Exodia, the "Forbidden" Boulder

Outdoor
17/11/2025
0 comments

17/11/2025
Outdoor
0 comments

Exodia, the most powerful of the Gods.

The one who defeated a hundred armies in a single night.

The one who had to be divided into five parts in order to be contained.

Environmental conditions. Beta. Physical preparation. Gear. Mental presence.

Any project, at any grade, requires these five elements to be in constant balance with each other. Obviously, the closer you get to the human limit, the more unstable that balance becomes. The further you push it, the more you have to chase perfection.

So let’s start dissecting the Exodia monster

Part I. Environmental conditions

“We had the kind of conditions you get once a year.” (Elias Iagnemma, private communication, after the ascent).

Exodia is a boulder in Piedmont, on the road leading to Rifugio Barbara, a magical place. Thanks to the work of several climbers including Christian Core (World Champion in 2003), Barbara has become very well known and includes among its problems some milestones of Italian bouldering, such as Chimera (8C). During his explorations, Christian noticed this roadside roof, sensed that it might be possible, but soon abandoned the “project”. Over time, various climbers picked up this challenge–baton, but no one managed to solve the absurd puzzle. In 2021, Elias Iagnemma got curious and dragged his pads beneath this imposing roof. One session, two, three, ten, a hundred… two hundred sessions later Elias sets off, and four years have passed. The flow is perfect, he gets to the top, the last hold is there waiting for him. But the conditions are too dry: the rubber doesn’t have enough grip, and Elias has to settle for contact with the ground.

To really understand how much environmental conditions affect a boulder problem of this level, you have to understand the very concept of “conditions”: the set of all meteorological factors (including temperature, wind, humidity) whose interpretation makes a specific moment perfect for trying that particular line, allowing the climber to optimise grip on the rock. In most cases, conditions refer mainly to the upper body, but on Exodia the mix also has to be balanced with the grip of the rubber. Without optimal friction from shoes and kneepads, the physical effort becomes unreachable. However, finding the ideal conditions is not always easy. The rock that hosts what is (for now) the hardest boulder in the world is serpentine. Serpentine, or more precisely serpentinite, is formed through a geological process called serpentinisation, which is a low-temperature hydrothermal metamorphism of ultramafic rocks (very rich in magnesium and iron and low in silica). During this process, water reacts with the primary minerals (olivine and pyroxenes), converting them into serpentine minerals, often with an increase in volume that can create fractures in the surrounding rock. Many of the holds that make up Exodia are in fact born from cracks, unlike what happens, for example, on limestone, where holds are pockets or sedimentary features. The peculiarity of serpentinite lies in its grip, which is practically non-existent. In very dry conditions, holds tend to “glass over”, becoming particularly difficult to hold.

Part II. Gear

On Exodia, technical gear is not a bonus that makes things easier – it is necessary.

“The kneepads were deforming in just the right way. In the moves with the double heel hook, I could feel the heel rubber deform exactly where it needed to. Everything was flowing and it was perfect.” (Elias Iagnemma, private communication, after the ascent).

With the first routes beyond 9b freed in Flatanger by Adam Ondra, the climbing world came face to face with a concept that many still struggle to accept: the knee pad. Many routes freed in earlier eras (like Lapsus in Andonno) were climbed without the use of a kneepad, a tool that improves a climber’s ability to slot in the knee, with less pain and clearly increased friction. From there arises an important ethical dilemma: is the kneepad legit? And again, if I climb a route with a kneepad that was first done without one, is the grade the same? This is not the place to unpack all the answers to these delicate questions, but it’s worth noting that Exodia was climbed with two kneepads. But back to Flatanger… many of the routes there would be practically impossible without the use of a knee pad.

We’re talking about “use”, not “assistance”: why? Simple.

The kneepad has become part of the modern climber’s kit and, on routes like Silence or boulders like Exodia, every detail makes a difference. The kneepad is what stands out the most, but technological progress also shows up in climbing shoes and chalk, for example.

Let’s get specific…

To be able to slot in after the first boulder (around 8B/+), Elias wedges in both legs and takes a very uncomfortable bat rest. The rest has to be at least about forty seconds to be useful, but under fifty to allow the climber to have fresh legs for the section with the double heel hook. In this no hand rest, the most advanced research in climbing gear all comes together: kneepads, climbing shoes, chalk, skin hydration. Once the rest is done – which would be impossible without kneepads – the second section starts, around 8C/+. This second part is defined by a blind heel hook on a tiny “ramp” just over a centimetre deep, placed at an unfavourable angle. From there, you turn the hands and go into a double heel hook on a slopey edge: here the climbing shoe becomes crucial. So crucial that it requires such structural stress on the heel that even the toughest shoes deform over the course of very few sessions.

