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Thursday, January 26, 2012

Fine, Fine. I'll Explain.

This story actually goes back quite a ways. But this is me and I can't tell a short story and it's my explanation, so here goes.

1997 (I told you this goes back quite a ways.)
I was living in Japan, teaching English. I was alternatingly thrilled to be living this "exotic" life overseas that I'd dreamed of nearly my whole life vs. completely astounded at how mundane and annoying some of my not-so-exotic life was. I learned a lot, was exposed to so many things I never would have seen or learned in the US, and at the same time, was really annoyed and frustrated with some of the day-to-day things I had to put up with. At times, I felt extremely isolated as I had gone there alone and knew no one there. I developed some friendships with a few other foreigners which at times was great and at other times was a challenge. As an avid reader, I craved anything I could get my hands on that I could read, because my Japanese...well, didn't exist.

I don't remember where I found it, but I ended up with a magazine that had an article in it about a climb up Kilamanjaro. For those of you unfamiliar, this is the highest peak in all of Africa. Now, when I say "climb," I use the term because nobody says "I walked up an 18,000 foot mountain." Because 18,000 feel of elevation is hard and saying you "walked" it is like saying someone who swam the English Channel "floated" across. It is (I have read) the highest "walkable" summit in the world--but even the article I read talked about how some of that walk was like steep sand dunes that you scramble on all fours and for every three feet you climb, you slide back two.

Despite my (sometimes) disillusionment with how "romantic" and "adventurous" living overseas was, climbing Kilamanjaro suddenly sounded very exciting to me--that same sense of romantic adventure (and I don't mean "love" romantic, but "wonderful" romantic). So I put it on a "to-do" list. Now the popular term is "bucket list," but I hadn't heard that back then.

Last week
We were having dinner with friends. The Moroccan casually mentions that he and some friends of his are planning to climb Kilamanjaro.

I about fell out of my chair. Not because I was excited about this. But because it was the first I'd heard about it.

"Are you serious?!" I asked.

I must have sounded totally incredulous because he looked at me with concern (it may have been "please-don't-tell-me-you're-going-to-object-to-this-concern") and said, very cautiously, "Uh, yes. But we haven't quite worked out the details and stuff."

Tangent: I'm so used to "not having the details worked out and stuff" that truly, this would not alleviate concerns I might have had. End tangent.

"I want to go. I really want to go. Will you train me to go?"

I think this was the point where he about fell out of his chair.

And with every right, because 1) I'm not in shape, 2) My exercise schedule has been pathetic (more on this later), 3) I have never, ever expressed any interest in mountain climbing before, and 4) I had just asked him for help.

It was then his turn to ask if I was serious.

The rest of the conversation was not all that interesting as we established that yes, I was serious, and yes, I had a lot of work ahead of me and then we got on to other topics.

A few nights ago, he asked me again if I was serious. He started laying out some things we'd have to do and some other (more local) mountains I would have to climb in preparation to see if it is something I could do at all.

Since we're now talking about it seriously, I have to take serious steps to get ready. I have been having problems scheduling triathlons due to my judging schedule and not knowing when we're going to visit the relatives this summer and it has become very clear to me that if I don't have a very specific training focus...I don't have anything to work towards and have problems doing it.

Also, this is no "little" goal. Sometimes I am a total minimalist with things--my first triathlon did get me moving again, which was huge. I toyed with the idea of building up to larger distances than sprint, but I hate running so completely much that I didn't want to do much more than a sprint triathlon. My attitude towards triathlons also was not to be competitive (that would be delusional), but to do them. And I've done that.

Don't get me wrong. I still want to do more and as soon as we figure out our schedules, I'll be trying to see which one(s) I can do/afford, and I will be there, because the specific focus will still help me. Plus I'd like to get over whatever my issue is with swimming in open water.

But I need a bigger motivator to move me forward. Something that I want to do, that has meaning for me, and is achievable. (So, for example, Mt. Everest is a non-goal, probably ever. That level of danger has no appeal to me.)

My big concern with Kilamanjaro (aside the whole fitness level bit) is altitude. I've had altitude sickness before. It was minor, but it still kicked my butt. And I wasn't all that high up. I know you can acclimate (which I didn't do before), so I'm hoping we'll have a chance to do that.

When got altitude sickness before, I was going up Toubkal with The Moroccan. We'd gone from sea level to 1500 feet one day, then from 1500 feet to 7700 feet in 7 hours. This was when I started showing symptoms. Minor, like shortness of breath, which was holding us up from getting to the refuge. So they threw me on a mule and we kept going. You know, because the best thing to do for someone exhibiting signs of altitude sickness is to take them higher. By time we stopped at 10,500 feet, I was nauseated and not thinking clearly. One example? When I was on the mule, I had to make clicking noises out the side of my mouth to keep the stubborn animal moving. When I got off the mule, I walked around for about five minutes, continuing to make the clicking noises until I realized I didn't need to any more.

The Moroccan only noticed just how ill I was when I refused to eat dinner. I didn't think I could hold anything down, and even if I could, I wasn't sure I could make it up or down the stairs in the refuge again because I felt so wobbly.

I felt much better in the morning, but again, this was only 10,500 feet.

Kilamanjaro is over 18,000 feet.

So 1) I have to get into shape. And 2) I guess I'm going to have to deal with the altitude when we get there.

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