I thought I was doing ok, what with the climbing 1500 stairs a day thing. I thought that was cool. But then last night I got a text message from Bibi saying she is doing 2000 a day. And then I remember that I was... dragging during our hike last weekend and then I think, who am I kidding, exactly? I am not in any kind of shape to climb Kili. Not. At. All.
But I will go on the trip and I will try and if I don't summit, well at least I can blame my butt for being so big. If the rest of the girls don't make it, they won't have that excuse because they don't weigh more than 100 pound apiece. I am pretty sure I could bench press Sri, and Mischa? She wears children's clothing.
So today I am will climb 2000 stairs rather than 1500 and I'll go to the climbing gym and OH! I didn't tell you! I finished a V1 route - which - calm down, I know it's not a big deal - I couldn't have done a month ago because I was sooo out of shape.
Oh wait I am still exactly that: out of shape. Just less out of shape.
Where was I going with this?
Oh right. My point was that it is a damned good thing that I lack the gene that causes jealousy and competitiveness. If I were a different sort of person I would feel like I needed to climb 2500 stairs a day just to make a point, and I would do the socially awkward thing where I try to lift my friends just to prove to them that they are puny, and I'd try buying my clothing in the toddlers' section at K-Mart just to fit in - which I would clearly never accomplish in any section of the store other than the Grown Up one. But as I said, I lack the drive to measure up (or down) and so I am sitting on self-satisfied, too big butt engaging in a caffeine related food crime - in my sweatpants. And I am pretty much ok with that.
Here is an unrelated (pointless) photo I took out the window the other night.