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

Taking Community to New Heights

Greetings from a Beautiful Winter Morn,

We don’t get to see the sun much in winter and so when it shines, it’s not hard to stop and take notice. We’ve been having a wild winter with temperature swings from plus 17 to minus 15. This is the time of year where I pay even closer attention to the weather because I am teaching my winter outdoor activities class and as much as I’d like to plan out each class at the beginning of the course, I have to wait and see what the weather has in store for us.

The class is really large this term so I’ll be camping out with students over the next three weekends. It will give me a chance to check out my gear systems for my polar expedition. I leave in four weeks for Iqaluit and temperatures that can drop to minus 50 so all the cold weather practice I can get is good. I’ve continued to practice with my tire. I can’t say it’s gotten much easier to pull it up Signal Hill but at least I can say a few more words aloud as I ascend instead of just grasping for breath. The other day a friend said, “TA make sure you tell ‘em that you are not only hauling a tire–you’re hauling it with its rim!”

I’ve been struggling some with symptoms of carpal tunnel…waking at night with my hands either numb or on fire. I’ve gained new appreciation for “nerve pain” and the intensity of sensation that our nervous systems can create. I’m visiting various members of my medical support team, splitting my wrists at night, using anti-inflammatories, and thinking healing thoughts. In reading more about the disease, I was filled with fear of loss of function and strength in my hands and humbled at how quickly we can move from ability to disability. With the things I am doing thus far, it seems to be settling some and may be related to my period so I’ll keep you posted. The picture of being a mountaineer who can’t hold her ice axe is one I hope I don’t have to get used to.

During presentations, while showing the audience a picture of me in the hamster ball down at the stadium, I often say, “When you take on your Everest, you never know where the path will lead.” I had another of those experiences lately when I found myself in a soundproof black box professing my love for eggs. For 2009, I am the public face/voice for the Newfoundland and Labrador Egg Producers board. Though I have progressed in my comfort in hearing and seeing myself in the media, I may have to cover my ears the first few times I hear myself in the commercial. I’ve never been in a commercial before!

Last week, the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation (CBCF) flag, found its way back to St. John’s thanks to Hugo Searle who volunteered to carry it to the summit of Pumori for me. As you’ll remember, it turns out that both he and I carried it to the same spot because of dangerous snow conditions on the summit ridge. The entire team was forced to retreat from Camp One. Before they descended, the team released the roll of prayer flags I had given them for the summit, by throwing them over the ridge. They captured the moment in a picture.

Friday I spoke at the “Beat the Blahs” event for the CBCF. The audience sat spellbound as I told the story of being able to hold it together at Pumori base camp in the face of the huge emotion of telling the team I was leaving to head for the 3M retreat. The emotion was in check until Hugo asked if there was anything he could carry to the summit for me. At that point, my voice cracked and welcomed the tears that were just simmering below the surface. When I needed to stop, my teammates picked up and carried on for me. One member even volunteered to go into the kitchen to get some red curry powder to make his hair pink to match mine.

Seeing the audience’s reaction to the stories of the expedition and knowing that we had raised over $5500 to help create a future without breast cancer filled me with a tremendous sense of joy and satisfaction and brought me to a new way of thinking.
In the past, I’ve participated in "Community Supported Agriculture" by buying shares in an organic farm’s harvest. From that inspiration of community members supporting farmers, I have been exploring the idea of "Community Supported Adventure." I imagine community coming to the support of adventurers, enabling them to go out and explore and bring back images, stories, and lessons from mountains and seas and everything in between.

Since it is not always possible for everyone to follow his or her yearnings for exploration and adventure, these shared journeys can bring communities together across time, space, and kilometers. In return, adventurers can support community by raising awareness and funds through their adventures. On Friday night when I told the story of climbing Pumori in honour of my mom and in support of the CBCF-Atlantic, I felt a new sense of possibility and responsibility for my climbs and adventures to “give back.” I aim to continue to support the community that supports me.

I continue to work on unfolding the climbing and adventure schedule that will lead me back to Everest. I’m in the final stages of setting my a return to Mount Elbrus, Europe’s highest peak in July and trying to mount the courage to reach for Vinson next fall/early winter (courage is needed because of its huge price tag).

