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February 06 running. to. and away.i LOVE this. and ditto. thanx kristin.
And something else entered my mind as I grunted through the final miles to finish 4 minutes slower than my PR. Something between gratitude and epiphany on the realization scale. I realized that I am out here, most days of every week, pursuing something that does not come naturally or easily to me. And I have been doing this for 5 years. Never in my life, before running, did I ever push hard after something that did not rank high on the list of things that come easily to me. I have always aspired to/excelled at things that I was already good at. This probably stems from fear, pride, laziness or some perfection compulsion; my priest or therapist would know for sure. But running isn't like that for me. It's hard for me. I struggle. I suffer. I get discouraged. I get mad. I celebrate, sometimes. And when I chase after Paige, Katie or any other zippy friend, it's not because I suck, it's because they don't. Running for Paige is one of her passions, one of her God-given talents, as natural for her as nursing a baby or riding a horse bareback. It isn't one of mine, and that is okay with me (or will be as soon as this epiphany sinks in), because I love it anyway...I just love it differently than she does. I love it the way you love a rivalrous sibling, deep tissue massage, a session with your therapist, giving birth, or a big fight with someone you love. It doesn't always feel good in the moment, but ultimately you are a better person for it.
So I may not always run the way I want to run, race the way I imagine myself racing, and my performance outside may only rarely reflect the runner on the inside, but there is a certain endurance rush reserved for those of us who have to work extra hard just to stand on the start line and dream. There is a unique beauty to pursuing the glow that resides just beyond our reach. July 10 my new brother is brillianti keep telling anyone that will listen, that if i knew brothers came in this variety and wonderfulness--- i would have gotten myself a dozen of them years ago.... my brotherNlaw loves my sister... see? [he wrote this and i stole it. deal.] My dear friends, I bring you tales from a far off place, a place that is known to many as the cradle of the earth. Yes… I have heard from our dear Amelia and the stories she has told me will shake your soul, inspire your imagination and most of all… reflect the spirit that lives, nay burns, from within her. Yes my friends, she has what few on this planet has… stood a top the Uhuru Peak and looked down upon the world… but this tale does not begin a top one of the highest and most infamous mountains on this planet. It began on the bleak shimmering plain of the Amboseli, where the flatness gives way to the stunning spectacle of Kilimanjaro, towering over it, as in those clichéd safari photographs taken with telephoto lenses, appearing almost to fill the sky. The light was right that day and the snowy massif, washed with coral and orange was devastatingly beautiful.
Amelia and her crew arrived happy and eager to take a long stroll up 5893 meters above sea level. If you don’t know the math, I’ll do it for you. That is 19335.6 ft. Altitude is a funny drug. It can bring the strongest and fittest to their knees regardless of practice or preparation. It is unforgiving and does not play favorites. And because of this, the trip up ‘Kili’ is stretched over a number of days. Over the years the porters leading these trips have found it is best to give those anxious to reach the summit, some time to let their bodies acclimate to the lower air pressures and accompanying lower amounts of oxygen.
In Tibet the have Sherpas, in Tanzania they have Porters. The lead porter on this expedition was named Vicotr, a big strong African and one of Amelia's first encounters with Victor, she asked, "Any of your porters ever been female?" Victor looked at Amelia with a smile on his face as if to laugh at the idea and replied, "for porter, not lady is better". With that he turned and began guiding their ascent up Kilimanjaro along what is known as the Rongai Route. A climb that is not for the faint of heart and that takes its travellers from 1950 meters to their final destination of 5893 meters in just a few days.
Their first stop on the harrowing journey was Camp Simba, probably named after the mighty lion in those Disney films… The Lion King, I don’t know can only guess. Camp Simba sits just short of 2600 meters and is nestled into a nice little saddle along the route to Uhuru. Day two, day three passed by as the meters were clicking away as Amelia liked this “stroll” in the Kilimanjaro National Park. But between the 4th and 5th day, Kili decided to cut this stroll short as the affects of altitude, that strange elixir, that concoction of thin air and stress, snuck up on our protagonist and cast its spell upon her. Amelia fell violently ill, wretching all night with out a second's sleep. This the night before trying to hike to next camp. The next day, she vomited every 50 yards and stopped every 10-20 ft trying to make it up anyway. But it was not to be. A porter escorted Amelia all the way down in that condition and at that same pace...all the way back to the 1st camp, camp Simba. What took 5 days to gain, Amelia gave back to Kili in one. Arriving at Simba, she took her meds and much needed rest.
The next morning having turned around her esophagus and feeling the strength flow back into her body, she looked at her porter and said "kibo" Kibo referring to the Kibo Crater which is the location of the final camp prior to pushing for the summit. Kibo sits at 4700 meters. So our hero, my wife, your friend, and other’s daughter and even others sister was sitting at 2600 feet, looking at the porter that just watched her puke for 36hrs and said “Kibo” and he laughed. She looked at another porter and repeated herself, “Kibo” The second porter joined the first with a laughter that together harmonized and conveyed their thought that going all the way back up to Kibo was really only comical. A near by Porter, that knew a bit more English, heard Amelia and asked “you want to climb?” She explains that she is no stranger to mountains and that she is from Colorado, she has carried bigger packs with heavier loads at similar altitudes. This creates consternation at the camp, when finally the camp ranger arrives at the tent brandishing an AK-47. He looks her up and down and states… you must write a commitment absolving me of any poor judgment and under the Amelia signed affidavit, her writes… I let her climb. As they are heading out the door of the tent, he looks at Amelia and says, “no lady ever made it simba-kibo one day, lady" She smiled, put on her pack and headed back up the mountain.
At this point it was now 9am on Friday morning...they expect it to take until at least 8pm to get to Kibo...that's 2hrs by torch...and Amelia’s gang is scheduled to begin their move for the peak at 11pm...only 3hrs after her scheduled arrival. They begin to click away at this mountain now, clipping past the second camp at a pace that has the porters rethinking their estimates, now the guess is that they reach kibo before dark or just before 6:30. As they continue to move up, the next camp falls and there is no need for rests and their estimates of time to reach Kibo continues to fall. And finally they reach Kibo, it is only 3 in the afternoon… as they enter the tent Amelia and her porters are greeted by her party with shocked face that gave way to hugs and yes even proposals were made! (Good thing your narrator made good on a promise to Amelia prior to this adventure.)
But nobody was more surprised or shocked at the site of Amelia than the expedition’s leader, Victor. A quick check of the facts that they actually did come all the way from Simba, and he extended a warm hand to Amelia, smiled and said, “Okay, lady porter then”
The hard part was just about to begin… so they fed are hero, laid her down for some sleep and got her ready for an 11pm departure for the summit… which by now you know, she made. I would continue to elaborate, but I will let our gal tell the rest of this story in person when she returns state side.
From the top of Kilimanjaro… through the ether of the internet.. to the inbox on your computer, this is Doug Hurst for J.Amelia Hurst saying, “aroca roca” |
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