Greetings from Gros Morne,
Some dreams take longer to percolate than others. I had hoped to ascend Gros Morne as part of the Long Range Traverse in 1996 but there were no transmitters available so we were limited to camping at the end of Western Brook Pond. The seed was planted however, and it’s been waiting for the right conditions to finally germinate. Today in a downpour, that seed like many of the mushrooms I studied over the weekend, popped through the forest duff to see the light of day. My, my–I think that paragraph may have had a few too many metaphors but I’m happy to report that after 13 years of wanting and waiting, I finally stood atop the 806 metre iconographic summit of Newfoundland, Gros Morne.
I’d worried that I’d missed another season and thus climbing opportunity. I’m not certain where the summer went–perhaps to renovations and Russia and teaching. When making plans to attend a mushroom foray in Central Newfoundland, Marian and I realized we had a small window of opportunity to make a jaunt over to Rocky Harbour and make the climb. Thanks so much to Todd Wight at the Ocean View Hotel for providing a wonderful basecamp for the climb. Last February, when I spoke at the Hospitality Newfoundland and Labrador Tourism Summit in Corner Brook and Todd had heard that I was wanting to come out for a climb of Gros Morne, he said to be in touch when I was hoping to climb. I’d expressed embarrassment to him that I’d made an attempt on Everest but hadn’t climbed Gros Morne.
With little warning and two bus tours on his doorstep, Todd found room for us at his inn and it’s been such a delight. So often, because I climb at high altitude, climbing means suffering and deprivation. Instead, this climb, I was treated to a wonderful view looking out over the ocean, hot shower, and wonderfully soft sheets. All of which was even better to come “home” to after spending nearly six hours climbing in a downpour. We knew the weather forecast left much to be desired but since this was our only day to climb, we packed lots of layers and made the best of it. Our other option had been camping in the national park campground which would have been fine but what a gift to be treated to the most luxurious base camp I’ve ever climbed from–Thanks again Todd! (http://www.theoceanview.ca/)
I loved the ascent portion of the climb, gaining nearly 2500 feet in 2.5 hours. My knees and ankle complained about coming back down. Found myself fantasizing about the Grouse Grind in North Vancouver where you can gain 3000 feet and then take the gondola back down! I’m pleased with my two climb endurance sessions…they’ve showed me that I’m on track in beginning to ready my mind and body for the challenges ahead.
It’s time to send off a huge installment for the Everest climb next week. You can imagine my disappointment, where in the last week, six speaking engagements (that were going to make a significant contribution to the climbing fund) were cancelled. Add to that the house renos coming in a twice the initial estimate, and my low stress financial road to Everest has grown a few speed bumps. I’m reminding myself that, in the end, “it will all play out in the wash” (mixing a few more metaphors) and there is really no need for stress–just an invitation to get more creative, work a little harder, and stretch myself to ask for support in new venues and settings. As Oma says, “Whatever comes, comes.”
Speaking of Oma, I thought of her often this weekend as I attended the Newfoundland Mushroom Foray. A chance for lay and professional mycologists to get together to learn, seek, share, and talk mushrooms. Marian asked me to come along and I’m glad I went. I am by nature a very curious person and I love to learn new things. I went into the weekend with a history of picking mushrooms with my Oma and Opa when I was a kid but not knowing much about the fungal kingdom. Forty-eight hours in the presence of mushroom aficionados and presto, on the hike today, I was pointing out the Genus Aminita, Russula, and Cortinarius beneath many trees along the trail.
After the big day out in the rain and cold, my eyelids are drooping. Hope you’ve had a good week and I hope to see many of you out for the Launch of Everest 2010: Mountains of Learning on October 8th at the INCO Theatre at MUN at 7:30 pm. Tickets are available from me and at the door.
Thanks for coming along on another fine adventure,
TA
Showing posts with label TA Loeffler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TA Loeffler. Show all posts
Monday, September 14, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Mountain of Learning
September is the month of starting again. In the Northern Hemisphere it’s a time of back to school with all the excitement and anxiety of a new school, new grade, new teacher. In the Southern Hemisphere, it’s a time of spring where the cold days of winter give way to the possibilities of summer. It’s also the month of my Oma’s birthday. She turned 92 on Wednesday.
In honour of Oma’s birthday, I made her special bacon wilted fresh garden salad and plum cake. I was working from memory on both as it had been years since I watched her make either. I did google “German plum cake” and got some guidance on the cake part of things. Later in the day, when I called Oma I told her that I’d baked plum cake. She wondered if I’d made the streusel topping for it. I said, “Oma, the recipe didn’t have streusel on it and I didn’t know how to make it.” She answered, “You don’t need a recipe, you just take soft butter and hand mix flour and sugar into it until it crumbles and falls apart.” “You make it sound so easy Oma,” I replied.