I’ll close for this week–I have some course prep to get to and want to catch some of the sun before a cloud swallows it up. Thanks for your continued support.

TA

PS. I still have a few “Climb for Awareness” toques that need a home. Proceeds from the sale of the toques benefit the CBCF so drop me a line if you’d like to give one a home.

Pink Hair!

Happy Fall Equinox,

“You weren’t aiming for pretty, were you?” exclaimed the one stylist to Melissa, the woman who kindly volunteered to turn my hair rosy. We all cracked up as I said, “Nothing about this past week has been about pretty.” It was Friday afternoon and the culmination of a most amazing week. That morning the executive of the Human Kinetics and Recreation Society has been in my office, dressed in pink props, presenting me with a cheque for $500. Theirs, along with a few others that day, insured we met the goal of reaching the halfway mark of the climb’s fundraising goal and I would be keeping my two o’clock appointment at Signature Salon.

I wasn’t sure who was more nervous, Paula or I. We gone for a celebratory lunch at the Casbah where a woman at the neighbouring table was overhead saying, “Look we get to sit by the angel.” Personally I was identifying as “Madame Butterfly” that day. I’d spent the morning leading a teaching seminar for grad students and I must said they looked a bit aghast as a pink winged, wild panted, scarf wearing professor showed up at the front of their classroom.

The process started with stripping the dark brown from my hair turning it into golden yellow. We joked that I could assume the moniker “Golden Rod” and that it wouldn’t be good to stop the process there. Melissa decided to leave the roots brown to provide shadow and texture for my face (and I thought–“That will give me a head start on growing it out.”). Paula snapped picture after picture of the process and seemed quite pleased that I was about to be transformed into a coral-topped wonder. As Melissa applied the first stroke of colour, Paula turned a very pale shade of pink, threw her hands in front of her face, and didn’t say a word for 15 minutes. At that moment, I became a tad bit worried.

After the rest of the almost nuclear glowing pink dye was applied, I was wrapped in cellophane and tucked under the hair dryer to cook. For twenty minutes, I reflected on what it must be like to be undergoing cancer treatment and face the unknown, to face the loss of hair and identity, and to not have much choice about what was unfolding. It was then that I calmed down and knew that having pink hair was not going to be a big deal. Although the dye was permanent, my hair would grow and a few months from now, I’ll be back to a full head of regular colored hair.

When Melissa rinsed the dye from my head, pink bubbles abounded and Paula came back to life. A photographer and writer from MUN dropped by and we had fun regaling them of stories from the week. My day glow hair emerged and as Melissa dried and styled it I could see a mix of reactions on the other stylists faces-ranging from bemused grin to abject horror.

Paula and I stepped out unto the street for some pictures and she asked me to don some lipstick to complete the hair, scarf, lip trilogy and I initially refused. It had been a huge week of being out on my edge and I was tired. I refused a few more times but eventually gave it and took the lipstick and mirror. I puckered my lips and instantly Paula grasped the situation, I truly had no idea of how to put on lipstick. We laughed until our guts almost spilled out on the sidewalk and then I turned my back to try to put some on. Again, Paula was in near convulsive laughter as she noticed that I held the lipstick solid and moved my head around to apply it!.

I rushed home as I was giving the rally speech for the Take Back the Night march that evening and tried to sort out what to wear. I finally settled on a black jacket and black pants since it’s sometimes hard to get shades of pink to match. I gave an on-camera interview with NTV just before the march began and the interviewer seemed to take my pink locks in stride (unlike most of my friends who saw me there.) I’ve been wearing black since and with my return to a normal wardrobe, I easily forget that I’m doing an imitation of a flamingo with a mullet.

Thanks to all who supported Pink Outside the Box this week-your generosity allowed us to get to base camp with the overall campaign (perhaps even camp one). The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation-Atlantic will put the funds to very good use in trying to create a future that is free from breast cancer. Special thanks to Paula Tessier for all of her support and efforts this week and to Marian Wissink who followed me around on a busy week to capture Pink Outside the Box in pictures. Click here and here to see images from the week.

The week was full of “Ring of Fire” moments and times of wonderful connection. I had so many conversations that would not have occurred if I hadn’t taken on the challenge of both climbing Pumori and dressing in pink. There are so many stories to tell but given my to-do needs to have a few items taken off it, I’ll share just a few of my highlights…the moments that will stand out for years to come.

