The night before in the pub, everything had been relaxed and fun and the climb seemed possible, but in the early morning sunshine, fully dressed in walking boots and back pack and far too many layers, I just wasn't sure I could. I'd had the drama over whether my hydration bladder was leaking (turns out I can't fit a lid properly) and had been for about 3 emergency wee's of my own; I'd packed enough snacks for half the team; I'd not really figured out the reality of what was going to come next.
8.35 am text to my husband: "We're just leaving. I feel sick. Nerves and fear of judgement xx"
I was so scared that I would just be no good, that I would let everyone down and they would wish I wasn't on the team, that they'd prefer it if one of the reserves had my place instead. Of course, the biggest criticism is in my own head, I know that deep down but it's hard to drown out the voices and think that they're not all around not just inside. Every concern i'd expressed my team had been great about, but it still wasn't enough.
10.00 am: "I already want to cry and go home!! Now we've stopped I'm good, but the thought of starting again. We've done 40 minutes and I'm already struggling. My chest isn't good but I'm determined I will do this, I will not get rescued and kicked off the team!!! xx"
Perhaps mountain climbing with a bad chest wasn't a great idea, but I'd spent all week ill with one thing or another and I was determined to not let this beat me. Part of me felt that if I didn't do the climb that I would jepodise my place on the climb, and part of me felt if i didn't do the climb that I should just give up my place anyway. It might have helped if there was a clear path, but there were times when I honestly felt like we were just climbing up random rocks. I am no a goat, I cannot climb up vertical pathways!! There was really a point when I just wanted to cry and tell them I was going back down. My chest hurt and I felt like I couldn't breathe and walk and climb all at the same time, and my thighs hurt and my legs were too short and it was just so hard.
Thankfully the rest of the team were great, encouraging me and believing in me and telling me I could, I was doing it. If I'd been alone there's no way I could have carried on.
11.06 am: "Got to the next stop, still hard, about half way up but enjoying it a bit more. Views amazing x"
Amazingly, my fear of heights didn't really kick in - although we were really high the drops were pretty gentle - undulating greenery and amazing lakes certainly helped! I also learnt that you're not meant to wave at the ever hovering rescue helicopters,thankfully before one came to get me!
11.26 am: "So tired"
Honestly, at this point I just didn't even know how i'd made it this far. I'd scrabbled over rocks that were randomly assorted and piled up, declared "I am not a goat" and "my legs are too short" more times that we'd sung Disney songs and the peak still seemed so far away. At the time when they were saying we were just 20 minutes away (ha! not at my speed) it still looked miles off, and then people on the route back down kept telling me I was nearly there. I had to wonder just how desperate to peak I looked trekking up the last length.
And then it was there. The last bit, the last few hundred yards and a dozen more bloody steps up to the top, to touch the bronze plaque that denotes you have arrived.
I arrived!!!!!
12.20 pm: "I'm here. Jesus I'm shattered but very proud"
I even took a photo with my ring finger on it so no one can doubt it's mine!! It felt like such an amazing achievement to do it and get up there (not on the train!) and it felt so good that it was with the team I was going to travel to Nepal with, to know that if (when) I have a crisis, a moment of "i can't, i can't" that my team will have my back, that they will be there for me to rely on and hopefully I can offer that support and love back when i'm not halfway up a pile of rocks!
The team posed together for a group shot, and we got the amazing news that our two reserves (one of whom happens to be one of my best friends!) were able to join the trek and come to Nepal. I might have cried a little bit, but for all the right reasons. I will be amazing knowing that Sheleen and I can do this trip together, that I have someone who really gets my silliness and in whom I inspire silliness (although when Suzie was ticking my new cuddly dragon, Gilly, I realised there might be a contender for humouring me!), and that we will have those amazing memories to carry forward together.
The route down felt far easier (on my chest, not my knees) and with the addition of a couple of walking sticks we seemed to drop down a huge height in very little time, leaving us with a long walk around the beautiful lakes and lots of time to take geography-esque photo's (oohhh looks at that seam of granite! look at the strata!). I would have happily spent a weekend camping on the side of the lake it was so stunning, but there was a pub stop and a drive home to my husband calling. Perhaps I can convince my husband to get up there on the train...
When we finally got back to the vehicles I had a well deserved double whiskey to celebrate and we headed home, with aching legs and glad hearts. It really was an amazing day and even though, two days later, my thighs still ache, I'm feeling so much more confident and excited about Nepal. I know there's a long way to go - how hard Snowdon was really helped me see how much I have to do if I want to do that four days in a row, but I'm determined, just as soon as I can walk again, to get those legs moving and ready for the next big pile of randomly assorted up rocks!
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