Kili Team Training 101 - Part 1

One of the questions I think I have been most frequently asked since taking on the Kili challenge is, "So, how do you train for something like this?" People seem genuinely interested while you talk about the gear and the beautiful hikes we've had the opportunity to go on. Then I watch as their eyes glaze over as you discuss walking lunges, squats, dead drops with 20kg of weight in your hands, the 4:30 a.m. wake-ups, the repetitive climb up the 200 odd Westcliffe stairs. They shake their heads, look at me with a mixture of wonder and wariness and say, "You're actually insane!" They may be spot on. I can tell you though, that Amanda is right when she says that there is something extremely compelling about working towards a specific goal, which allows you to do things you never thought yourself capable of. Like climbing the Westcliffe stairs, repeatedly, in the dark at 5:00 a.m. when the temperature gauge in your car reads 1° C. 

The Westcliffe Stairs at 5:00 a.m.

So for anyone interested in what you need to do in order to be able to climb a mountain, here are some of the things we've learned along the way:

Training Tip # 1: Find a trainer

Interestingly, this is not a new concept to Jews. One of the first mishnahs our children learn at school goes "Make for yourself a Rav". Whatever journey we're on - be it physical or metaphorical, always, always, take a guide. The Kili team has several - firstly there's Lance our tour operator and guide on the mountain. Without ever having actually met the man in person, he has imparted a wealth of knowledge and wisdom through his email correspondance, skype sessions and for me most importantly, through watching a video recording of his first ever meeting with the team. We're in safe, experienced hands, and that is more reassuring than you can begin to imagine.

As far as actual training goes, every one is hard at work. Below, is a picture of Tshepo Khoza, (far left) the founder and director of "Art of Running" and his trusty associates (from left to right) Lucky, Thabo and Sipho who are available 3 times a day Monday - Friday to train us in groups. Thank goodness for Tshepo's expertise, Lucky's encouragement, Thabo's constant, entertaining commentary and Sipho's quiet faith in us all. Together they have pushed us well beyond our levels of comfort and into a brand new zone where we are stronger, fitter, more confident and surer than we ever thought we could be in just a few weeks.  

Tshepo, Lucky, Thabo and Sipho

Training Tip # 2: Train in the dark
Training for most of us takes place before the sun rises, or as the sun is setting. Most of us work, and if we're not formally employed, we're mothers. There is very little time during daylight hours for donning lycra and takkies. I guess it also helps to acclimatise to the fact that the toughest part of the climb - which is when we summit, takes place throughout a night of climbing. We've been told that the summit attempt takes place at night so that you don't freak out when you see where you're going. If you could actually view your precarious location, you would be paralysed by terror. I prefer to think it's so that we can summit at dawn and greet morning on the 'Roof of Africa' - much more poetic.

Training Tip # 3: Train in the cold
The summit of Kilimanjaro is very cold. As in -26° C cold. Best you check out your gear before you board the plane. The advantage of having to train through winter is that you get to prepare for sleeping in sub-zero temperatures with nothing but your base layer and sleeping bag to protect you. In a way I'm grateful when the thermometer dips below freezing becuase it gives me a chance to see if the cold gear really works. And you know what? It does!

Training Tip # 3: Find a good parking lot
We spend a lot of time outdoors at un-Godly hours. When we first started, our meeting  place was in the parking lot just outside Shula's bakery. Now we seem to do much of our stretching in the parking lot at Yeshiva College. I once met the president of our shul on a Sunday morning outside Shula's. He was buying doughnuts. I was with the team, stretching after a gruelling 45 minutes of interval training up and down Bradfield Drive. See here's the thing about parking lots - they're very public places. If the encounter hadn't happened right there, out in the open, and been reported to mutual acquaintances, not even I would have believed it to be true. Me? Outside a bakery on a Sunday morning stretching instead of buying freshly baked goods?? After 45 minutes of running??? Rubbish!

Training Tip # 4: Break in the gear
No question about it, you have to get used to the gear. Boots and backpacks are your companions literally every single, agonisingly slow step of the way. Getting comfortable with all the paraphenalia is an imperative. We wear our boots when we climb stairs, when we go for walks through our neighbourhoods, when we walk around our homes and obviously on hikes. We gradually increase the weight we carry in our packs to learn to accommodate the loads we will transport on the mountain. If you saw the palaver that went on around the necessary requirements for nourishment on one of our hikes, you would be impressed by what some of us could fit into a 35 litre capacity bag. I could literally cook meals with the things I carry in my pack - depending on the day, you are likely to find a combination of any of the following: water, rice, flour, sugar, couscous, assorted tin cans, mielie meal, quinoa, pasta, nuts, protein bars, fruit, cut up veggies, colddrinks, an assortment of dried fruit. In the theoretical and highly unlikely event, I ever got stuck somewhere in the middle of a hike, I could likely survive for a month. Oddly, I'm not so eager to actually test that hypothesis.

Training Tip # 5: Take a hike

The Kili Team at Shelter Rock, Magaliesberg

In our family, most Sundays consist of what seems like endless, mindless housework - weekend laundry, weekend dishes, weekend clutter to clear up - over and over again. Long queues at shopping tills while we stock up on the week's grocery requirements. Chances are there's a birthday party to attend - either our own or one of our children's friends. For some reason, my children seem to find themselves attached to screens for as much of the day as we'll allow them to be - XBox, computer, TV. Somehow the day seems to both drag and fly. Interminable hours are spent doing things I have no other time but on a Sunday to do and these chores consume my free moments. So often at the end of our weekends I wonder if we did anything truly meaningful, or if squandred the precious gift of our off day. 

Amit (6 years), my intrepid little explorer.

An unanticipated consequence of the Kili campaign has been the necessity to actually hike. I guess I had not truly thought about or really imagined the wealth of beauty and wildlife, right on our doorstep. The importance of hiking in preparation is signficant and finding places to hike close to Joburg and Pretoria has become a regular group project. Two weeks ago I took my boys aged 9 and 6 years respectively with me as we explored Klipriviersberg. I watched my sons meet and interact with adults who were strangers to them, but important to me, run in the fresh air, explore rocky mountain sides and experiment with my walking poles. The Kili campaign is all consuming for many of us. It dominates waking thoughts and sleepless nights and even Shabbos table conversations. It excites and terrifies both private and shared moments with spouses and friends. It seems equally surreal and inexplicably palpable. It would appear that there would be no space for anything else  - except for the fact that as we all know real life has a way of forging ahead whether or not you're engaged. Work and family occupy my real day to day busy-ness. To see my family, the one reality more precious than any adventure, coalesce with my Kilimanjaro world was incredibly affirming somehow.  It was exhilirating, it was energising. I bonded with my children in a way that was unlike anything I could have achieved over a shared movie (even with popcorn and chuckles). When I signed up for this expedition, part of me acknowledged that it was largely a selfish thing to do. I would be away from my family for 10 days. I would sacrifice time with them as I trained. I would be unavailable at night, because of team meetings or mostly because I would be comatose with exhaustion as a result of early morning training. I did not anticipate this other, wonderful gift - a chance to discover raw African beauty; a chance to be outdoors drenched in glorious sunlight and to explore a whole new world both invigorating and soothing. Best, I would find an opportunity to share it all with my children.

by Tali Frankel