In talking to Oma, it’s clear that her short term memory loss is getting more pronounced but she was proud that she still remembered the important stuff like eating. When talking recipes, she rattled them off easily with an aplomb that comes from making them hundreds of times. This past Mother’s Day, I had a wonderful conversation with Oma. I was saying how amazing it was to still have my grandmother and she said, “Whatever comes, comes!” I said, “Did you ever think you would live to be 91?” She answered, “Oh no, I thought I would be dead at 60 since everyone in my family died early.”
I asked, “What do you think the secret of your long life is?” She thought a moment and replied, “I walked everywhere. And I never overeat. I eat my veggies. And have some sweets every now and again. I never hit the bottle much. Though schnapps are a good cure for an upset stomach and take everything as it comes.” This from my Oma who has been declaring to me since I was ten that she was dying, who can still out walk me, and who was famous for carrying heavy cement bags at the age of 70.
Oma has had a hard life filled with the challenges of beginning over and over again. She was orphaned at the age of six and had to go live with a new family. She survived World War II but lost her home and all belongings. After the war, she immigrated to Canada beginning her life over once again in a new country spending her first year in indentured servitude. Oma’s spent the last decade living without her dear husband with whom she shared life for over fifty years. If anyone in my life knows about starting again, starting over, picking up pieces and going forward, it is my Oma.
Despite all the hardships she’s faced, Oma is a delightful, generous, and loving person. Her voice brightens whenever I call her on the phone. She still grabs my cheeks, pulls me forward, kisses my forehead, and tells me how much she loves me. Oma has always loved reading and learning new things through books. Whenever I travel through Germany, I always try to bring her back German reading material.
I, too, am starting again this September. I am beginning the intense and dedicated training that will prepare me to return to Mount Everest. Climbing the world’s highest peak requires a mountain of inspiration. On my last two climbs, I’ve drawn motivation from my parents. On Pumori, I dedicated my efforts to my mom and her journey of living through breast cancer. On Elbrus, I thought often of my dad and his long battle with prostate cancer. For my second attempt on Everest, I am looking to my Oma, my grandmother Frida Loeffler, for the power, confidence, and strength to tackle such an enormous challenge again. In taking on Everest once more, I know much more clearly the sacrifice, the pain, the focus, and the financial realities of climbing the world’s highest mountain. It is that clear picture that makes it both harder and easier to choose to go back. It is in finding my way through the joys and sorrows of starting again that I will turn to my Oma for motivation for I know how often she has had to start again.
I am naming my Everest Expedition “Mountain of Learning.” As per usual, this name is imbued with multiple meanings. For me, the path of climbing mountains has been a deeply spiritual one. I look to learn from all parts of the expedition from training to approach to the actual climb. I am also an educator. A huge part of this journey has been sharing my learning from the mountains with students both young and old. I will continue with my youth outreach programs encouraging young people to be physically active, to have big dreams, and to read big books. I have heard it said that without reading, there can be no dreams so I plan to become an advocate for literacy and reading as well.
The life lessons on this path have been steep and have moved me to greater understandings of many aspects of my life. This path has also allowed me to give back to the community who supports me through some fundraising efforts. My aim in going back to Everest is to continue to seek learning and share it as it comes. In celebration of Oma’s life and love of learning and in fulfilling a decade’s old dream, I am establishing an award at Memorial University of Newfoundland. The award is called the Everest 2010 Mountain of Learning Experiential Education Award.
This endowed award will support students in pursuing experiential education opportunities in support of their degree programs. I know my education was greatly enhanced by attending Outward Bound, the National Outdoor Leadership School, and other such programs. I often hear of students wanting to seek out such opportunities but the cost stands as a barrier. My dream is that the award will reduce some of the obstacles to such experiences and inspire students to enrich their studies by getting outside the classroom.
The award will be funded through a combination of efforts. I am donating a percentage of each speaking engagement proceeds to the award. I am inviting those who are inspired by my second attempt on Everest to support this worthy cause (donations to the award will be tax deductible). Additionally, I will organize fund-raising events during the next eight months (and beyond) to raise the $11,500 necessary to endow the award. I’m hoping to have this base amount raised by the time I return from Mount Everest in June of 2010.
The first opportunity to support my efforts comes on October 8th. I am hosting a public presentation that will raise funds for both the award and for the trekking team that will accompany me to base camp. You are invited to come celebrate the start of a very exciting journey and to enjoy an evening of images, stories, and entertainment. Tickets are available from TA, the trekking team, and the door. The suggested donation for the ticket is $10-$20. The evening starts at 7:30 pm in the INCO Theatre at Memorial University of Newfoundland (room IIC 2001). I hope to see you there and please help spread the word.
As I mentioned above, intense training has begun. I did my first “climb endurance” session on Thursday where I hiked from Cape Spear to town. I covered the distance of 20 kilometres and 3400 feet of elevation gain in about 5 hours and slept very well that night. I am also running, weight training, and going to step aerobics class. Most importantly, I am stretching (something I am quite averse to) in hopes of keeping injuries at bay. The pace of life will continue to accelerate as training and work and fundraising demands build over the next months. I’m up for the challenge, I have you and Oma on my team, and I look forward to the mountain of learning that is coming my way.