• Playing ball hockey with pink wings on my back and hearing my teammates call out, “Go Wings, fly up that court.”
• Having Sarah give me pink laces to stick in my skates and Cherry and I rip out my old laces in record time to get the new ones in before the zamboni got off the ice.
• Hiding in the pink carnations at the dollar store and being able to blend in.
• Having Wanda come to an early morning training hike in pink pajamas as support to me and having a WOKies Pink Happy Hour (Thanks, AM).
• Wearing a belly dancing skirt that arrived in the nick of time from Qatar on a morning training hike above Quidi Vidi and realizing I would never use an ordinary bear bell again.
• Being moved by a groundswell of support and receiving pink wings, sunglasses, hair curlers, purses, lipstick, and shell bra to wear this week.
• Seeing Joanna’s face at the arena when she saw me playing hockey in her pink gloves.
• Getting a lesson from Steph and Megan in the many ways to wear a scarf and being amazed that I said, “This is a nice scarf.”
• Realizing that at the end of the week, I can imagine wearing pink, that I look pretty darn good in pink, and that it’s always good to try new things and new colours because you never know where they will lead.

I leave for Nepal a week from tomorrow. I had a pretty good week training and capped off the preparations for doing a ten ascent sequence on Signal Hill. Joined by many of the WOKies and a few others, I climbed the road leading to the top of Signal Hill, carrying my 55-pound pack, ten times. It took about 4 hours of climbing and I gained 4500 feet of elevation in that time. I wasn’t sure how it would go since I hadn’t done the road route since before Kilimanjaro. I’m pleased to report it went well and I feel a nice boost of confidence as a result. Thanks to all who helped out yesterday.

The to do list is still long–but I will chew away at it step by step like anything else. I hope to have a reasonably relaxed week clueing up life here, training some, packing, saying good-byes, and mentally preparing for the challenges of Pumori. I’ll send out one more weekly update before heading out. I’ll be audio blogging to my website as well the myeverest site. I hope you’ll continue to follow along when I’m on the mountain. I’ll count on your support to push up up from behind.

Have a good week,

TA

Click here to donate to Pumori: Climb for Awareness or click here for a downloadable form.

Pumori in Pink

Howdy,

Two weeks and counting. I finally gave in and made a “to-do” list because the details were starting to pile up in numbers greater than seven (the average number of things we can hold in short term memory).

There is now gear piled up on my couch. That’s a sure sign that a climb is near. The sorting and choosing has begun as well as the “gear choice” anxiety that tries to convince me that there is only one right choice and making that right choice will ensure that I am safe, warm, and dry always (ha ha). I’m aiming to go as light as possible because that keeps life simpler (and helps meet the new baggage restrictions).

Whenever I take my socks off these days, I am instantly startled. My toenails are shockingly pink. On Wednesday I paid a visit to the Director of Human Resources at Memorial and she gave the first donation towards “Pink Outside the Box.” She provided me with a stunning pair of pink flip flops complete with pink daisies and then proceeded to paint my toenails to match. Another woman in the office put on “top-coat” (who knew there was something called top-coat?) to help keep the polish job looking sharp. My feet don’t look like mine.

Tonight I am kicking off the week by wearing bright pink hockey socks to my game. Tomorrow might just be the day for the set of pink fairy wings that someone dropped off. Who knows what might be in the pink tickle-trunk by Friday…I’m a bit nervous to say the least. There were a few media stories about “Pink Week” as I call it amongst friends: click here and here to see them. I was a bit worried about how the one picture would turn out because the photographer kept saying, “Now give me that crazy look again.”

If you’d like to get in on the pink action, click here to donate or visit my website for a downloadable form and then email me to let me know what you want me to wear. I’m game for nearly anything. I’ll try to get daily updates from Paula Tessier to see how close we’re getting to the week’s goal of halfway up the mountain and pink hair (I know several of you out there are eager for that to happen). My dad’s cousin sent in a donation with the request that I carry a pink rattle and soother since I carried those the last time they saw me dressed in pink!!! Thanks to all who’ve donated thus far and to those that will jump aboard this week for Pink Outside the Box.

