Movember

That time is nearly upon us again. And whilst I will be growing a hairy beast on my upper lip for it I will not be raising money for Movember but asking people to kindly head towards my Mera Peak donation. Yes, that's right ladies and gents - it's a 2 for the price of 1 offer. Sponsor me for Mera Peak and get one free Movember thrown in. This offer is not available in the shops. Call now and one of our dedicated handlers is waiting to take YOUR call. That's right, people. Call http://andz-mera.justgiving.com/ now. Don't delay. Be the envy of your friends. Be the envy of your friends' friends. Be the envy of your friends' friends' family. Ok, you get the point.

The other thing about not being a rogue Mo' means I don't need to respect their rules about time to grow. So I'm already working on my beast. And, yes, it's in that itchy phase. Joy.

Monkey Feet, Broken Knees and Realisation

After the last bootcamp I thought that was it. The game was up. My knees hurt so much I couldn't stand up. If I did stay stood up they would crack and click over nothing. At the time I thought there was simply no way of getting over the fact of being older and that Mera was a big pile of rock too far. But the good thing about scary goals is they make you reassess things and I learned two important things while I was trying to get better.

First up. Trigger points and TB bands. The roller I got on the advice of a friend has been a beneficial, if painful addition to my regime. The principle being that by rolling over the muscle you break up scar tissue and therefore reduce muscle imbalance caused by scar tissue. Did I mention it hurts? Well, putting your whole body weight into it really really does.

Second up. My running gait is wrong. I went for a run last night in the monkey feet to see how far I would get. I won't lie here I didn't have any great hopes of making progress. When you're running with no cushioning between you and the ground you get a very direct feel for how you body is postured and loaded. Once I'd started adjusting to not landing on my heel I became aware that my knees were rolling outwards. Or rather that I was landing on the outside of my feet rather than having my weight evenly distributed. As that realisation dawned I started concentrating on fixing the landing and straightening my knees. Net result. The first run after fearing that my training was over for ages was a 5km run. With almost no pain in my knees today. Well, no discernible difference from yesterday anyway.

I look back at all the aborted attempts at getting fit where my knees stopped working. And looking back what stopped me wasn't my knees. It was not listening to what they were telling me. So, hope has dawned again. Now I have to resist the temptation to make up for lost time with my training and push myself too hard. What I need is a good solid 6 months of training without injury or illness. But, ladies and gents - it's back on.

Knees--

The last bootcamp was a mistake in retrospect. My knees are currently in various states of disrepair and make odd crunching and cracking sounds when I move. Saying that - the difference in not having run on them for a week is very noticeable so I have hopes that it's a temporary blip. As I'm currently in California for work I'm keeping the body moving my stretching my quads and hamstrings and walking the 3 miles to and from work.

Next week we'll see where we stand and either continue Bootcamp or find something lower impact. Either way I think I need to do some more strength work to build some support up there.

The other cloud on the horizon is wondering whether I'll even have a job to take time off from next April. But that's a whole other story...

Knees

After a month and a half of bootcamp there is mixed news to report. First up I've lost about 8 kilos in weight. So now I only need to lose another 12 more to be carrying the minimum surplus spare tyre up the hill. Tempered with that is the fact that my knees are making odd crunching and popping noises when I move.

I'm in California next week so hopefully a little rest will help then. Plus I still have my old knee supports from back when football regularly left me hobbling about plus Ibuleve and Tiger Balm. Once I've mummified my knees in that it should all magically get better.... or I'm going to be raising money for some plastic kneecaps ;-)

The other thing that might help is my monkey feet (aka Vibram Five Fingers) which serve the dual purpose of making me use the muscles evolution intended to walk and run but also allows me to weird Damion out by stroking him with them.