Thanks for your continued support-hope to see you on October 8th and I’ll let you know as soon as there exists the ability to donate to the award online and otherwise.
Have a good week,
TA
PS. For those who have been tracking the renos, we’re on the summit ridge nearing the top but recognize there is still plenty of mountain to tackle in the descent (i.e. cleaning up and reclaiming the house).
In honour of Oma’s birthday, I made her special bacon wilted fresh garden salad and plum cake. I was working from memory on both as it had been years since I watched her make either. I did google “German plum cake” and got some guidance on the cake part of things. Later in the day, when I called Oma I told her that I’d baked plum cake. She wondered if I’d made the streusel topping for it. I said, “Oma, the recipe didn’t have streusel on it and I didn’t know how to make it.” She answered, “You don’t need a recipe, you just take soft butter and hand mix flour and sugar into it until it crumbles and falls apart.” “You make it sound so easy Oma,” I replied.
In talking to Oma, it’s clear that her short term memory loss is getting more pronounced but she was proud that she still remembered the important stuff like eating. When talking recipes, she rattled them off easily with an aplomb that comes from making them hundreds of times. This past Mother’s Day, I had a wonderful conversation with Oma. I was saying how amazing it was to still have my grandmother and she said, “Whatever comes, comes!” I said, “Did you ever think you would live to be 91?” She answered, “Oh no, I thought I would be dead at 60 since everyone in my family died early.”
I asked, “What do you think the secret of your long life is?” She thought a moment and replied, “I walked everywhere. And I never overeat. I eat my veggies. And have some sweets every now and again. I never hit the bottle much. Though schnapps are a good cure for an upset stomach and take everything as it comes.” This from my Oma who has been declaring to me since I was ten that she was dying, who can still out walk me, and who was famous for carrying heavy cement bags at the age of 70.
Oma has had a hard life filled with the challenges of beginning over and over again. She was orphaned at the age of six and had to go live with a new family. She survived World War II but lost her home and all belongings. After the war, she immigrated to Canada beginning her life over once again in a new country spending her first year in indentured servitude. Oma’s spent the last decade living without her dear husband with whom she shared life for over fifty years. If anyone in my life knows about starting again, starting over, picking up pieces and going forward, it is my Oma.
Despite all the hardships she’s faced, Oma is a delightful, generous, and loving person. Her voice brightens whenever I call her on the phone. She still grabs my cheeks, pulls me forward, kisses my forehead, and tells me how much she loves me. Oma has always loved reading and learning new things through books. Whenever I travel through Germany, I always try to bring her back German reading material.
I, too, am starting again this September. I am beginning the intense and dedicated training that will prepare me to return to Mount Everest. Climbing the world’s highest peak requires a mountain of inspiration. On my last two climbs, I’ve drawn motivation from my parents. On Pumori, I dedicated my efforts to my mom and her journey of living through breast cancer. On Elbrus, I thought often of my dad and his long battle with prostate cancer. For my second attempt on Everest, I am looking to my Oma, my grandmother Frida Loeffler, for the power, confidence, and strength to tackle such an enormous challenge again. In taking on Everest once more, I know much more clearly the sacrifice, the pain, the focus, and the financial realities of climbing the world’s highest mountain. It is that clear picture that makes it both harder and easier to choose to go back. It is in finding my way through the joys and sorrows of starting again that I will turn to my Oma for motivation for I know how often she has had to start again.
I am naming my Everest Expedition “Mountain of Learning.” As per usual, this name is imbued with multiple meanings. For me, the path of climbing mountains has been a deeply spiritual one. I look to learn from all parts of the expedition from training to approach to the actual climb. I am also an educator. A huge part of this journey has been sharing my learning from the mountains with students both young and old. I will continue with my youth outreach programs encouraging young people to be physically active, to have big dreams, and to read big books. I have heard it said that without reading, there can be no dreams so I plan to become an advocate for literacy and reading as well.
The life lessons on this path have been steep and have moved me to greater understandings of many aspects of my life. This path has also allowed me to give back to the community who supports me through some fundraising efforts. My aim in going back to Everest is to continue to seek learning and share it as it comes. In celebration of Oma’s life and love of learning and in fulfilling a decade’s old dream, I am establishing an award at Memorial University of Newfoundland. The award is called the Everest 2010 Mountain of Learning Experiential Education Award.
This endowed award will support students in pursuing experiential education opportunities in support of their degree programs. I know my education was greatly enhanced by attending Outward Bound, the National Outdoor Leadership School, and other such programs. I often hear of students wanting to seek out such opportunities but the cost stands as a barrier. My dream is that the award will reduce some of the obstacles to such experiences and inspire students to enrich their studies by getting outside the classroom.
The award will be funded through a combination of efforts. I am donating a percentage of each speaking engagement proceeds to the award. I am inviting those who are inspired by my second attempt on Everest to support this worthy cause (donations to the award will be tax deductible). Additionally, I will organize fund-raising events during the next eight months (and beyond) to raise the $11,500 necessary to endow the award. I’m hoping to have this base amount raised by the time I return from Mount Everest in June of 2010.