I also have a limited number of Pumori: Climb for Awareness toques for sale with all net proceeds also going to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. They are $15. Drop me a line if you are interested.

The first few days back at training after the rest week were tough but I felt the increased strength from the rest almost immediately. It’s easy at this point to second-guess my training approach as pre-trip anxiety arises but I know I was feeling strong on Kili and I’m even stronger now. So here’s hoping and here’s blessing my immune system. As usual, one of the toughest things about a climb in Nepal is staying healthy throughout the trek and climb.

For those in St. John’s, I’m hoping to do a multi-ascent training session on Signal Hill next Saturday or Sunday, if you could spare an hour to drive downhill, please drop me a line with when you are available. Depending on the number of folks who volunteer, I’m hoping it will be less than an hour per person and you could even do it in my car!

This is going to be a very big week. I look forward to it with all the magical and fun and embarrassing moments that will come from dressing absurdly in public. When you see me, try not to laugh too loud. Have a good week and check my website and Facebook page often for picture updates from the week!

Yours in pink,

TA

French Pastries

Happy Back to School to All,

Sorry this update is late, I actually took a vacation. I think it is first period of time in several years I labeled as “vacation.” I spoke at a high school in Grand Bank and then headed over to the French island of St. Pierre to eat French bread and pastries (as well as rest and hike). After a few days of carbohydrate loading, I spent some time exploring the Burin Peninsula by kayak. I loved being out on the salt water once again and even managed to flip my boat while playing in a rock garden. The good news was that my new dry suit works very well and other than a bruised ego, all was okay ☺.

I leave for Pumori in three short weeks. I received the expedition list from Tim Rippel (the expedition leader) and the team covers four continents. There are 15 climbers on two teams hailing from Canada, US, United Kingdom, Australia, Thailand, and Jordan. We’re joined by two guides (Tim Rippel from Canada and Hugo Searle from the US/Wales) and ten Sherpa climbers/staff from Nepal. Having more trip details makes it all seem much more real and exciting. I tried out my new base camp tent on the Burin and I think it will make a fine mountain home.

I have two more weeks of hard training and will then taper off for the two weeks before the climb begins. Much of the next while will be spent packing, repacking, making what gets to go and what stays behind decisions. I have a few presentations and other projects to keep me busy and out of trouble.

The countdown to “Pink Outside the Box” is on! Rumour has it that a pair of pink wings has been found as well as a pair of pink pumps. If you plan on getting me a pink item to wear for next week, please drop me an email so I can make an arrangement to pick it up and get it into the queue for wearing! For each contribution of $20 to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation-Atlantic, you can have me wear any item of pink clothing or accessory. I will go about my regular week wearing the various items and am somewhat nervous (okay, terrified) of what my wardrobe for next week will entail.

I got an update from Paula Tessier and we’re almost 10 percent of the way towards our fundraising goal of one dollar per metre of Pumori. I’m hoping “Pink Outside the Box,” gets us much further up the mountain. Remember that I’ve promised to dye my hair pink if we reach the halfway mark of the fundraising goal by the end of next week.

Speaking of climbing the mountain, Tim sent out a picture of Pumori with the route highlighted on it. It’s an amazing ridge-based route that promises some great views of Everest and the whole Khumbu valley. Check out the red line on the photo. We’ll place an Advanced Base Camp and then two camps on the mountain before the summit attempt. I will be clogging from the mountain so you’ll be able to follow along every step of the way on my website.

Time to head out to step class and drop lots of salt water on the floor. Thanks for your support and do find me some pink to wear!

With gratitude,

TA

Blue Helmeted Super Hero

Happy Labour Day Weekend,

A few weeks back I bought a new motorcycle helmet at a Regatta Day Door Crasher sale. It is bright blue with gold trim. I could have chosen the more sedate forest green one with the same gold trim but decided one goal of motorcycle protective gear is to be visible so I went with the one that matched Blue Raspberry Gatorade. When I placed the helmet on my head, I could feel a transformation of sorts, an embracing of my inner super hero and began to joke with a friend about being a “Blue-Helmeted Super Hero.” (BHSH)

I mentioned this transformation one day to Diane of WOKie fame and she volunteered to lend me her bright blue lycra ski suit to complete my super hero outfit. A few days later she dropped the shiny blue mound of fabric into my car. I’d planned to make my appearance as a BHSH the next time we got together but the red phone in my lair did not ring so I forget to become the BHSH.