One would be climber, slightly used

My knee hurts this morning. A reminder that I don't have the infinite capacity to abuse my body that I appeared to have in younger times. In this case it's a reminder of when it got twisted through about 180 degrees during what one of the most brutal 5-a-side matches of all time (the game ended with 7 people left on the pitch but that's another story). At times like these I remember exactly what's put myself through (mostly self inflicted):

Twisted right knee
Dislocated back (3 times)
Slipped disc in back (once)
Broken ribs (forgot to block a kick)
Torn hamstrings (left leg from muscle memory of being able to kick really high, right leg playing football)
Tendonitis in eblow (badminton)
Crushed ribs/chest (car crash)
Twisted ankles (various though mostly from football)
Severed nerves in leg from big metal spike
Left shoulder clicks in and out (from surfing)
Broken toe (parachute jump)
- numerous minor strains and pulls from over exertion.
- stitches in head, legs, mouth (multiple times from a variety of blunt and sharp objects)
- misc concussions from blunt objects

Old age is coming and I'm going to be reminded of all of this as time goes on. I'm very lucky that nothing has been seriously mashed up but as I am increasingly aware of each of them as I progress towards. Today it's the knee, but it's a reminder of the past not a breakdown. And it's the result of being able to throw myself fully into bootcamp last night for the first time in what seems like ages. I may be a walking reminder of past exertions but I'm heading in the right direction albeit from a more chronologically advanced perspective. It's also a reminder that from now on I need to take better care of planet me.

Pleasant Surprises, Unpleasant Realities

My faith in humanity went up a little yesterday. Having not actually sent the link to my JustGiving page out to any friends or family or workmates I got a donation. Let the record state that Fee, Brynley and Rach were the first people to sponsor me and give me an extra reason to put myself through this. Now I've got people to not let down and feel less exposed than when I put the page up. Thank you guys. An honorable mention here also goes to Martyn who thinks my training is crazy. This is from a man who ran a sub 3h30 marathon so the feeling is mutual ;-)

Which all leads on to unpleasant realities. Part of my training is carrying my kettlebell up the 7 floors of stairs at work. Unpleasant is one way to describe this were one to indulge in typical British understatement. My legs currently feel like jelly and my heart did make a serious attempt to escape from my chest cavity. However, if I can get over the initial shock then I reckon this is perfect training. It's specific and will develop balance and leg strength that will be invaluable later on. Provided I survive it.

Charity

You would think that the choice of charity for this is straightforwards. After all my mum died of cancer when I was younger and my dad has cancer now which they can slow but not cure. I think that my mum would approve of me trying this. She always wanted her children to follow their dreams and experience as much of the world as possible. Yet, when it came to set up the JustGiving page it took effort on my part to choose Marie Curie as the nominated charity. That's when I realised just how deeply personal a thing it still was for me. Right about the point where I started crying as I was trying to fill in the page.

It's not that I don't want to remember my parents or help people who find themselves in the same situation. But the effort of sharing those feelings or even maybe just the events that they come from is an act which has left me feeling very alone and vulnerable. Now, the whole thing means so much more and I have to face up to my doubts about myself along with everything else. Maybe people should only raise money for good causes they aren't emotionally involved with.

Still - I guess it's a reason to go and slosh around in the mud at Boot Camp tonight.

Reboot

The running and random office push ups have made a difference so it's back to Boot Camp for yours truly. Twice a week plus the odd run and some hiking appears to be my best bet for general and specific fitness. Especially since it's time to face some harsh facts: namely I need to drop between 10-15kg of weight (more if possible) if I'm to have a realistic shot at Mera. If I have to carry the contents of the Google canteen up there then I don't fancy my chances.

So from now on - moderation at lunchtime. Training. More training and some more training.

Grid'O'Pain

Damion, Pete and myself decided to capture the various elements of our fitness regimes. Or rather I put together a spreadsheet. The exact origin doesn't matter. The dimensions on the spreadsheet are:

Fitness Bootcamp (hours)
Press Ups
One armed clean and jerks (with the 16kg kettlebell)
Floors of stairs
Floors of stairs carrying the kettlebell
Run (km)
Hike (km)
Bike (km)
Swim (km)

In the middle of that list is the innocuous looking "Floors of stairs carrying the kettlebell". Basically it simulates complete system wide panic in the cardiovascular and pulmonary systems as well as causing my legs to stop working. I imagine that it's going to be what it feels like trying to walk up steep ice in crampons at 6000m. Only spread out over a much shorter time than the mountain. If I survive the next couple of times I think I've found the perfect training aid.

