Turning BLUE for Macmillan.

Since my last blog we had Halloween which was the perfect opportunity for me to do something a little different to help raise awareness and money for my sponsorship. Unfortunately, Halloween didn’t fall on a working day but that wasn’t going to stop me dressing up for the occasion. My boss came up with the brilliant idea of me dressing up at work for the Friday and Saturday prior to Halloween (our last two working days before) and only me being the one to do so. As she suggested, if I was the only one to be dressing up it would get people asking why it was only myself. So I thought long and hard about what I was going to dress up as and I knew I wanted to do something different; something that was most definitely going to draw attention. Once I came up with the idea, my spectacular  idea I must say, I decided not to tell anybody at work.

I didn’t want to go down the conventional Halloween route and dress up as a witch or a vampire but what I had chose to dress up as was going to get quite a reaction. I was going to go all out on my costume and a lot of time and effort went into it, plus quite a few British Pounds. How often do you get to dress up at work? I absolutely love fancy dress, especially when maximum effort has gone into every little detail of the costume. I ordered the main part of my costume, the wig which I was going to style myself, the face paint and all the little extras.

It was all coming together but of course there had to be humongous flaws in my plan. The costume I ordered arrived on the Wednesday, two days before I was supposed to be wearing it, and they had sent me the children’s costume. I’m 5’6” and I weigh at least 10½ stone (tell anybody and I will put a hit on you). There is no way I am going to be able to gracefully tuck myself into this little costume. So what did I do? I had everything else but the main part of my costume. How was anybody going to be able to tell what I am without the main part of my costume? Like all adults do when they find themselves in a crisis, I cried to my mummy. Mothers always have the answer and my mother’s answer to my problem was her mother. My Nanny. So Wednesday night we set off to Nanny’s where we spent the remainder of the day and the night cutting up my costume and sewing it onto clothes that actually fit me. I had also spent the last 3 days braiding a cheap wig I had bought from a nearby fancy dress shop only to find that after a mere 10 little braids there was no hair left. I was almost out of time and totally out of funds. I was heroically bailed out by my best friend who purchased a wig online, 3 times the price of the tatty wig, to be delivered at the last minute. Once it arrived my Mum and I sat in front of the telly braiding away. So I cannot take all the credit for the costume. Thank you all. Thank you SO much.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, as they say, and it is for the best they sent me the child’s costume otherwise I would be facing the problem of getting myself out of a onesie to go to the toilet. I drink an awful lot of coffee and water during the day and therefore I go to the lavatory a lot. I’ll be giving up the caffeine, don’t worry all you over opinionated motor-mouths who are preparing to give me another lecture on giving something up. As if you know best.

So I had my costume ready and was more content with the idea that even more effort had gone into it than originally planned and it was more personal. I had braided my wig and added feathers where I felt necessary, my SuperNan and SuperMum had put together a costume to fit my figure and I had emailed the local paper. I was that pleased with the effort that had gone into it that I felt it absolutely vital I let everybody in Wymondham and the surrounding villages know. It was all for a good cause after all. So I was awake at 6am on Friday morning applying masses of face paint and glitter onto my face and my feet. I didn't paint my hands as they would have been washed away during the day. Forward thinking for just a hairdresser, hey? I got into my costume, I slipped my wig on and my other accessories to complete my outfit. I looked like a wolly. An absolutely awesome wolly.

On the drive to work I got the most peculiar looks from people; some laughed and some just stared but I got a reaction all the same. Not a single person who walked past me in those two days didn’t look or make a remark. It was the best feeling ever and it raised more awareness by considerable amount. A photographer from the local paper turned up during my lunch break on Friday to take pictures, along with everyone else who wanted to take a few snaps, and then I was to wait for my article to appear in the paper. I can’t describe how elated I felt for those two days and how much I appreciate everyone who helped and sponsored me. My new total is just under £1,500 and to know I’m that much closer to reaching my target is quite overwhelming. It’s now beginning to sink in what I am doing and as much as I am looking forward to it, I’m enjoying the journey leading up to it. I highly recommended doing some fundraising of your own, if you have never done anything before, because it is the most exciting and rewarding thing you will ever do. I have never done anything like this before and it will not be the last time I do either.

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Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

I’m not making excuses for the fact that I’m struggling to quit smoking but I’m sick to death of people treating my like I’ve got a disgusting contagious disease because I do smoke. You cannot compare quitting smoking to climbing a mountain and I don’t care how you try to format it, it is not the same. I’ve had people tearing me down until I know what it feels like to be fag ash;  disgusting and in need of discarding. I will quit smoking in my own time and I will do it my own way. For the people who are endlessly nagging me to quit, I will have a picture of me at the summit with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth just for you.