The first opportunity to support my efforts comes on October 8th. I am hosting a public presentation that will raise funds for both the award and for the trekking team that will accompany me to base camp. You are invited to come celebrate the start of a very exciting journey and to enjoy an evening of images, stories, and entertainment. Tickets are available from TA, the trekking team, and the door. The suggested donation for the ticket is $10-$20. The evening starts at 7:30 pm in the INCO Theatre at Memorial University of Newfoundland (room IIC 2001). I hope to see you there and please help spread the word.
As I mentioned above, intense training has begun. I did my first “climb endurance” session on Thursday where I hiked from Cape Spear to town. I covered the distance of 20 kilometres and 3400 feet of elevation gain in about 5 hours and slept very well that night. I am also running, weight training, and going to step aerobics class. Most importantly, I am stretching (something I am quite averse to) in hopes of keeping injuries at bay. The pace of life will continue to accelerate as training and work and fundraising demands build over the next months. I’m up for the challenge, I have you and Oma on my team, and I look forward to the mountain of learning that is coming my way.
Thanks for your continued support-hope to see you on October 8th and I’ll let you know as soon as there exists the ability to donate to the award online and otherwise.
Have a good week,
TA
PS. For those who have been tracking the renos, we’re on the summit ridge nearing the top but recognize there is still plenty of mountain to tackle in the descent (i.e. cleaning up and reclaiming the house).
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Momentum: Bodies in Motion TA's Weekly Update 8.23.09
>Howdy,
Sitting here typing with blue stained finger tips having picked and processed 15 litres of blueberries. Marian, Nolan, and I had a fine time wondering through the Tilton Barrens on a dual mission of checking out an orienteering map and picking blueberries. When I looked at the upload of data from my new Garmin Forerunner 305, I noticed that blueberry picking got much more of our attention. The Garmin is a training tool that is a combination of heart rate monitor and GPS. It tracks how far, how fast, and how fast my heart beats. It is already giving me new windows into and understanding of my training. Using a heart rate monitor allows me to work out in a specific heart-rate zone to give my various energy systems an opportunity to grow stronger and more efficient.
By uploading the data to the Garmin Connects site, I can view the terrain I covered. If you'd like to see the berry-picking track, you can click here. http://bit.ly/4h103p If you zoom in (by pushing the plus button) you'll see the little squiggles that I made when pursing the almighty blue antioxidant and breakfast staple. In just a few days of having it, I can see that I'm going to use the new toy (tool) when teaching students about backcountry navigation. It's both invigorating and a challenge to keep current with all the technology that exists for outdoor recreation these days. What in the past may have been ten essentials may have grown to 15 or 20 now.
It was a bit of a post-partum week after Camp Glow, the valley after a peak experience. Fortunately, I knew that was likely so did my best to wait it out. The house renos made big leaps forward this week and I think the summit ridge may just be visible through the clouds ahead. I got a few long standing house projects done and that felt good.
Training is moving forward. My running distances are slowly growing and the ankle mostly does pretty well. I get some soreness and stiffness with it and on occasion, the other leg hurts in the same place for solidarity even though it's never been injured (bodies are funny things).
I notice that training begets training. As I get back to a more disciplined approach, it gets easier to be disciplined. As my training schedule becomes more routine, I find it easier to get it done. As I begin to sense training and strength gains, I get excited to do more. Momentum is key. I see that more and more. I am a creature of momentum. I like to create it and use it to keep things moving forward.
If I (or a project) lose momentum, I notice how hard it is to pick it up again and get it going once more. Sometimes things go on the wayside for weeks, months or years, half done…just waiting for a hit of energy to see them through. With this insight of late, I'm more choosey. I don't start things if I don't have the time or energy to see them through. I try to not split my attention too many ways. I am simplifying my existence so that I can focus my momentum on nurturing the most critical tasks through to completion.
Inertia is hard to overcome…both personally and in training but once I have some of that momentum I've been talking about, I tend to remain in motion. I like to use the "body in motion" trick to manage all the things I need to pull off but also have learned that sometimes "a body must remain at rest." My life as a science experiment!
Not feeling all that articulate today so I'll sign off knowing that in almost seven short months to the day, I will be arriving in Kathmandu to start another Everest adventure.
Take care,
TA
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Everything I Ever Needed to Know about Climbing Everest, I Learned at Firefighter Camp TA's Weekly Update August 16, 2009
After a full and intense week, it's good to sit a spell and reflect on all the rich lessons I received this week. In the course of my climbing training, I've opted to pursue "Ring of Fire" challenges as I've called them; tasks and experiences that require me climbing outside my comfort zone into the heat of an uncomfortable place. I believe it's critical for me to practice being uncomfortable since life at high altitude is so frequently filled with discomfort.