An open letter to the England football team

The morning after the night before. I'm still seething at what I watched last night. A team full of Englishmen with nothing to prove. Standing and pouting at each other and getting a lesson in desire from Algeria covered in all its excruciating frustration by ITV. Meaning that alongside what was a pitiful display I had to endure an endless series of adverts featuring the players I had so wanted to believe in. In the adverts they seemed proud to play for England, passionate, creative. That football was the single most important thing in their lives.

Last night 11 men walked back into that changing room and can any of them have truly said they left everything they had on the pitch? They told us that even below par they should beat Algeria. That they were hungry. Those 11 shirts contained the dreams of every boy who grew up in this country dreaming of playing in the World Cup. The dreams of people who saved and bartered for tickets and made ends meet so they could see their heroes play in the flesh and represent us all. This was our Disneyworld and it was like going to Disneyworld and watching Mickey Mouse drunkenly throwing up on Donald Duck. They told us that this was Algeria's World Cup Final. Sadly it seemed that they had played their World Cup Finals in the adverts they are so lucratively rewarded for. In the self indulgent pieces to camera they recorded showing how cool and human they are and how much this supposedly means to them. Then a limp display. More sulking and back to their 5 star hotels.

If playing for England isn't a privilege then don't do it. If you can't remember the dreams you had playing in the playground or the local field then stay at home. Enjoy your summers in your expensive homes. Do your photoshoots for Hello! magazine. Get drunk and have your antics reported in the papers. Cheat on your wives and girlfriends. Yesterday - Algeria can be rightfully proud of the men who walked out on that pitch to represent them. England, sadly, cannot say the same thing.

Maybe the pressure of a nation's expectations was too much for them. Maybe England will do what they have done so many World Cups before and discover that spark and find redemption. I would rather we went out trying to play. Contesting every ball. United by our nationality. Remembering what it's like to be a child playing for the simple pleasure of it. After all it's just a game and should be about bringing joy.

You told us that this was Algeria's World Cup final. Well next Wednesday your World Cup Final is against Slovenia. You still have a chance to make your nation believe again. To rediscover why you play football. To convince us that you aren't only in it for the money and sense of privilege it gives you. If you don't want to play then I, and millions of other Englishmen, would rather you just got on a plane home now and went back to recording your adverts and to your lives of excess. If you cannot step on that pitch and give it your best try (even if you lose trying) then you are no longer worth the hope I have invested in you. Maybe a future generation of footballers might come to represent something I can believe in again.

Progress

6 ascents of St Catherines. The good news:

Distance travelled: 12.5km
Vertical Gain: 512m
Average moving speed: 5.9km/h

The bad news:

Weight carried: 0kg

Going to get some decent distance before I start adding a rucksack so no great rush for it yet.

Next up I need a spirit level so I can take a photo and show how steep the damn thing is.

Sunset in London

Didn't bring my camera up to London this week but I did give the camera on the Nexus One a try. The results are surprisingly good. Unfortunately, zoomed shots in low lighting kinda suck but it definitely takes my iPhone to school.

Being by the water as the Sun goes down is a good place to be.... Sadly I couldn't get anywhere near Battersea Power Station from upriver so will have to try and approach from the other side.

Here comes the rain again...

When I lived in Tokyo it didn't rain for the first 2 months I was there. Then the rainy season struck. What I hadn't realised was how much I missed the rain. Possibly a side effect of my nationality. When the heavens finally opened. And, boy, did they ever open. I was straight outside to glory in all the sky water before going back indoors to drip everywhere to the muted tutting of my co-workers.

It was raining again last night and I went for a run by the Thames. Training in the rain is a truly pleasurable experience. You get to that state where your body is generating enough heat to offset what you lose from being soaked to the skin and you don't have to try too hard to not overheat. The odd thing is how quickly you forget how nice it is and look outside and use it as an excuse not to go out at the first sign of clouds.

One of the positive things about having a goal for training is that such trivial excuses don't get in the way of simple pleasures like this.

St Catherine's Hill - Round 2

Instead of getting sun burned I got soaked to the skin. And for added fun the hill is made of very chalky soil which gets kinda slippery when there's some moisture. Added another two ascents to last week before the very real possibility of bricking my phone led me to head home.

