Wow! What a
terrible blogger I have been this year. I think that this has been my most
delayed post, and I do apologise- because it’s not like I haven’t had anything
to write about. Maybe too many things occupying my mind and time at the moment, which I know is an excuse, and you know I don’t stand for those. In any case and in
my true Kristyn manner, I have another big adventure coming up- imminently!
I hadn’t planned to
do something of this scale so quickly after the London Marathon, but was
coerced into it because the logic seemed good at the time (and still does for
the most part, and is on the longer-short term bucket list of achievements).
I’m climbing Mont Blanc the first week of September- holy
geeze!
I did think that I
would trek another large peak in the first half of next year, but acquiring
some Pole Vault Rio 2016 Olympics tickets threw a bit of a spanner in my travel
sequence of events, hence September it is.
Again with my
planning hat on, I would/ should have started blogging about this, the
preparation of, and run up to my climb months
in advance to bring you along; rather the whole event has been a bit of a
“let’s fit it in and do what I can” ordeal/ endeavour? Not sure which word I
should use. I think I’ll change frame to the positive and go with endeavour.
Rest assured, this endeavour has not
been without planning, more so, it’s been without the build-up that I created
prior to my Kili climb… on all accounts; and including my training.
I have still spent the time researching
the best-for-us climbing company (a company based in Canmore called On Top Ltd.),
diligently have chosen the hotels, and the post-trek/ climb rewarding beach
holiday. What I haven’t prepared for very well was the physicality of the endeavour, where my first reality check
came when I went to purchase new boots…
First of all, I
thought I could get away with my borrowed and well-broken-in boots that I have
used the past four years. The salesman in the outdoors shop shot me an “are you
kidding?!” one-eyebrow lift when I gasped at the price and explained I hadn’t
expected to spend £300 on boots that I might only wear a handful of times. With
some quick Google-searching to see how hard-core I needed to go, I realised that
I wasn’t escaping these heavy-duty technical pieces of kit. I have since ended
up in a pair of Mammut Monolith GTX boots, perhaps heavier and sturdier than
any pair of skates I’ve ever owned.
Second reality
check came again whilst shopping around for boots, and I decided to consult the
rest of the kit-list and match it to items in the shop: crampons & ice axe. Hmmmm…. I am sure you can see from the
picture that this will not be some steady plod up a large hill.
Reassuringly
though, I have booked a tour that will teach and let us practice “ice climbing/
crampon use/ glacier travel” on at least two days prior to summiting. And to
further question my judgment when thinking this was a good idea, some excerpts from
the detailed itinerary:
“The approach from the Tete Rousse Hut to the Gouter Hut is the
technically most challenging … Roping on and early start the ascent to
the Gouter Hut. A short glacier is followed by the traverse of the "Grand
Couloir", the most notorious and
objectively dangerous part of the ascent (45 min)” Well, I like most things objective.
What have I got myself into?! At least On Top has managed expectations
to tell us that the terror should only take 45 minutes of the entire trip. “Seb”
our young French guide who is following his calling will surely look after me. To
my defence as well, the bulk of the climbing companies suggest that the only
training that you need is to be half-marathon fit. That should be a shoe-in for
someone who ran the London Marathon this year. Yea- should be.
Bringing me to reality check number three: my fitness is not as it
should be and I feel like I am sucking at running at the moment! In the run up
to my Kili climb I had been diligent in training- although only three days a
week, I prioritised a cross-training session with lunges and intervals + a 10 –
13 mile run on the weekend. This time and since April, I’ve probably only run
longer than 10km a handful of times. My mileage time is increasing (although
still slightly faster than 2013). My
cross-training has been nearly non-existent.
What I have done as part of breaking in my boots, was some exploring
in the Lake District at the beginning of August. Two long days of walking
uphill in my boots with a back pack, some scrambling, and a teensy bit of
altitude (800m, which is mountain standards in Britain; + 4000m more for Mt
Blanc) made for a good basic check-in where I know that at least I shouldn’t
end up with blisters and my Camelback fits in my backpack. That’s good enough
to traverse the highest peak in Western Europe, right?
And as I continue to naively convince myself that everything will be
fine because I have booked my specifically Alpine Mountaineering travel
insurance, have a very colourful and bright selection of mountain climbing
outer-wear including my B-2 Crampon compatible boots, and have “Seb, the young
mountaineer” looking after us, I leave you with some beautiful pictures from Britain’s
“mountains”: Helvellyn and Blencathra. Wish me luck!
