As I pack I look at snowy, grim pictures of the Everest base camp trek in deep winter and read about the unforgiving -25 degree nights. I remember the cold and the lack of oxygen at that altitude on Kilimanjaro. I meditate to calm myself. We decide to rent the expedition sleeping bags and down coats because, honestly, in that place and in that weather you want the best down that money can buy and my gear doesn’t qualify.
So, after months of indecision, I finally buy bigger hiking boots to accommodate thicker wool socks. I am nervous to leave my well-seasoned boots at home but I don’t want to sacrifice even the smallest increase in warmth. It’s late in the day to break in new boots but I will only take them off to shower and for bed and bed isn’t a given.
Have I trained enough? I think so but my recent eating orgy has resulted in my trusty hiking pants working harder than they were ever intended to house my reubenesque glory. S!#t! What was I thinking when I gorged myself on Kathy’s most awesome fudge and that box of discounted Halloween chocolate two weeks before I leave? I meditate again.
A friend said, “You must be in kick-ass shape” hmmm…not so much. I would be in better shape if I had just a wee bit more time to train and didn’t have an abiding love for all things edible. As my dear sister says, we have bodies that want to be round. Hopefully mental grit will take over if the roundish body fails.
I am deeply excited for the adventure. Except for the cold – I’m not excited for the cold. It’s part of the experience, just not the enjoyable part. A week and a half to go and counting. I will keep you posted.