So. Up to 5 x St Catherine's from the target of 20. It's progress. And progress is good. Plus I felt much much stronger than last week which hopefully is a good sign rather than the effects of being out in the rain.

I also have a kit list to start preparing. Which means shopping for cool gadgets. Though not for a little while as my washing machine decided it no longer wants to perform its primary function.

Land and sea

My knee was hurting in the way it does when it senses I intend to do exercise and my body feels compelled to try and discourage me from doing so. Which meant I wound up doing 10km on the road last night and 1km in the pool this morning. Neither seems to have made it particularly better or worse so I think my body needs me to call its bluff. It turns out the 4th bridge up the Thames is for the Tube and can't be crossed so I had to turn back there. Time to start exploring downstream past the Houses of Parliament as well. Being near the river is providing a nice backdrop as the sun goes down and does a great job in sucking some of the pollution out of the air.

I think I'll bring a camera next week and get some shots around sunset. Especially as the walk goes quite near to Battersea Power Station as well and that must be awesome with good lighting. Not sure how close to it I can get on the South Bank as I haven't explored that bit of the river yet. It's reminding me of the days of living out of hotels back at Netscape and going for a walk to explore the local neighborhood in the evenings. Thought, obviously minus the drinking, inappropriate corporate anthems and wooden bears.


View 26may in a larger map

Haircut

Saturday's walk told me some useful things. First up, St Catherine's Hill is steeper than I remember. Second up, it does have 324 steps up one side. Third up, I desperately need a haircut. The last part of that has been, somewhat brutally, dealt with. The rest of it is something I have to live with.


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So, 67m from bottom to top. Realistically, I want to be doing that 10+ times during a hike to get some upwards miles into my legs. On Saturday I did 3. So going to aim for 4 or 5 next time and see how far I get.

EDIT: turns out my mapping app supports capturing vertical gain during a trip and that, all told, I did 357m of vertical elevation gain on Saturday. Which I'm feeling a lot happier about. 357m is a much better place to start. We can work with that.

Kettlebell

Another training aid which I can completely swear by is the humble kettlebell. Of which we now have a 16kg in our office. The perfect tool to build cooperating muscle groups and coordination. I can do a few sets between compiles and (maybe) take with me on a walk up and down the 7 floors of this building.

The one I picked up is a little bit heavy in the handle for my liking but for something that'll occupy the odd spare minute it should be fine. My main concern is being unable to hold the handles properly on the foosball table afterwards.

Dogfood

As part of my training I thought I'd indulge in a spot of corporate loyalty via capturing routes on my Nexus One. Here's the result. Should make for some interesting maps.


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Learning to Walk

When I was 18 we had a guy called Keith Haig come to give a lesson at our Tae Kwon-Do club. Before he even arrived you could tell the sort of regard he was held in by the hushed tones people used to describe him so I was expecting something special. What I didn't expect was how that was to manifest itself. The first thing you noticed about him was the huge knee supports he was wearing (his doctor had been, unsuccessfully, trying to convince him to give up for a number of years). Other than that he was a slight guy. Maybe 5'9 or 10. Then I saw him do a punch and my jaw just dropped. Just a basic punch. The thing you teach to guys the first time they walk into the dojang. The simplest technique you can possibly think of. Something I considered beneath my attention. Something which was easy. But the complete fluid grace with which he delivered this punch left me examining my own agricultural efforts with dismay. Not only did he transform the simplest of techniques into a thing of liquid beauty but the whole room reverberated with it. That single moment made me re-examine the way I trained and my whole attitude to it.

Which leads me to my point. Last night I went for a walk with 5kg ankle weights on. One of the things that I noticed straight away was that my normal walking gait was not the most efficient way of doing things. Staying lower and moving the legs less expended less energy and moved me about as fast. So, now I'm thinking about how to move more economically. To apply the lesson I learned 19 years ago from a slight chap to the everyday task of walking. That walking around in boots and crampons requires can be treated in the same way as that basic punch all those years ago. That I can be better and I shouldn't assume where I can improve.

"An exercise in naive optimism"

Or, to paraphrase, my imagined training plan.

