TRAVEL MEMOIRS
My Struggle to the Top of Mount Kilimanjaro
It was the toughest challenge I had ever faced but could I do it?
I was done. Feeling defeated. I couldn’t quiet my inner voice as I tried to cling to the remnants of my confidence. But we kept moving — polepole, which means slowly in Swahili. One foot in front of the other, like a death march.
The hardest part was the mental punishment. I tried to remain positive but at this point, it was almost impossible. I felt like I was at the end of my journey and I knew that our guides were deciding whether I would have to go down the mountain. But still, I kept moving.
I was a late bloomer. I didn’t really begin to live my best life until I was in my late forties.
You could call it a midlife crisis but I upended my life because I knew there was more out there than working five days a week with just a few weeks of vacation every year. I needed a change.
An epic change.
When my mother passed away in late 2007, I decided to try the things I had only dreamed about but had never attempted partly out of fear but mainly from a lack of self-confidence.
For my first challenge, I decided to trek to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa.