From the book “Kilimanjaro: The Trekking Guide to Africa’s Highest Mountain” by Henry Stedman.

Smoking and other preparations

While the above exercised certainly provide many benefits (this came after a couple of excerpts on leg strengthening and aerobic exercises to help with training for the climb), we still maintain that nothing is better preparation than going for a long walk! A walk provides excellent aerobic exercise, is great for strengthening leg muscles and if the walk is long enough and involves plenty of uphills, can be great for improving stamina too. Find walks in your area, or take a walking weekend or holiday. You never know, you may even enjoy it too.
Finally, you can always take up smoking. I’d long heard the rumour that smokers have a better chance of reaching the summit, apparently due to the fact that their bodies are used to less oxygen due to the reduced functioning of their lungs- and certainly my experiences of taking smokers up the mountain bear this idea out. While those of my clients who’ve led a blameless, tabacco-free life frequently struggle with the altitude, long-term smokers tend to saunter up. Breathless, certainly, and often wheezing - but headache-free and happy. Of course, we’re not seriously suggesting you take up smoking - but interesting, isn’t it?

And who says you can’t smoke on the mountain AND make it to the summit? This is a blog worth reading. http://www.neilandpalma.co.uk/

The hairdresser and the mountain.

I like to think I know my body but when I get a strange gurgle or surge of pain I’m reminded that my body and I aren’t fully acquainted. I can’t foretell how my body is going to react if I ate nothing but olives all day, or if I didn’t sleep for a whole week, let alone how it’s going to react at high altitude, so what gives someone else the audacity to think they know better than I do when it comes to my body? Although I struggle to keep my mouth shut at times, I’m not backwards in coming forwards, I do believe that if one has nothing nice to say one should definitely keep their gob firmly shut. I have found myself in situations where I’ve had a mental fight with my urges to spill any negative and judgemental thought being processed in my mind but I’ve managed it and in doing so I have saved myself some grace and spared someone’s feelings. What kind of person feels that it is essential not to think very carefully, or even at all, about the repercussions of a negative comment? Does that kind of person (and I say that kind of person because they are clearly a completely different species to the careful, caring and kind folk) get a twang, of any measure, of excitement or pleasure out of potentially making another person feel absolutely terrible? I’m not going to deny that I’ve had fairly callous thoughts about people and never displayed them in some form but I wouldn’t directly allow myself into a situation where I would deem it compulsory to express it for no good reason other than to start an argument or hurt someone’s feelings. If I am provoked then I will ,of course, stand my ground and fight until my head runs out of oxygen and my heart gives way; if I am in the wrong I will acknowledge it and apologize if necessary. The point I am trying to make is I will not insult someone for no good reason and it would have to be a damn good reason if I ever did.

I chose the career I work in because it is something I am passionate about and I like to think I’m good at it. It is a career that does require a substantial amount of skill, imagination and common sense to do it well. There are endless opportunities for me to progress in my career and I constantly find myself working towards something and trying to improve on the knowledge and skills I already possess. The downsides to my career choice are the long hours of standing, the back ache, the persistent dull aching of sciatica, the dermatitis, the fingers you feel like you’ve replaced with chopping boards and the endless struggle to defend yourself for being a hairdresser to people who will slate it until they are blue in the face because of the terrible stereotype we have been given. I am not thick as pig’s shit and I don’t always talk about the weather. Let it be said, there are some hairdressers who couldn’t cut their way out of a paper bag but it is entirely up to their boss’ discretion that they are throwing money down the drain in continuing their employment. There are hairdressers who have secured themselves millions of pounds by building on their career to it’s full potential because it is not the kind of career you can compare to a piece of shit on your shoe. All those people who can’t help but spit on us because we work long and hard hours just like everybody else wouldn’t last 5 minutes doing what we do. I don’t insult other people for their occupation because it isn’t a reflection of who they are as a person. Stereotyping is incredibly demeaning and people are losing the right to be an individual because we are being forced into such painfully judgemental categories that even being dead can’t stop some people from ridiculing you.

When I was training to become a hairdresser nobody ever told me I wouldn’t be able to climb a mountain. If they had ever articulated such drivel I would have demanded they gave me a good explanation as to why I couldn’t do such a thing. Not long a go, upon meeting some old friends, I mentioned in conversation that I would be climbing Kilimanjaro next year and the reaction I got was “But you’re just a hairdresser!”. I can’t even enunciate how that makes me feel in a coherent manner. It is so utterly demeaning and hurtful and yet cripplingly pointless for me to even bother with an educated response. The mature side of me must remind myself that this individual didn’t pause to think that such a statement could be so hurtful because they are clearly poorly educated on the mannerisms of being a gentleman with polite etiquette. Or to dumb it down to their level, they are twat. I don’t expect people to create a parade in my honour and I’m not showing off by telling people but I’m so excited about this challenge that I want to tell people. When was that an open invitation to insult me? I’ve had a few negative responses, which I was expecting, because I wouldn’t have made it into the list of ‘people most likely to achieve something through extreme sports’ in high school. No matter how many times you have people tell you not to let it get to you it does. It really does. It makes you feel insignificant and unworthy of the honour of being part of something so phenomenal. Are those people deliberately putting me down because they’re covering up for the fact they are actually jealous because they would never have the balls to do something like this? Or are they just assholes? 

