it’s crunch time and a whole host of thoughts are swirling about in a rather unsettling fashion in my little mental universe.

so it’s crunch time. 6 more weeks till the BIG ONE. everest, that is.

these days, when i contemplate the fact that in 6 weeks (i.e. next month) i’ll actually be looking up at everest, it just completely blows my mind.

i was telling yihui yesterday, in betwwen huffs and puffs on a morning trail run, that i think this everest climb will be like nothing we’ve ever done or ever will do. duh.

everest has been a goal for so long and it’s been something that i’ve pushed myself so hard for over the past few years. now that i’m actually about to embark on it, i find myself totally excited, but at the same time, also highly uneasy that there’s no longer a comforting “future time” as a buffer, when actual contemplation of the climb and its consequences can be relegated to “later” and one is pretty much buoyed up by the very idea of climbing.

see? crunch time.

in all honesty, i feel it is impossible for any climber to seriously declare that he or she is fully prepared and is secure in the knowledge that every single bit of ground has been covered and every single muscle fibre is ready for that one big day at the top. at best, i think we all just pray and hope that some happy twist of fate will help save the day when even the best laid plans fall short.

it’s the fact that everest has so much history behind it that pretty much awes me and puts my little position in perspective. there have been so many mountaineering “greats” on the slopes of everest throughout its history: hillary, bonnington, messner, boukreev, viesturs among others and i find myself wondering if i am even worthy to step foot on everest’s slopes.

everest has produced so many remarkable successes, so many tragic mishaps, so many stories and so many tales that have become legends and where among all these incredible feats and heart-rending losses, do i now stand? as much as i am psyched by the challenge, i am afraid that i am not worthy enough to stand where other much better climbers have stood, climbing the same mountain.

it’s a strange feeling.

i’ve spent the last four years staring up at a map of everest on my wall (the very same map that moves around with me, depending on where i spend the most hours, from my home, to hostel and now, office) and i feel like i know the mountain on some level, it’s geography, how the khumbu icefalls looks like, where the camps are, how long it may take to the summit, how bad the weather can be, how tough the lhotse face is, the bottleneck at the hillary step…yet i know absolutely nothing about it.

maybe, that’s the ironic magnetism of everest and mountaineering in general. we spend years making plans, refining schedules, testing out high-tech gear, reading up on other expedition reports, hoping to just get that extra little edge to give us a better shot at what may be waiting for us up high. yet, despite the most meticulous plans, perfect health and most expensive equipment, how many of us still utter a prayer to an ambiguous, probably indifferent, mountain god under our breath to just please, please grant us safe passage.

i know i always do.