This week I stepped directed into some rings of fire, ones that were actually burning, in fact. Thanks to the Women Resource Development Committee and the Marine Institute, I had the great privilege of attending Camp Glow. Camp Glow (Group Learning for Outgoing Women http://www.mi.mun.ca/campglow/ ) is a five-day firefighting camp for women that introduces many aspects of firefighting. Our group ranged in age from 19-50 and was lead by Krista Parsons Butler and Mary Clarke.
We began the week learning to don bunker gear and finished it fighting a twenty-foot wall of flames. Along the way, each of us faced intense moments of fear invoked for some by being lowered over a 40 foot wall, searching a dark and smoke-filled building, or crawling through ever diminishing tunnels. Each woman had her own way of navigating the maze of emotions and thoughts that arose along the way. Some got quiet. Some cracked jokes. Some cheered loudly and others charged boldly forward.
My younger brother, Mike, is a career firefighter with the Edmonton Fire and Rescue Services. I have always harboured a secret dream to follow his footsteps into the firefighting profession. This week I got to spend five days in his boots and now have even more respect and appreciation of the work he does. Mike is on the high angle rescue team and it's very evident that we have expressed our shared love of high places in different ways but I was glad to spend the week thinking so fondly of my younger bro. Seen together, we are often asked if we are twins. After this week, I would answer…twins separated at birth by six years. Thanks Mike for being my inspiration this week.
This morning, as I completed my long run, I reflected on the week and thought I might turn to Robert Fulghum (All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten) for the format of how I might share the lessons of the week.
Everything I Ever Needed to Know about Climbing Everest, I Learned at Firefighter Camp.
All I really need to know about how to climb Everest and what to do and how to be I learned at Camp Glow. Wisdom was not at the top of the mountain, but there in the orange glow of team spirit and firelight.
These are the things I learned at fire school that I will take to the mountain:
• Check and recheck your gear because your life depends on it. Shakedown is key–make sure all the pieces work together.
• Practice doesn't make perfect, instead it makes us faster and more confident. Time can be gained through fitness but also through putting all the pieces together more efficiently.
• Different fires are fought in different ways. Always use the right extinguisher and technique for the fire you are fighting. Using the wrong one can feed the fire and make the job of putting out much more difficult.
• Keep contact with the wall and your buddy–they are your safety system for getting out when you can't see a thing.
• Stay low–fire and gases will go high. Seek respite in safe pockets.
• Fire and smoke cannot penetrate a water wall. Use one to protect yourself, your teammates, and your retreat.
• Always know and plan the ways you can get out of a fire and get out before it is too late.
• Don't over-think it. Use the skills you've been taught to manage the intense feelings that arise when heading into a burning building.
• Our minds are our greatest tools and our greatest enemies. When donning bunker gear, just ignore how hot it is–just get the job done without paying attention to how miserable you are.
• Together we can achieve things we cannot on our own. Teammates are deep sources for inspiration, protection, perspiration, and shared joys and loses. Don't ever enter a burning building without a buddy and a team behind you.
Everything I need to know for Everest is in there somewhere: The Golden Rule and teamwork and basic guidelines for coming home alive. Take any one of those items and extrapolate it into sophisticated climbing terms and it holds true and clear and firm. And it is still true, no matter how old we are, when we go out on a climb, it is best to rope up and stick together.
Thanks to all the sponsors of Camp Glow, the program volunteers, my teammates, and especially to the skilled instructors who guided us along the terrain of firefighting. I am sure there will be times next April and May, when I need a hit of inspiration that my mind will turn to the amazing week I spent learning firefighting (and climbing) at Camp Glow.
With gratitude,
TA
PS. The challenges of reno chaos continue…piles of stuff, coal dust, and building supplies block easy passage through the house. We think we finally have a bathroom vanity that will work with the unique space of our 100 year old bathroom and the drywall is back up…perhaps the summit ridge is in sight.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Flash Rust: TA's Weekly Update August 9, 2009
Howdy,
Catching a few minutes pause between coats of rust-inhibiting paint on our old claw foot tub. It got moved out on the deck on Friday and I've had intimate lessons in the concept of flash rust. Basically, one shouldn't sand or grind a metal object one intends to paint until just before you paint it. If you sand early and it rains say, you get a "flash rust" lesson and you get to sand and grind and wire wheel more than you did the first time. It was a little like making a carry at high altitude, I got to cover the same ground over and over again.
But now, there are two coats of paint on the tub and it only sprinkled some rain to bring up our heart rates (the paint said-it shouldn't have rain touch it for 24 hours) so the tub is doing a good imitation of an orange ghost or a rather misshapen pumpkin by hiding out under one of our camping tarps.
Speaking of camping, Marian and I have been "camping" in our house since Friday when they removed the main drainage stack and plumbing in the bathroom. No water, no sewer, no toilet. Frankly, it's easier to camp outdoors where you can go off and find a fine spot to take care of business. Instead we are making well-timed visits to local restaurants and schlepping our camping pee bottles with us to work when we head there for a shower.