Ninaitwa Kirsty. Nimefurahi kukujua.

This week, Dee has been sending me a Swahili word of the day everyday to help us both to learn a few of the useful words and phrases. So far it has been extremely helpful and I look forward to what day will bring what word. Since this started I thought I would look into Swahili with a bit more depth and have managed to unravel the meanings behind a lot of the characters’ names in the Disney classic, and my all time favourite Disney film, The Lion King. Without realising it, thanks to the Lion King, we all know a little bit of Swahili in the phrase/song ‘Hakuna Matata’ which of course means ‘no worries.’ I was fascinated to read that ‘Simba’ is Swahili for ‘Lion’ and ‘Rafiki’ means ‘friend’. And of course, everybody knows what a safari entails but translate it into English and you get ‘journey’.

Here are a few more Swahili words/phrases:

Hello = Jambo / hujambo / Salama
How are you? = Habari gani
Fine (response) = Nzuri
Goodbye = Kwa heri / Kwa herini (more than one person)
See You Later = Tutaonana
Nice to meet you = Nafurahi kukuona
Goodnight = Lala salama

AMS and GHDs.

Upon signing up to do Kilimanjaro, my ears have definitely pricked up and it seems more than a handful of people within a 15 mile radius of where I am are also climbing it. I have been encouraging all my friends to sign up for this once in a lifetime experience and it’s incredible to see how extensive the Kili bug has become. Although most of the people I know of who are climbing Kilimanjaro are doing it for a range of different charities but there is one selfish reason why we are all really doing it. I, for one, am doing it to experience the views, the tribulations of the challenge which is going to see me pushing myself beyond my personal limit, to give myself something that I can honestly say I have never been more proud of myself for doing and to finally experience some of the wonders of the world. Then there are those who are doing it for nothing more than to show off and to be submersed with people rubbing soft oil on their egos. I have met enough people like this that are so naïve and clueless about what they’re signing up for I don’t think they even know where Kilimanjaro is.

According to UltimateKilimanjaro.com, 25,000 people set out to climb Kilimanjaro every year and it’s most commonly done through a tour operator. Everything is organised for you so all you have to do is get yourself prepared and attend, but that doesn’t mean it should take the fun out of knowing everything there is to possibly know about the trip. I’ve read every book and every article that has come my way, I have been scouring the internet for every source of information and read a few personal accounts of climbing Kilimanjaro, I’ve watched as many videos on YouTube that I can find and I’ll give them all a second going over, a third, a fourth and a fifth because reading and listening about Kilimanjaro is so fascinating and exciting for me. With all the information I’ve collected on Kilimanjaro it would definitely be my chosen subject on Mastermind.

I attended a charity evening held by a woman who is climbing Kilimanjaro in a matter of weeks and was stunned to hear she didn’t have the faintest idea about the trip or the mountain. She barely knew what charity she was fundraising for. It’s disappointing to know the beauty of Kilimanjaro and the opportunity to hike to the summit is being so undervalued by people who would rather be know as “so-and-so that climbed that mountain” as apposed to someone who spent months preparing for a rigorous trip up the highest freestanding mountain in the world which stands at 5,895 metres (or 5,896m as it reads in some articles) that’ll see you walking an average of 7 hours a day and an incredible 16 hours on the summit day over 7 days. There are no showers or bath tubs, there is no Tesco Express or Holiday Inn, no 6 inch stiletto heel-friendly footpaths, no electricity or plugs for your hair straighteners and no central heating for your tent. This woman, who otherwise is a relatively nice person, when asked the question “which route are you taking?” answered, after a shrug and a long sigh, that she didn’t know which route she was taking but that she was taking the easy route. The easy route? In my honest opinion, I really don’t think this woman she be allowed to enter Tanzania let alone climb up Kilimanjaro. I think it’s lovely that she wants to take two weeks out of her incredibly busy life to raise some money for charity but perhaps she would have been better raising the money by doing something she actually has a little bit of knowledge about.

