“So you climb mountains often then?”
“Ah…nope. Never have climbed a whole, entire mountain.”
“Oh. Okay…”
This is how a conversation went at the gym the other day when I was telling someone about my upcoming expedition to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, or Kili, as they call her. Have I hiked before? Yes. Has it been recently? Ummm…no. So why am I doing this again?
The last year or so has been a list of many firsts for me, some of which were mentioned in my last post, Say What, Say Yes. So, why not add climbing a big, ginormous mountain in Tanzania, Africa to this list…right? Wait. There are plenty of reasons why one shouldn’t just do that, and typically I’m pretty darn good and diligent at following the rules of ‘should’. But then, I guess there are always exceptions to rules.
For those who know me, the reaction has been one of shock. And awe. And kind of that, ‘wait, whaaaaaat?’ response. And I totally get it, because I had the same exact response myself when making the decision to do this. After the, ‘wait, whaaaaat,’ response, then I typically get a bit of a stammering next, ‘Well wait, I don’t…how did you…why…I just…hmph.’
And I get that too. Because really, I’ve struggled to put words around the how, why, what in the world – type questions.
Let me say this, I don’t think of myself as a very adventurous person. I don’t think of myself as someone who likes to live on the edge, testing boundaries and heights. In fact, I’m a first born. I like control. I like to know the plan and exactly what happens next. When I don’t, anxiety fills me. So I make back up plans. I like specific directions on how to do things. I don’t like to mess up. I expect perfection of myself and don’t like making mistakes. Overall, I tend to play it a bit safe at life.
Jumping out of planes? Nope.
Color in the lines? Yes.
Zip lining? Never have been.
Ensure everyone has written directions on how to care for my child when I’m traveling? Of course.
Scuba Diving? Hell. No. I don’t even like getting my face wet – and it has nothing to do with vanity and everything to do with this scary feeling of claustrophobia, when submerged in water.
Make the bed every darn day? Yes. Absolutely. I can’t even get in an unmade bed. Just. Can’t. Even. Almost makes me shake, just thinking of it. So disorderly!
And don’t even think about asking me to go on a roller coaster. Uh uh. Not going to do it.
But trek the largest free standing mountain in the world, seven months from now? Sure.
I know. This makes no freaking sense, whatsoever.
There were many events in my life leading up to the moment in which I made this choice to climb Kili, and I’ll cover some of those in future posts. But here’s how this specific adventure came to be.
On March 18th, I was at home, doing work around the house. CNN was on in the background. I wasn’t even really watching it, except at one point a story caught my eye. Brooke Baldwin, one of their anchors, was sharing a story about her climb to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro. For some reason, the story immediately captured my attention. I stopped what I was doing and walked over to the couch, sat down, and watched the four minute, thirty four second segment of her expedition.
I can’t quite explain it. And perhaps you don’t believe in this sort of thing, where you feel fate, kismet, God, walk through your door, into your mind and tell you you were meant to do something. But that day, in mid March? It happened. To me. Without question.
I hit the rewind button on my DVR after the segment was over and watched it again.
I was supposed to do this. I knew it. With every fiber of my being. I. Knew. It. Of course, I also felt a bit of this, ‘wait, what???’ feeling. But unlike instances in the past, that voice was quieted. Quickly. And I just knew.
I began to Google expeditions to Kili. I spent minutes upon minutes reading and searching and pricing it out. And then I paused. What if this is all just silly talk in my head. What if it just seems like a cool experience and in my excitement I’m over estimating myself and my ability?
Later that same night, after watching the video on CNN, I mentioned this idea to a good friend of mine. She is the kind of friend who is endlessly supportive, but also calls you on your extreme thinking, if she’s truly worried or concerned. I knew I could trust her point of view, as it would be an honest one.
And she suggested I look up the Survivor Summit with LIVESTRONG, an annual expedition to the summit of Kilimanjaro, benefitting LIVESTRONG. I was instantly curious and looked it up after we were done chatting. I was all over that website, reading ALL THE THINGS, inhaling ALL THE WORDS. And then this quote pulled me in further,
“Survivor Summit exists to provide inspiration, motivation and hope for those among us facing uphill battles. Formed by brothers intent on making a difference, we hope that you will be inspired to join us.”
And then, I saw a box in the lower left hand corner of the site that said, “2016 Expedition. Join Us”.
I clicked on it. And read more. I went to bed that night not telling another soul about this idea tugging at my heart.
I woke up the next day, heart still being tugged. Feeling with absolute certainty I was meant to do this expedition. Why? I wasn’t sure. But do it? Yes, I was sure I should do it.
And so I applied online. In a matter of days I went from never even considering climbing a mountain, to applying to do just that.
WHAT? Why?
Several weeks passed. Life went on. I still thought about it.
And then, in early May, I received an email from LIVESTRONG. They’d reviewed my application and wanted to discuss it further with me in a phone interview. Holy Shit. This could really be happening!
After a few traded emails, a call was set for the next day.
I was excited. Thrilled. Couldn’t wait.
The following day, I interviewed with someone from LIVESTRONG. I immediately felt connected to the cause, the Survivor Summit and confirmation that this was the place I was supposed to be.
One week later, on May 21st. I received email confirmation that I’d been selected as one of eighteen people to join the Survivor Summit expedition!
What the WHAT?!?!
I was ecstatic and yet still, why? Why was this so important to me? Why was I feeling so strongly that I was meant to be on that mountain? Why, when afraid of heights, did I not yet once waiver on my belief that I would be climbing that mountain?
More on that next time…
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