Now that all the demolition has been done (and of course, it was more extensive than anyone had imagined-when planning renos double the time and triple the budget), they can start putting everything back together again starting tomorrow with the hope of water by Wednesday. So as you can see, my week was consumed by renos…either waiting for deliveries, making upteen visits to building supply stores, consults with "da guys," painting, sanding, cutting quarter-round (thank god Marian has more spatial intelligence than I or we might still be up in the new study…the new floor looks fab!), and collapsing our existence into every smaller and smaller spaces as the reno virus spread. Pockets of sanity in the house are harder to find-rather like taking a layover on a big expedition where a metaphoric bomb goes off and things explode from your backpack to be found, dried, and organized before the next big storm rolls through.
Apart from the urban adventure of renos, I've managed three runs this week. The ankle is doing well in taking on the new activity. It's been great to back at it and I've reconnected with old running/training routes in the early morning. It reminds me that I do know how to train. I feel rather like the new cork floor that got laid down on the third floor this week, that I am laying a foundation of gentle discipline.
I'm reminding myself and relearning about how to make training happen in my new life as part of partnership. When I lived alone, I could train just about any time but now I'm sorting through how to fit training in around all the other joys of life like sharing a yummy breakfast on a sun-drenched deck amid the basil and oregano. I figure August is foundation time–training in a summer pace–amid plenty of flower-smelling and reno-projecting.
I thought I would make another invite for folks to join me on the trek into Everest base camp. There is a trek at the beginning of the expedition that meets in Kathmandu on March 30 and last about 2.5 weeks. There are four or five folks already signed up to trek in with me at that point. There is also another trek leaving May 1 that will hit base camp right about summit bid time…more info on these treks can be found on the Peak Freaks website: http://peakfreaks.com/ebc_trek.htm and I would be happy to answer any questions about the experience as well.
I also have a friend who is considering trekking in sometime in May who is going to work with my friend Raj to create a trek and she is looking for a traveling companion as well. If you'd like to trek in a very small group, let me know and I will patch the two of you together. Peak Freaks has been holding spots for friends of mine, which they will release soon so I wanted to put one last invite out to join us on the amazing journey to Everest! I'm touched that folks are going to great lengths to come along and I can't wait to show them one of my favourite places in the world.
Finally, a climbing friend of mine, Alan Arnette has a mountain-sized ambition to climb the seven summits while raising a million dollars for Alzheimer's research. He's also hoping some folks will join him on some of the climbs. I'm thinking I will do my best to climb Mount Vinson with Alan in November of 2010 (a better length of time for raising the funds than this year I concluded). If you are thinking of climbing Kilimanjaro, this might be a great opportunity and great cause to support.
Please check out Alan's project at http://www.alanarnette.com/alzheimer/memories7summits.php
Have a great week. Time to give the tub another coat of paint and then log my training hours.
TA
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Elbrus: Climbing for my Dad
Greetings from Victoria Day,
We call it the 2-4 Weekend in Newfoundland since Queen Victoria’s birthday was on the 24th. This year the 24th actually fell on a weekend but we’re having the holiday the weekend before, go figure! I’m grateful to have a day to catch my breath. I seem to find it harder these days to get everything into a day that I think should. I’m back teaching and trying to train a bit each day so I’m falling into bed a wee bit tired.
I spent the weekend at a Buddhist study program where we are learning about what are called the Four Dignities. It’s a study of energies and actions. At one point we were studying the interaction of time, season, and natural elements. I had an “a ha” moment when we were discussing the various energies of water, fire, air, earth, and wind. As I’ve reflected on my time in the Grand Canyon, I realize I have been missing the water. It had been awhile since I spent a significant amount of time on/beside/with water. The Colorado River is an amazing body of water that models its ability to flow, dance, march, pulsate, and churn down it’s course.
At one point on our backpacking trip, Ann Marie and I spent hours trying to find words to describe the sights and sounds of a Grand Canyon rapid. Each sentence we tried wasn’t quite it. We wanted the cacophonous roar, the frothy white, the unceasing journey, the dancing spray…obviously I’m still looking for the words. But I touched back into the sensation of being at the head of rapid slipping gently on the pooled pillow of water energy seemingly unmoving while at the same time careening towards the unknown in the chaotic froth below. We would do our best to be set up well and then basically it was ride out whatever comes.
Speaking of “whatever comes”, I had a wonderful conversation with my Grandmother (Oma) last weekend on Mother’s Day. I was saying how amazing it was to still have my Oma and she said, “Whatever comes, comes!” I said, “Did you ever think you would live to be 91?” She answered, “Oh no, I thought I would be dead at 60 since everyone in my family died early.”
I asked, “What do you think the secret of your long life is?” She thought a moment and replied, “I walked everywhere. And I never overeat. I eat my veggies. And have some sweets every now and again. I never hit the bottle much. Though schnapps are a good cure for an upset stomach and take everything as it comes.” This from my Oma would has been declaring to me since I was ten that she was dying, who can still out walk me, and who was famous for carrying heavy cement bags at the age of 70.