Diane went on vacation. A few more weeks went by. This week she was returned to the hiking fold (which was good because I’d been taking it a bit easier without Diane’s blistering pace setting). I knew Thursday was the morning. I put the suit by the door along with my helmet, the night before to prevent forgetfulness. The alarm rang and I popped out of bed eager to assume my new identity (and see the faces of the WOKies as I walked up). I worried that a ski suit designed for winter temps might be a tad bit warm so I first donned a technical t-shirt and nylon shorts, pulled on the suit, tied my boots, hauled on my big pack, draped my cape over the pack and fastened it with a carabiner, and pulled my helmet on! Voila! I was a super hero (or at least I thought I looked like one).

I walked out of the house and towards Signal Hill. Drivers slowed and stared. Pedestrians crossed to the other side of the street as I strode confidently towards them. It was 6:25 am and I had people to meet. Diane drove by me but didn’t slow. She turned the corner, parked, and hopped out–grabbing Wanda to drag her around the corner to point as what was coming their way. Natelle looked at me with incredulous eyes and Marian’s dog, Anya barked as if I were a knife wielding thug. After their initial shock wore off, they all began to laugh and talk excitedly. We snapped a few photos and off we went.

The suit was instantly hot, the moment I started hauling the monster pack up the first set of stairs but I was committed (for some reason) to make it out to the point before finding a phone booth. We stopped several times to “capture the moment” and continuously chuckled at the ridiculousness of my attire. Finally, when heat stroke was about to set it, I stripped of the blue power suit and rejoined with my regular self. We completed the rest of the training hike and I came home and downloaded the pictures.

One thing I learned is that lycra doesn’t lie. With its wonderful clingy elasticity, nothing is hidden and I was startled (even though I was there) that I’d gone out into the world in such an exposed condition. Despite the revealing nature of some of them, I liked a few of the photos and chose to them to Facebook. I loved the response they generated. Several people wrote to say they needed a laugh that morning and the photos had provided. Click here to see the morning’s photographic collection.

It reminded me of the week I spent in “Ring of Fire” training for Denali where I had to wear dresses for a week. That took me so far out of my comfort zone that I almost turned inside out. I figure my upcoming “Pink Outside the Box” campaign has the same potential for enormous challenge and discomfort!

I hear some folks are plotting to find me some pink lycra, a pink tutu, and frilly pink socks–now there’s a hiking outfit. If you missed it last week, during the week of September 15-19, you can provide me with a pink item of clothing, shoes, or accessories and for a $20 donation to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation-Atlantic (CBCF), I’ll wear it during the course of a normal workweek. A reminder that if donations to the CBCF reach the halfway mark before or during that week, I will dye my hair pink! Click here to make a donation to the CBCF and secure your spot as a sponsor of Pink Outside the Box.

We all have worlds and spaces in which we are very comfortable. I think its important every once in awhile to get outside those zones to get a fresh look at our selves and at possibilities we might be inadvertently setting aside. It is often said that the greatest rewards come from the greatest risks. I think it’s important to practice taking risks, both small and large. Going out into the world dressed as a BHSH was a small risk for me. Wearing pink for a week is a pretty big risk for me. Using a telephone to call a potential sponsor is a huge risk for me while dancing on the edge of a rock cliff is a piece of cake for me.

What’s risky to me might be a cakewalk to you and vice versa. We’re all individual is what we find risky and how we navigate the feelings that come up when we risk. I know that when I think of breast cancer, I know I have several known risks–many of which I can do nothing about and some I can. As we live our lives, we face many risks and some days we can notice them directly and other days, we have to deny them in order to get though our days.

As we round the corner of this last long weekend of summer, I notice that I am beginning to notice feelings of fear and nervousness crop up in my belly. I have some fear of Pumori, of the mountain, of avalanches, rockfalls, altitude, cold, falling, and loneliness. That fear is a gift. The fear provides me a gauntlet that I need to pass-I need to continuously choose and rechoose to go towards the mountain and the risk it sets out. The fear also reminds me to be disciplined in training for the mountain and to be diligent in risk management practice while on the mountain. Without fear, there would be no caution. We need both risk and caution and we need to find the middle way between them, for I believe to risk too little is as dangerous as risking too much.