She even had the audacity to give me advice which was, contrary to what I believe to be the best advise to do, “don’t read anything about it and don’t listen to what anybody else says about it.” I was a bit shocked by her negative and lacklustre response but I wondered if I had misheard or misunderstood. I questioned her puzzling piece of ‘advice’ but she was insistent that I don’t speak to anyone about the climb who has actually done the climb because “it’s all a load of rubbish”. It’s truly astonishing how someone could be that foolish and it’s very disturbing to think she could be so ignorant of what she is leading herself into. I dread to think how unprepared she is but I doubt the disappointment of having altitude sickness putting a stop to her trek would be as terrible for her as it would be for myself. The porters and guides that attend these trips with you are fantastic, which she will be pleased to know I’ve heard and read that this is the case, and are well aware of the symptoms of altitude sickness and all it’s severities.

There are three stages of acute mountain sickness which ranges from mild AMS, moderate AMS to Severe AMS. It’s very common to feel the effects of AMS as it’s all part of the acclimatization process; the main cause of altitude sickness is ascending at high altitude too quickly. The symptoms of mild AMS are headaches, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, loss of appetite, shortness of breath and disturbed sleep. Although this all sounds unpleasant, mild AMS subsidises as the body acclimatizes and as long as the symptoms are mild you can continue on. The signs of moderate AMS are similar but your coordination decreases, your headaches worsen and your nausea forces you to blow chunks.  If you suffer from moderate altitude sickness you are advised to spend a 24 hour resting period at a lower altitude to acclimatise otherwise it is said continuing with moderate AMS could quite possibly lead to death. The moderate stage of ataxia you could experience would reach the point where you couldn’t walk and you’d have to be rushed to lower altitude by stretcher immediately. When you are ascending a mountain of over 5000m, when the altitude sickness usually begins at 3,000m, is this information not worth knowing? Or is it all a load of rubbish?

When asked about the routes the hapless hostess would be taking, she made a comment that there were only three routes to the summit and there was an easy, a medium and a hard route. There are in fact six routes to the summit of Kilimanjaro; Marangu, Machame, Lemosho, Shira, Rongai and Umbwe. None of which you could categorise in such a rookie level of difficulty. If anything, the level of difficulty of all six routes would range from medium, high to very high. I will be taking the Machame route, also known as the ‘Whiskey’ route, which takes up to 7 days and is better suited for acclimatisation. The trek begins at Machame Gate which takes you through a lush rainforest, then heads towards the Shira Plateau before circling halfway around the mountain. We will be approaching the summit from the east which follows the Mweka trail. It is approximately 50 miles from gate to gate. The route chosen by Macmillan has been carefully selected for it’s incredible sights and it’s lengthier trek. A lot of thought goes into the preparation of these challenges and it’s all for your benefit. A little bit of research goes a long way.

I don’t see anything wrong with taking advice from someone who has actually completed the ascent and can tell you which socks are good to take, what flavour sauce sachets to take to spice up the bland flavour of the food, what method of training they found benefited them the most and what kind of backpack isn’t going to start pulling skin or irritating your back after the first 12 hours. I appreciate every piece of advice I have been given so far; I’m looking forward to hearing even more in the future and to share my experience and advice with other people when I complete the challenge. If you are sincerely interested in taking on such a big challenge you would think one would take an interest in the history of the location and you would know that the daily walk from your car to the staff room isn’t a substantial amount of training, unless you have parked your car 5 miles from the workplace and you work on top of a hill. Not in Norfolk...

Quit Quitting.

Being told someone is disappointed in you is supposedly worse than having someone be angry with you. Not only am I utterly, ashamedly disappointed in myself I am absolutely livid at my lack of will power and restraint. I tried to give up smoking and it barely lasted a week. It often takes giving something up to make you realise how much you would miss these insignificant things if they weren’t there. I didn’t realise that nearly everyone I knew was a smoker and that I was constantly surrounding myself with my nicotine demon.

For the first few days I think I just about managed; I allowed myself an ‘emergency’ cigarette and found that this was a momentarily satisfying loophole in going cold turkey. If I had just one a day, usually sometime in the early afternoon, I found I could manage the rest of the day without one. Then when I thought about it, I was still smoking, I hadn’t quit but I had just made gradually weaning myself off a passable excuse for not quitting. Therefore, I never really quit smoking in the first place but I’ve effectively quit the idea of quitting. I found that easy to do because I didn’t have a deadline to cut them out completely. I did to start with but there was no cold turkey involved. Maybe if the term ‘cold turkey’ was more appealing then it could be something I actually wanted to do but nobody wants to voluntarily make themselves dejected for more than 24 hours.

This is exactly why I tried to quit so early on. Had I left it 6 months before Kilimanjaro it would have never happened. I don’t want anything to jeopardize this for me and it’s frustrating that it’s me who is in effect doing so.

It would be a lot easier if EVERYONE would quit as well…