Ever since I was a child, adventure pulsed through my veins. Climbing trees, exploring hidden paths – the thrill of the unknown was intoxicating.
But watching the 2015 film "Everest" ignited a fire in my soul. The story of ordinary people risking everything to conquer the world's highest peak resonated deep within me. I was captivated.
Years later, I met my husband, Jonathan, and quickly convinced him (okay, maybe "convinced" is a strong word) that trekking to Everest Base Camp was the ultimate adventure.
We diligently saved, pouring every spare penny into our "Everest Fund". Three years and two adorable dogs later, we finally booked the trip. There was no turning back.
The real challenge wasn't the rigorous training, the medical assessments, or even packing our gear. It was convincing Jono that shorts were not appropriate attire for sub-zero temperatures.
Finally, the day arrived. We traded our everyday lives for the breathtaking Himalayas, ready to ditch potholes and loadshedding for mountain trails.
Our journey began with a heart-stopping flight to Lukla, one of the world's most dangerous airports, perched precariously on a mountainside. Stepping off the plane, the icy Himalayan air hit us like a wall, but the sheer beauty of the mountains took our breath away.
The 12-day trek to Base Camp was a sensory feast: ancient forests, rushing glacial rivers, colourful prayer flags fluttering in the wind. We shared the trail with hardy locals, yaks laden with supplies, and even the occasional mountain goat.
While the trail itself wasn't overly technical, the altitude was our constant adversary. Every step was a battle against the thinning air. We quickly learned that at high altitudes, even water becomes a luxury commodity, along with toilet paper and snacks.
We hiked for hours each day, the majestic peak of Everest looming larger with every step. But the air grew thinner, the cold more biting.
On the day we were to reach Base Camp, I could barely feel my fingers, my breath forming tiny icicles on my eyelashes. But we pushed on, fueled by sheer determination and the promise of achieving our dream.
And then, we were there. Standing at 5 364 meters, surrounded by the towering giants of the Himalayas, we had reached Everest Base Camp. But instead of the exhilaration I expected, a chilling realisation washed over me: something was wrong.
My thoughts were muddled, my breath shallow and strained. As the gravity of the situation sunk in, the weather decided to join the party, turning treacherous in an instant. So, we began our descent.
The trek down, usually a 45-minute stroll, took me over two hours. Every step was agony.
Jono became my rock, encouraging me, practically carrying me at times. Back at our tea house, our guide checked our oxygen levels. Mine was critically low, hovering below 45%. I needed to get to a lower altitude, and fast.
Helicopter evacuation, our only option, was impossible in the deteriorating weather and sub-zero temperatures. We were stranded, our dream adventure morphing into a nightmare.
For the next 12 hours, I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body shutting down. Jono stayed by my side, talking to me, praying for me, keeping me tethered to reality.
When the sun finally rose the next morning, the weather had miraculously cleared. Jono, ever resourceful, secured a helicopter back down to Lukla. Too weak to walk, he carried me to the hospital, where I was diagnosed with Altitude Sickness.
It took months for my body to fully recover, but the experience left an indelible mark on my soul. I had been so fixated on conquering this mountain, on achieving my goal, that I ignored my body's desperate pleas for rest. I had sacrificed my wellbeing at the altar of ambition.
In the pursuit of our dreams, it's easy to lose sight of what truly matters. We become so focused on the destination that we forget to appreciate the journey, and most importantly, to care for ourselves along the way.
My experience taught me the importance of listening to my inner voice, of prioritising self-care, and of recognising that true success is not measured by the mountains we climb, but by the way we navigate the journey.
Yes, dream big, set audacious goals, and chase your adventures with passion. But remember, the fire within you can only burn brightly if you tend to it with care. Listen to your body, respect its limits, and don't be afraid to slow down, to rest, to recalibrate.
The most breathtaking views are often savoured after a challenging climb, and sometimes, the greatest adventure is discovering the strength and resilience within ourselves.
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