• Day to day tweaks (stuff to blend into my daily routine)
  - 10kg of ballast in my rucksack.
  - 20-30 floors of stairs every day with ankle weights to simulate heavy boots.
• General
  - Swimming. Good for the lungs.
  - Running. Good for the legs and the lungs.
• Specifics
  - Climbing. Not specific to a trekking peak strictly speaking but awesome for strength, flexibility and balance. Plus good practice at handling ropes.
  - Hiking. Near where I live is St Catherine's hill - an Iron Age hillfort. 180ft from top to bottom and featuring a handy series of routes up and down.

And because I'm goal oriented and fully aware of the likelihood of my efforts waning without shorter term goals here are some of the things on the horizon in conveniently chronological order:

• July: JP Morgan Corporate Challenge
  3.5 miles around Battersea Park.
• October: Great South Run
  10 miles around Portsmouth.
• November: Hell Run
  10-12 miles through swampland.
• January: Vertical Rush
  42 floors (plus the Mezzanine) of Tower 42.
• April: Mera Peak
  Big icy rock.

So, there it is. A picturesque tableau of wishful thinking and foolishly recorded targets. If Pete and Andy are game then hopefully I'll be able to wedge a TrailPlus Challenge in there somewhere as well.

Rough Ramblers

Mike: "I had fifteen rocks in my rucksack instead of the regulation five. I knew something was wrong when I got her in the water. She was sitting so low. So low. But I didn't stop, Tim. Fifteen rocks in my rucksack and everyone knew it."

Tim: So what happened when you rolled ?

Mike: "I lost control of the vessel two feet from the shore. As I struggled to right her, I banged into the jetty, damaging the canoe's carcass. The ramble leader had to dive in and rescue me from beneath the canoe."

Time to start making little tweaks to my life to incorporate training into my daily routine. Specificity is the key apparently which means training as closely to the muscles and coordination you'll need. The obvious areas to get started on are:

• Getting used to carrying weight in a rucksack.
• Getting used to heavy boots. This is a twofold thing - first up having a big lump attached to your foot makes you clumsier and more likely to trip (which is a Bad Thing TM on a mountain).Secondly - crampons are heavy and make you walk funny.

To tackle the first of these I've loaded my day to day ruck sack with 10kgs of ballast. This is proving to be a rather pointed lesson in how far I have to go.

Mera Peak

Some numbers:
Mera Peak 6,476m tall (21,247 ft) - which is 3,338 of me stood on top of each other.
Located in the Himalayas in Nepal. At that altitude there is 46% of the oxygen available at sea level. You need to drink 3-4 litres of water a day to avoid getting dehydrated. Temperatures can drop as low as -25C.

It was first climbed in 1953. Technically, it's classified as a trekking peak which, hopefully, means less opportunities for me to stab myself with crampons or my ice axe but the last day will all be on snow and ice.

In the footsteps of Shipton

I was lucky enough to pick up a copy of the Six Mountain Travel Books written by Eric Shipton. One of the prevailing themes was of the fulfillment of being in the wilderness for the sake of it. Of the excitement of setting out to explore something for the sake of it.

He is lucky who, in the full tide of life, has experienced a measure of the active environment he most desires. In these days of upheaval and violent change, when the basic values of today are the vain and shattered dreams of tomorrow, there is much to be said for a philosophy which aims at living a full life while the opportunity offers.


There are few treasures of more lasting worth than the experience of a way of life that is in itself wholly satisfying. Such, after all, are the only possessions of which no fate, no cosmic catastrophe can deprive us; nothing can alter the fact if for one moment in eternity we have really lived.

I was able to go to Nepal in 2007 on a trip to Everest Base Camp. Reading Shipton's travels re-ignited the wanderlust in me. The urge to be back in the mountains. To be surrounded by awe inspiring pieces of rock. To wonder if I'm going to able to push myself one step further upwards and what will be revealed when that next blank of cloud rolls over.

So this is my tale of the journey from the moment of decision. Today 16th May 2010. To Mera Peak in Nepal in April 2011. Along the way I'm hoping to learn something about myself and what drives me. If I make it up the mountain I cannot think of a better reward than a breath catching view. If not then 3 weeks in the Himalayas sounds like a great place to be. Either way I will need to find reserves in myself I've never tapped before.