At Christmas, I dropped over to see Oma. She said, “I’ll pour you some schnapps.” This tradition first began when I was six and visiting. She would take me down to their basement bar and pour me a small sip of some overly sweet cocktail and regale me with stories. She went over to her liquor cabinet-she had to bed over to get look into it. She had no schnapps, only brandy. So she poured me one into a snifter. I said, “Oma, aren’t you going to have one.” She said, “Oh noooo, the ladies downstairs might think I am an alcoholic.”
A little while later, she tottered back over the cabinet and grabbed the bottle and took a swig right out of the bottle. I said, “Oma, I could get you a glass.” She replied, “No, it’s OK, I just needed a little schlooka (German word for swig that I have no idea how to spell) of brandy since the world is just a bit fuzzy. I think it’s from bending over and this will make me feel better.” “OK, Oma whatever you wish,” I said raising my glass towards her. Oma is my dad’s mother.
Elbrus: Climbing for my Dad
In six weeks, I’ll head over to Russia to climb Mount Elbrus. My Opa (Oma’s husband) was a prisoner of war in Russia so I will think of him as I travel there. I’ll also be thinking of my dad, Heinz. When I think back to being a young girl, growing up in the seventies, I am so grateful to my dad. He included me in all of his activities. Looking through our family photo albums, I see pictures of me seeing beside him on a garage roof with my plastic hammer at age four. I see us changing off the winter tires of the car. We cast lead bullets and then shot them from historic black powder rifles. He taught me to clean fish and always select the right tool for the job. He coached me in water skiing and snow skiing, SCUBA diving, and throwing. My dad expected me to get my work done before I played and he knew I was strong and capable of lifting lots.
I thank my dad for all of this and more because I know those experiences are woven together in me forming the weft on which the confidence I have to undertake my adventures is woven. It is the skill I have in using tools and operating machinery that supports my technical skills and creation of climbing systems. It is his vision that life should include a little of this and a little of that, that inspired me to be a generalist with skills and knowledge in many activities rather than just one.
My dad, like my mom, has had to struggle with a cancer journey. He actually was diagnosed first with prostate cancer and mom was diagnosed with breast cancer six months later. My dad has endured surgery, hormone therapy and chemotherapy. Throughout the years, he’s managed to keep his sense of humour and ability to face whatever comes. It is time for me now to lend some strength and confidence back to my dad. My dad’s birthday and Father’s Day are both in June.
In honour of my dad, Heinz, and in honour of all fathers, I am dedicating my climb of Elbrus to my dad. I’m calling it, “Elbrus: Climbing for My Dad.” I would like to raise awareness of prostate cancer and to raise funds for the Canadian Prostate Cancer Network (CPCN). This non-profit association provides “The Voice for Prostate Cancer” in Canada and offers men and their families support for the journey of prostate cancer. I am speaking to their national conference here in St. John’s in September about the life lessons I’ve learned from both climbing and my dad.
Given the current economic climate, I’ve chosen a moderate goal of raising $1000 for the CPCN. Again like Pumori: Climb for Awareness, none of the money will go towards climbing expenses.
To donate to Elbrus: Climbing for My Dad, please click on the following link: http://www.cpcn.org/honour_form.asp
Click the “In Honour” button and please fill out “Elbrus: Climbing for my Dad.” For the acknowledgment card, please use my address (I don’t want to beam out my parent’s address for all to see in cyberspace). I’ll forward all the acknowledgments to my dad.
TA Loeffler
7 Wood Street
St. John’s, NL
A1C 3K8
Thanks in advance of your support of this worthy cause. I just made the first donation to the climb. If you are uncomfortable with donating online, please click this link for a downloadable form that you can mail in: http://www.cpcn.org/03_how_to_donate.htm.
I know by dedicating my efforts on Mount Elbrus to my dad and all dads, I will be infused with new energy and focus for the climb. Speaking of which, I should get off my chair and start training. Have a good week,
TA
We call it the 2-4 Weekend in Newfoundland since Queen Victoria’s birthday was on the 24th. This year the 24th actually fell on a weekend but we’re having the holiday the weekend before, go figure! I’m grateful to have a day to catch my breath. I seem to find it harder these days to get everything into a day that I think should. I’m back teaching and trying to train a bit each day so I’m falling into bed a wee bit tired.
I spent the weekend at a Buddhist study program where we are learning about what are called the Four Dignities. It’s a study of energies and actions. At one point we were studying the interaction of time, season, and natural elements. I had an “a ha” moment when we were discussing the various energies of water, fire, air, earth, and wind. As I’ve reflected on my time in the Grand Canyon, I realize I have been missing the water. It had been awhile since I spent a significant amount of time on/beside/with water. The Colorado River is an amazing body of water that models its ability to flow, dance, march, pulsate, and churn down it’s course.