In short, here’s the question: without these modifications to the shoes, without the chalk best suited to that rock and without kneepads… would it have been possible to climb Exodia in 2025?

Is climbing the only discipline that gets tangled up in sensitive issues when it comes to performances tied to specific technical equipment? Here’s a bold comparison!

If we like running and want to go for an easy jog in the park, a bit of good will is all we need to get home happy. But if we want to run a marathon in under two hours, everything has to be perfect: from physical condition to specific gear to the handover of the water bottle. The time by marathon runner Eliud Kipchoge is in fact not considered an official record for many reasons, among which the detail that the water was handed to him and not taken from a table. On top of that, before the attempt, a perfectly flat course was designed, with favourable weather conditions and support cars. Throughout the event there were rotating pacers cutting the wind, providing Kipchoge with the slipstream he needed to keep running without having to punch a hole in the air himself. The very shoes Eliud used were at the centre of many debates: they were prototypes not available on the market, making extensive use of components designed specifically to return energy with every step. To many of the criticisms, the Kenyan replied: “The shoes don’t run by themselves. They help you, but you still need to be ready mentally and physically.” Even in that case, the monster had to be divided into several parts to be contained. And yet running is something banal. The official record is thirty-five seconds slower than two hours, while this entire puzzle constructed to crush the time set in Chicago by Kelvin Kiptum is just under two hours: a difference of under sixty seconds. The closer you get to the limit, the more gaining even the smallest advantage requires an inhuman effort. To write history, feeling fit is not enough. You have to chase perfection. And yet going for a jog is something banal.

Part III. Beta

“For me boulders have to be sit, I like them more because you climb the whole boulder from the ground. The obvious start seemed to be from the undercling, but then I realised maybe you could start lower. This year I added those few more moves – now the line is really complete.” (Elias Iagnemma, private communication).

Over two hundred sessions, the beta becomes automatic, it drops into muscle memory and the climber almost looks like they’re not even trying as they move around on the bloc. For those who come after, a huge amount of work has already been done. Watching the video, you can pick up the secrets of the hardest sections and focus on finding some trick that makes the beta better suited to the repeater’s abilities and body size. But finding the way to climb a problem for the very first time? That’s a challenge within the challenge. First of all, trying an unclimbed boulder puts you in front of a question: can it actually be climbed?

So you clean, prepare, dedicate time… and then maybe a slightly chipped hold turns the problem from extremely hard into impossible. And just like that, all that work is gone.

So you look for another project. Generally, on a hard boulder, you work the single moves and, once you’ve unlocked them all, you know the monster can be climbed. Then you start trying sections and build it up. If a top climber (in 2025) moves comfortably around 8B/+, getting to 8C/+ is already a lot spicier. And if you have to do them back-to-back, things get even more intense. And if, as in the case of Exodia, the hard part is the second half… it hardly needs commenting.

Elias’s work on the beta focused not only on understanding whether a move was possible, but above all on finding the most economical method to execute each individual move. This is normally standard practice, but this time the level of refinement pushed beyond the threshold of obsession. For example, a few degrees more or less in wrist angle still allow you to do the entry move, but compromise the success of the entire length. To explain the core concept behind Exodia’s beta, we can draw on Shaolin philosophy. The idea of perfection in Shaolin philosophy is deeply rooted in Chan (Zen) Buddhism and is not seen as an absolute end point, but as a continuous process of improvement, harmony and integration between body, mind and spirit. At this moment, the ascent of Exodia represents the peak of perfection in Elias’s vertical career.

Part IV. Physical preparation

“On the first go I fell going to the pinch. Normally, when I fall there, I feel tired. I can feel the muscle fatigue. On that go, no – I fell and said to myself… okay, I’m not even tired.” (Elias Iagnemma, private communication, after the ascent).

The concept of physical form is extremely hard to master. Practically every top climber goes through different phases in their career, which always start with training a lot. Then the concept of training gets internalised and, thanks to greater awareness, begins to change. The best training is no longer the one that destroys you, but the one that allows your body to reach the limit without ever breaking.

