settimane quando Pecol scorrera' sotto le sue ruote. Anche il peso sta pian piano scendendo anche se sembrano ancora lontani i tempi in cui Manuel Roca si vestiva di scheletro ed in montagna ci saliva senza il minimo sforzo. Crede di scendere ancora un Kg ma forse non piu' di quello.

Il ronzare del silenzio, ali senza piume nelle prime ore dell'alba. Adesso, mentre pensa Manuel Roca a questo ronzio, pensa che forse in quelle ore intuisce il viaggio come una scrittura intravista e differita. Il vero viaggio per lui. Capisce che questa solitudine consapevole, sicura di se', la solitudine accettata, sia gia scrittura; non ancora tradotta dal silenzio ma gia struttura presente. Ha viaggiato. Ha viaggiato molto Manuel Roca. L'atto di scrivere, di trascivere la scrittura d'altri, l'appropiarsi delle parole altrui. Pensa Manuel Roca che la lingua di Mato Rujo sia per lui una densa penombra ancora da decifrare. Eppure vive li da molto tempo. In un paese depresso, si trova a volte isolato in mezzo agli altri. Solo sente la Natura stringersi attorno a lui, farsi corpo al suo fianco.