At one point on our backpacking trip, Ann Marie and I spent hours trying to find words to describe the sights and sounds of a Grand Canyon rapid. Each sentence we tried wasn’t quite it. We wanted the cacophonous roar, the frothy white, the unceasing journey, the dancing spray…obviously I’m still looking for the words. But I touched back into the sensation of being at the head of rapid slipping gently on the pooled pillow of water energy seemingly unmoving while at the same time careening towards the unknown in the chaotic froth below. We would do our best to be set up well and then basically it was ride out whatever comes.
Speaking of “whatever comes”, I had a wonderful conversation with my Grandmother (Oma) last weekend on Mother’s Day. I was saying how amazing it was to still have my Oma and she said, “Whatever comes, comes!” I said, “Did you ever think you would live to be 91?” She answered, “Oh no, I thought I would be dead at 60 since everyone in my family died early.”I asked, “What do you think the secret of your long life is?” She thought a moment and replied, “I walked everywhere. And I never overeat. I eat my veggies. And have some sweets every now and again. I never hit the bottle much. Though schnapps are a good cure for an upset stomach and take everything as it comes.” This from my Oma would has been declaring to me since I was ten that she was dying, who can still out walk me, and who was famous for carrying heavy cement bags at the age of 70.
At Christmas, I dropped over to see Oma. She said, “I’ll pour you some schnapps.” This tradition first began when I was six and visiting. She would take me down to their basement bar and pour me a small sip of some overly sweet cocktail and regale me with stories. She went over to her liquor cabinet-she had to bed over to get look into it. She had no schnapps, only brandy. So she poured me one into a snifter. I said, “Oma, aren’t you going to have one.” She said, “Oh noooo, the ladies downstairs might think I am an alcoholic.”
A little while later, she tottered back over the cabinet and grabbed the bottle and took a swig right out of the bottle. I said, “Oma, I could get you a glass.” She replied, “No, it’s OK, I just needed a little schlooka (German word for swig that I have no idea how to spell) of brandy since the world is just a bit fuzzy. I think it’s from bending over and this will make me feel better.” “OK, Oma whatever you wish,” I said raising my glass towards her. Oma is my dad’s mother.
Elbrus: Climbing for my Dad
In six weeks, I’ll head over to Russia to climb Mount Elbrus. My Opa (Oma’s husband) was a prisoner of war in Russia so I will think of him as I travel there. I’ll also be thinking of my dad, Heinz. When I think back to being a young girl, growing up in the seventies, I am so grateful to my dad. He included me in all of his activities. Looking through our family photo albums, I see pictures of me seeing beside him on a garage roof with my plastic hammer at age four. I see us changing off the winter tires of the car. We cast lead bullets and then shot them from historic black powder rifles. He taught me to clean fish and always select the right tool for the job. He coached me in water skiing and snow skiing, SCUBA diving, and throwing. My dad expected me to get my work done before I played and he knew I was strong and capable of lifting lots.I thank my dad for all of this and more because I know those experiences are woven together in me forming the weft on which the confidence I have to undertake my adventures is woven. It is the skill I have in using tools and operating machinery that supports my technical skills and creation of climbing systems. It is his vision that life should include a little of this and a little of that, that inspired me to be a generalist with skills and knowledge in many activities rather than just one.
My dad, like my mom, has had to struggle with a cancer journey. He actually was diagnosed first with prostate cancer and mom was diagnosed with breast cancer six months later. My dad has endured surgery, hormone therapy and chemotherapy. Throughout the years, he’s managed to keep his sense of humour and ability to face whatever comes. It is time for me now to lend some strength and confidence back to my dad. My dad’s birthday and Father’s Day are both in June.
In honour of my dad, Heinz, and in honour of all fathers, I am dedicating my climb of Elbrus to my dad. I’m calling it, “Elbrus: Climbing for My Dad.” I would like to raise awareness of prostate cancer and to raise funds for the Canadian Prostate Cancer Network (CPCN). This non-profit association provides “The Voice for Prostate Cancer” in Canada and offers men and their families support for the journey of prostate cancer. I am speaking to their national conference here in St. John’s in September about the life lessons I’ve learned from both climbing and my dad.
Given the current economic climate, I’ve chosen a moderate goal of raising $1000 for the CPCN. Again like Pumori: Climb for Awareness, none of the money will go towards climbing expenses.
To donate to Elbrus: Climbing for My Dad, please click on the following link: http://www.cpcn.org/honour_form.asp
Click the “In Honour” button and please fill out “Elbrus: Climbing for my Dad.” For the acknowledgment card, please use my address (I don’t want to beam out my parent’s address for all to see in cyberspace). I’ll forward all the acknowledgments to my dad.
TA Loeffler
7 Wood Street
St. John’s, NL
A1C 3K8
Thanks in advance of your support of this worthy cause. I just made the first donation to the climb. If you are uncomfortable with donating online, please click this link for a downloadable form that you can mail in: http://www.cpcn.org/03_how_to_donate.htm.
I know by dedicating my efforts on Mount Elbrus to my dad and all dads, I will be infused with new energy and focus for the climb. Speaking of which, I should get off my chair and start training. Have a good week,
TA
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
