On Sept. 29 at 9:38 a.m., after six days of freezing temperatures, cloud mist, blisters, bruises, headaches and vomiting, I reached the 19,341-foot summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, the world’s tallest free-standing mountain. What began as a bit of a dare between good friends a year ago has become one of my proudest, life-changing accomplishments.
But most importantly, at 9:38 a.m. I became overwhelmed with an emotion that every human needs to feel at some point: invincibility. It’s an imprinted memory of bravery, boldness, self-pride and proof of sheer mental toughness that no one can take away or deny. And while not all my friends, families and colleagues have “Climb Mount Kilimanjaro” on their to-do list, we all have and need a mountain to climb. It might be opening a veterinary practice, leaving the profession, becoming a parent, ending a bad relationship, finally losing that stubborn weight, or fulfilling a physical goal of a marathon or mountain peak.
Nonetheless, those days on Kilimanjaro left me with the following lessons that permanently changed my life.
We Must Make Space
Before my trip, I spent several sessions with my life coach to explore the emotions that arose as my departure date drew closer. While the feelings were somewhat expected for someone who had never hiked or camped a day in her life, I’m forever grateful to my life coach for a crucial step in my personal growth.
To make a change, you need space in your body, brain and heart. You need space to learn new things and to be creative, lighter and more open to the possibility of change. Take the time to identify what doesn’t serve you anymore, whether it’s toxic friendships, guilt and regret, mistakes you haven’t let go of, or the past holding you back. I wrote mine down, carried them to the top of the mountain, and physically and emotionally left them there. It was utterly freeing, and I walked down feeling mentally lighter and happier.
Accept the Suck
The night before we started climbing, one of our guides provided instructions and an overview of our time together. At one point, a fellow veterinarian asked whether our adventure was “truly going to suck.” While most of us laughed, we glanced around and knew we were thinking the same thing but were too nervous to ask. The guide pointed out a common misunderstanding about Mount Kilimanjaro. The secret to reaching the summit isn’t based solely on physical endurance or who trained the hardest. Instead, it’s 90% mental, and the guides could usually tell on Day One who was ready to accept the suck.
The reality is that acceptance isn’t instantaneous. When we think about the five stages of grief, for example, we end up at acceptance only after we’ve experienced the first four stages. It’s not an easy place to reach.
One subtle point is that we don’t have to embrace challenging moments. They won’t last forever, and we don’t have to love them. Our goal is to reframe the experience in our mind for short-term acceptance because mental energy drains quickly when we choose to fight what is ahead.
“Pole Pole”
We started our first hike with the Swahili porters frequently saying “pole pole” (pronounced poh-lay poh-lay). In my naivete, I assumed it was a reminder to use our walking poles on the uneven trails, and I would respond, “I’m trying!” However, one of the more fluent English-speaking porters quickly corrected me. “Pole pole” in Swahili means “slowly” or “little by little.” The phrase originated with Tanzanian guides who constantly advise hikers to take small, slow steps when climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. Larger steps require more energy and muscle, and the energy can quickly be swallowed up at lower elevations, making reaching the summit more challenging.
“Pole pole” is also a double entendre that I didn’t realize until later in the climb. It doesn’t just mean physically slowing down but, more importantly, taking in the moment and being present. I started to notice unique rocks, the foliage, the cloud mist on my face, the way my breath sounded different each day, and how fantastic soup tasted and warmed my body at the end of an eight-hour climb.
I brought that feeling back from Africa, and I saw the difference it makes in what used to be daily mundanity. Take that extra moment to breathe, to notice a gorgeous sky, to authentically say hi to a neighbor or colleague, to eat dinner with your children without technology, to accept a compliment fully, and to treasure the extra few seconds of a hug with a loved one.
Sometimes You Must Climb Alone
Things don’t always go as planned. While I went on this trip with the comfort that I would be climbing a mountain with my good friend and fellow novice climber, she fell ill to altitude sickness within a few days. I had two minutes to hug her, cry and say goodbye, and then 10 minutes of panic before the next hike began. In those 10 minutes, it hit me that the next five days were all up to me.
Proceeding without my climbing partner was a blessing in disguise. I had to open myself to the other hikers quickly in a time of extreme vulnerability. And when I made the summit and the long way down, I could take 100% of the credit, which is the best feeling.
Your mountain might be crowded with family, friends, colleagues and mentors. If that’s the case, you’re blessed. But if you’re suddenly alone on your journey, keep your mind open and curious about the beautiful changes and growth that await you.
Fear Is Just a Voice
Nights were the most challenging part of the climb. Not only was the air cold, but the silence was deafening. Silence is something only some of us are comfortable with. I am not one of those people. There’s no internet service on the mountain and no music, sirens or barking dogs. At best, I heard a random bird cawing and intermittent muted voices in tents. Which meant I heard only one thing clearly: the inner voice of fear.
That voice was never louder than the night we started climbing from base camp to the summit. We rested for a few hours in the early evening, awoke at 11:30 p.m., dressed in four to six layers, had tea and biscuits, put on our headlamps and gear, and started the nine-hour ascent in the dark. During those first few steps, all my inner voice did was scream negative thoughts.
In instances where all you feel is utter dread, remind yourself of these two things:
- Fear originated as an emotion that kept us safe thousands of years ago and even in some moments today. But it does not control or define you.
- Two things can be true simultaneously. Acknowledge your fear by naming it and even speaking to it out loud.
During the first long, quiet night (and the second and third), I told my fear, “This night is too quiet for my comfort level, and I’m going to be so proud of myself when I make another day on this mountain.” What followed was instant relief.
The Downhill May be Harder
When I reached that beautiful sign at the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, I spent five minutes taking photos and getting hugs. We were then told we needed to start a two-stage, five- to six-hour hike to the base camp and the lower, final night camp. I was tired but relieved that the last section was all downhill. Finally, I had an easy hike ahead!
I was wrong. Downhill was more complicated, slippery and painful than the uphill, and I fell several times. My toes were bruised and bleeding from banging into the front of my hiking boots with every step, and my quadriceps burned from trying to stabilize my body, which wanted to fall down the trail.
It’s vitally important to remember that we don’t always coast after we reach our goal. What we assume will be a more manageable period might be bumpy and untraveled. It might be full of obstacles you hadn’t considered. And that’s precisely when we take a deep breath and say aloud, “Pole pole.” The mountain will wait for you.
ANIMAL WATCHING
According to the guide company Ultimate Kilimanjaro, some of the wildlife that climbers might see are the blue monkey, white-necked raven, bush baby, Jackson’s chameleon, serval and aardvark.
COLD OPENINGS
Ernest Hemingway’s short story The Snows of Kilimanjaro was published in 1936. It begins: “Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa. … Close to the western summit there is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard.”
Dr. Natalie Marks celebrates reaching the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro.