Climb Every Mountain

Since coming to Japan, I've climbed about five mountains. Yes, that makes me sound tough, but before you get too impressed with my physical prowess, please note that there is no climbing gear required, just hiking up and down steep, boulder-strewn paths, one agonizing step after another. Please also note that almost the entire time I am in the back of the line, wheezing and pleading to be thrown over the edge to end my suffering. Why, then, have I managed to climb so many? Why didn't I learn my lesson after surviving the first one? Well, it's partly because I kind of forget how painful it is, but mostly because my friends here keep planning awesome trips where they just casually mention, "Oh yeah, and while we're there we might as well climb Mt. So and So. I've heard it's a lot easier than the last one we did." I don't want to miss out on all the fun, so I agree to the trip. I don't want to be the loser who is sitting in the hostel while everyone else is enjoying nature, so then I find myself struggling up a rocky/muddy/slippery "path" with my backpack and boots on.

I always think I'll try and get in shape before it's time for the big climb, but I never do. I haven't really worked out for quite some time (since I moved to Japan), and it's especially telling on the mountain. Now, I know you're thinking, "Yeah, but you walk and bike so much and so quickly and you look so great!" Thank you, but you must factor in the effects of altitude and incline, which I don't deal with on a day to day basis. Judging by my last attempt, my lung capacity is practically nonexistent and my hamstrings don't really work. I can keep up fine as long as the path is even or even when heading downhill, but as soon as the path heads upwards I want to throw myself down and be left to either die of exposure or be rescued by helicopter, whichever happens first. I'm not joking.

I usually hit the mountains with some combination of Leah, Ali, Daniel, Anna, and Mike. Leah is almost always in front and I bring up the rear, with the others scattered in between. Leah is very concious of time and is very good at keeping us moving - making sure we make it to our goal before dark or before our bus leaves. She's the accelerator, if you will, whereas I, of course, am the brake. Although I may be an impediment to our progress, I like to believe that I play an important role in the group. I make sure we take lots of breaks so we don't over-over-exert ourselves. I increase everyone else's self-esteem because they can say to themselves, "I'm really tired and this sucks, but at least I'm not last!" When I am actually moving, I keep the others moving too - it's a lot easier to keep going when there is someone else behind you - and I make sure that no one gets left behind. (I realize that this paragraph is mostly just me making myself feel better for my lack of fitness, but I don't really care.)

With all my complaining, I do have to admit there are some benefits to climbing mountains. The views are amazing and I've seen some really cool flora, fauna, and rocks (thankfully no bears, but I'm always a bit disappointed by that). This last time we were up in the clouds, which made everything pretty otherworldly and there were geysers at the end since it was actually a volcano. My companions are a lot of fun and whenever we can catch our breath we have some good conversations. The Japanese climbers we meet along the way are always friendly and encouraging (probably because they're much faster and better equipped). Compared to them I feel a bit like the Von Trapp family wearing their clothes made of curtains as they escape from the Nazis through the Alps. They do make me feel good about my Japanese language ability though as I can always understand and respond to them (everyone always says the same things - hello, good luck, distances to the top/bottom/next landmark, etc.). There is also a great feeling of accomplishment when you reach the peak of the mountain. It's even better when you've made it to the end and you can throw down your pack and collapse from exhaustion, knowing that the mountain may have beat you up a bit, but it didn't completely beat you. (Sorry, was that last bit too cheesy?)

Anna just emailed me and wants to climb Mt. Tateyama during our 5-day weekend toward the end of September. I suppose I might as well go with her. How hard could it be?