It becomes crucial to learn to listen to your sensations, understanding when it’s time to let go and move into rest. On Exodia, this was partly the key for Elias, to the point of almost forcing him to move through life with the handbrake slightly on. Every climb, every session with friends, every workout was both fun and a threat. For Exodia, Elias had to find a perfect balance between weight, rest and training. The body of a high-level athlete is like the engine of a race car: capable of incredible performances, but also incredibly fragile. When you’re at the top, that’s when you’re at greatest risk. More specifically, on Exodia, routine was key: after 4:20 p.m., Elias knows he hits his peak of biological activation – the ideal moment. Everything was built around this detail, from nutrition, to at least forty minutes of timed rest, to the time for the first real go.

Pushing this close to the limit, a single attempt is extremely taxing; you need a lot of recovery. Spending so much time resting means you can only do very few real attempts in a single session – two or three at most. Stepping back and looking at the bigger picture, you can clearly see how hard it is to make physical form line up with environmental conditions, all while knowing you only have two or three “bullets” to fire in a session. This is what we call mental presence.

Part V. Mental presence

“The only thing I’d like to ask you guys for, if I can, is silence when I’m climbing. Cheering me on distracts me, silence walks me into the zone.” (Elias Iagnemma, personal communication, before an attempt).

“The scream I let out there wasn’t from effort. It was to tell myself that I was really good, better than ever before.” (Elias Iagnemma, personal communication, after an almost perfect attempt).

Let’s imagine the most natural thing in the world: falling in love. If we think we’ve found our person and they reject us, how long can we keep working on ourselves to win them over? How many “no” can we endure? Can we really keep trying for more than four years to win this person over, or do we give up earlier? (In some cases, four years of pursuing someone might even count as a crime!).

The ascent of Exodia starts right from this idea of falling in love: a complete line, rich in beautiful aspects and flaws that make it irresistible. The colours are hypnotic, its holds look like they were carved by Canova, while its conditions are the children of the devil. A lethal mix that leads first to madness and then, maybe, to ultimate pleasure. If on one side there is this visceral love for the line, on the other, discipline is the key to success. Once again, Shaolin philosophy comes to our aid: the perfect term is Jianchi. Within the idea of Jianchi lie perseverance, constant commitment, tenacity and consistency. If technical skill (Gong) can be learned, it is Jianchi that makes it last and turns it into true mastery. Arriving in the sun, waiting for the shade, warming up on the fingerboard. Repeating all the single moves. Caring for every tiny crack in the skin. Chalk. Pads always placed in the same spot. Switching trousers from long to short, the cold on the skin. Kneepad, first on the right and then on the left. Tightening it obsessively to the exact point: too tight cuts off optimal blood flow, too loose doesn’t create the right friction. Silence. One breath, two. Left hand, right hand, right foot on, left foot pressed. Go.

For many, the word routine has a negative connotation, associated with laziness. In high-level sport, routines are essential elements to optimise performance, acting as a bridge between physical preparation and the ideal mental state. They ensure you don’t forget anything, arriving prepared in terms of gear and, of course, safety. Routines also make it easier to enter the zone: many say competitions start the night before, when you prepare your gear for the next day. Four years and two hundred sessions are something you can only face with an extraordinary level of mental presence. Knowing you have two (at most three) good attempts available, knowing you have to line them up with your peak of biological activation, knowing you have to mix everything with the right weather window, knowing that a tiny detail can wipe out an excellent attempt. The puzzle is complex, the road to perfection long and treacherous.

The ascent: the summoning

Two hundred and eleven sessions. The eleventh day of the eleventh month. If you add the first two ones of the date, you get two – eleven, two hundred and eleven. The number eleven has many meanings: 11 is considered a master number in numerology because it is the first in the decade after ten, symbolising a new phase. It is linked to strong intuition, spirituality and inner growth, representing a kind of “super-consciousness”. It symbolises great open-mindedness and the ability to have an overall vision and grasp ideas that go beyond ordinary understanding, and is often associated with spiritual guides, “angel numbers” and wisdom, representing a bridge between earthly reality and the spiritual world. In the Tarot, eleven corresponds to the card of “Strength”, which signifies courage, determination and inner control. But enough with words. In the end, in feats like this, words mean nothing. Verba volant, Exodia manent.