Thanks for coming along on this most amazing journey. Everest’s Daughter is teaching me so much before I even reach her flanks. It is a great honour to be supporting the work of the CBCF through this climb and I ask that you support it as well if you are able. The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation is a national organization dedicated to creating a future without breast cancer. It was started in 1986 and works to fund and support innovative research, education and awareness programs, early diagnosis and effective treatment, and a positive quality of life for those living with breast cancer.

Have a good week,

TA

Pink Outside the Box

Greetings from Another Gorgeous Day,

I continue to be amazed at how weeks seem to be flying by at light speed. I had a good week of training with my adjusted program. I enjoyed having 15 different varieties of push-ups on the menu and how each one worked my body in different ways. Pack weights went up again for both indoor and outdoor training. I trained with Phil for the first time since I returned from Kili and loved how he challenges me to push harder.

We were outside for the first time doing a combination drill that included agility footwork, throwing medicine balls, and kicking soccer balls. I was having a bit of a tough time with some wheezing so I’ll pay a visit to my doc this week to seek her advice on that-it may have been that the pollen count was high in the field or maybe third week fatigue or maybe I didn’t warm-up enough.

I’m nearing the end of my hypoxia protocol which is a first-I was able to start the program enough weeks out that I’ll get through the whole ten weeks. I’m working my steady state session at 10% oxygen now, the equivalent of 6000 metres of altitude. I hope to get down to 9% before I go but as usual, I’ve started to have some mask phobia and it becomes a mental workout just to use the equipment. I’ve been using mountaineering DVD’s to help push through that barrier-having the computer to pay attention to distracts from the sensation of wanting to rip the mask off. From past experience, I know this comes up for me after about 9 weeks of training and if I can stay with it, it passes.

I leave in five weeks from tomorrow and I’m split in thinking that there’s lots of time and departure will be here before I know it. I’m tempted to start laying out gear and making piles and lists. My excitement for the climb is growing but at the same time, feelings of doubt sometimes crawl into the weft of my thoughts. I notice them and try to set them aside. I know I’ll be missing the WOKies big time as I head off on this adventure needing to create the team and community on arrival. I knew the WOKies had spoiled me and I look forward to future adventures with them (and others).

I met with Paula Tessier again this week to put our heads together about the fundraising aspect of the climb. After some yummy dessert, we came up with something that I will be really fun (and terrifying). I’m going to let you know earlier than the public announcement so you can start combing your closets and tickle trunks!

I hate pink. I really do. It’s never been a colour that has appealed to me. I don’t own one thing that is pink. Pink is a colour that sends shivers down my spine and the thought of dressing in pink is almost enough to send me screaming from the room.

So, when thinking about what I might do to entice people to donate to my Pumori: Climb for Awareness, in support of the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation-Atlantic Region, the colour pink naturally came to mind. Pink symbolizes the fight against breast cancer and thus leads me to a very large challenge. For the week of September 15-19, I will subject myself to “Pink Outside the Box.”

For these five long days, I will dress in any pink items that supporters who donate $20 provide. For each donation of $20, I will don one item. A pink dress. $20. A string of pink pearls. $20. Pink shoes. $20. Pink boa $20. Pink hockey jersey. $20. Pink training tights. $20. Pink ribbons $20.

My chest tightens as I consider the possibilities of training, teaching, and going about my week dressed in donated pink items. However, if total donations to the climb reach the $3581 (halfway to the goal) during that week, my “Pinking Outside the Box” will not stop at clothing. If this level of donations is reached, I will dye my hair pink! One hundred percent of the money raised through “Pink Outside the Box” and Pumori: Climb for Awareness climb go directly to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation-Atlantic Region (i.e. none of it will go towards the costs of the climb).

I’ll keep you posted on the logistics of getting items to me. I plan to post daily pictures of each’s day’s pink outfit to my website and am hoping to generate some media interest in both Pink Outside the Box and the climb.

I’m off to train…have a good week. Thanks for your support.

TA

PS. To donate online, click here. For a downloadable form to fax or mail, click here.