I was so sad to hear of the passing of Henry Worsley, the explorer who died trying to fulfil his dream of becoming the first man to cross Antarctica completely alone and without any back-up. I’ve never really understood the drive and determination that would lead someone to want to do something like that but then I suppose in the round I’ve lived a fairly safe and lazy life, so it’s not a mindset within my frame of reference at all. May you rest in peace, Sir.
I was lucky enough to attend a lecture a couple of years ago at the Royal Institution by Sir Ranulph Feinnes, who was there to talk about leading through adversity. I was captivated and horrified at the same time, and it seemed a bit incongruous being there from a business perspective.
I was looking for a key to unlock the discretionary effort in a team who didn’t really like me that much, in fact didn’t particularly seem to enjoy being at work. He was talking about leading a team of starving men across the North Pole when pretty much everyone’s fingers and toes were dropping off with frostbite. I felt a bit foolish trying to draw parallels between the two.
Now obviously I’m not comparing myself to the great man himself, and I’m not saying that I’ve had an epiphany, but over the last month or so, certainly since I registered for the Cuba trek there have definitely been occasions where I’ve had to make my body keep going despite my head shrieking instructions to the contrary. Thing is, despite my unfailing optimism even I know that this Cuba trek isn’t going to be a walk in the park.
If all goes according to plan I’ll be about 70lbs lighter by the time we head out, and it’s a good job because nobody in their right mind would drag this arse up a mountain. It’s 90km altogether, some of it uphill, in a rainforest. All the blurb I’ve seen about it calls out the amazing views when you get to the top, although I’ll probably be hooked up to an oxygen tank by the time we get that far so I might miss it.
I keep asking myself whether I’m really up for it, and for the first time in living memory I’m answering yes to something I know is going to hurt. What’s that all about? Maybe you grow a pair when you hit fifty?
I’m guessing flip flips won’t be deemed suitable footwear, and my fat feet don’t respond well to being stuffed into boots, unless they say ‘UGG’ on the back and cradle my toes gently in sheepskin. So, sore feet is a given. I’ve got a dodgy knee and a back which takes no persuading to give me hell. We’ll be trekking at altitude – no shit Sherlock, it’s a chuffing mountain range – and I have the kind of lung capacity that a gnat would be embarrassed to own up to, so all in all it’s going to be tough.
But you know, in between the agony there’s going to be high points. I’m looking forward to those. The opportunity to see and experience things that would have been impossible for a mobility-challenged fat lass is one I never thought I’d be given, so if I need to work my newly acquired balls off to make it to the finish line, well that’s what I’ll do.
It’s about fixing your sights on the end goal, and pushing the hell through. I can do that 🙂
