Knowing When It Actually Matters

Read time: 8 minutes

Welcome to The Ascend Archives Thursday Tale, a weekly newsletter where I share a story about a transformation, revelation, or change in thinking that has helped improve an aspect of my life.

Descending the Mountain

“We need to pick up the pace. I won’t let you fall” says Hussein, my Tanzanian guide.

Everything hurts. Why do we need to sprint down this mountain?

I grab Hussein’s hand with my left, grip the trekking pole with my right, and begin hustling down the steep decline.

It’s 7:30 AM and I’ve been awake for the past 8 hours. My legs feel like bricks, my throat is on fire, and I just want to take it slow.

But my gut tells me to ignore my brain and trust this guy I met just 6 days ago.

We are side-by-side in a light jog. One step after another moving down the steep rocky terrain. Each time I step on an unstable part of the mountain, Hussein is there to support me.

For 90 minutes, my mind keeps telling me to stop but my body continues to push forward.

“We’re supporting each other. You and me,” says Hussein.

We get to a section with multiple diverging paths. “Continue straight on the most direct route you can. I’ll be right next to you”.

I follow his instructions.

The trail narrows, only allowing me to get by. Hussein is forced to hop up and over a rock to stay by my side. When he plants his left foot coming down from the rock, it starts to slip.

My body is drained, my legs are aching, and I can barely talk from my sore throat, but I flex my left arm and support his bodyweight to prevent him from falling.

“I got you too,” I say to Hussein smiling.

“Thank you,” says Hussein smiling back, “We’re almost there.”

—

30 minutes later we arrived back at Base Camp of Mt. Kilimanjaro (15,000 ft). This was the location where we started the day 9 hours earlier. It took us 6 hours to summit the mountain at 19,300 feet and another 3 to get back down.

Our team of porters was waiting at Base Camp to congratulate us and serve us a warm meal. I got some temporary relief sitting for an hour, drinking fresh fruit juice, and eating a 3 course breakfast, but my body was still in pain.

I just wanted to relax but Hussein insisted that we continue down the mountain. After our meal, we set out for another 4 hour hike down to 10,000 feet to camp for the night.

This time, we didn’t go as fast which allowed me to reflect. I had just summited Mt. Kilimanjaro. I was excited and proud of my accomplishment but frustrated that I couldn’t enjoy it because everything hurt. My throat burned every time I coughed or talked*. My legs hurt with every step. My frontal lobe was throbbing.

*Side Note: My throat was burning because I had inhaled so much dust from the past several days hiking on the mountain. They call it the Kilimanjaro flu.

How long was I going to be experiencing these symptoms? I knew my legs would recover after a few days of rest. I knew my headache would probably go away after drinking lots of water and sleep. But this terrible cough, stuffed nose, and strep throat? What if this dust caused serious damage to my lungs? Would this have been worth it?

By the time we reached camp, I hadn’t said a word in a few hours, but I mustered up the strength to ask Hussein, “Do you have any local remedies for the Kilimanjaro flu?”

“Yes, don’t worry. I’ll have the chef make you some extra strong ginger tea.”

After 10 hours of sleep, 5 mugs of ginger tea, and another 3-course meal, I felt like a new human. We descended the final 4,000 feet to the bottom of the mountain. I finally got to enjoy my accomplishment.

Training for the Race

Before leaving for Africa, I started a 10-week training program for a half marathon. I’ve completed a few half marathons in the past. But this time, I wanted to test my speed. My fastest time to date is 1 hour and 36 minutes. With aspirations of running a sub 3-hour marathon, I decided to set a goal of sub 1 hour 30 minutes.

The week before I left for Tanzania, I had ramped up to running 30 miles and was feeling strong. I figured that hiking the mountain would keep me in shape. Then my plan was to get in as many miles running as possible during the rest of my trip (2 weeks of a safari and working from the beach in Zanzibar). Plus I still had 4 weeks to finish my training when I got back to Austin.

By the end of my trip, I had only run about 15 out of the 80 miles my training plan called for. But I landed in Austin feeling well rested and ready to get after it. I Ubered home, unpacked my bags, threw in my laundry, and felt antsy from sitting on planes for 30 hours. I hadn’t planned on it, but I hit the lake trail for a smooth 5.5 mile run.

I felt great and was pumped to be on track for my race in 4 weeks.

The next day I hit all of my splits on a 6.5 mile tempo run the next day (on and off running fast) and enjoyed the challenge. Then the weekend rolled around. I had some friends in town and a surprise birthday party Friday night that included drinking games, cake, and a trip to the West 6th street bars.

It was a fun night, but not the best way to prep for a long run Saturday morning. A combination of my hangover and jet lag finally catching up had me on the sofa all day Saturday. But after a solid 10 hours of sleep, I was ready to get back on track.

—

Sunday Morning

I hop out of bed and check my phone…6 AM.

I write a few pages in my journal, lay on the floor for a 10 minute Headspace meditation, and read a few newsletters.

I head downstairs to drink LMNT electrolytes, eat oatmeal, and do 15 minutes of stretching before heading out for my run.

12 miles easy pace.

I start to run and instantly feel a knot in my stomach. But I ignore it. Most of my runs start slow, it will go away. As I continue along the trail, I continue to feel like shit: my stomach is rumbling, my legs are stiff, and my head starts to ache.

At mile 2, I slow down my pace and drink some water. Nothing is helping. I reach a fork in the trail. If I continue straight then I’m committing to another 8 miles or if I turn and cross the Congress bridge then I can cut the run short.

I start running the decision through my head.

If I want to stay on track for my race, I need to get these miles in. Even if they are slow, I just need time on my feet. I felt great the other day. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I just need to keep pushing through. It’s only one more hour.

But my body is really telling me not to push it. Do I really want to suffer for the next hour running around this lake? To what end? So that I can stay on track to complete this arbitrary goal?

I crossed the Congress Bridge and headed back to my car. I gave in. I quit.

Final thoughts

Hussein was right.

He knew that as soon as I got to lower elevation I would feel better. He had seen people suffer from vomiting, dizziness, and extreme fatigue when they stayed at the summit or even Base Camp for too long. He knew that I just needed to push through that short term pain to prevent more harmful damage.

Luckily I listened to him.

But then back in Austin, I found myself in a similar situation. Should I have pushed through the short term pain on my run for the long term benefit of accomplishing my half marathon goal?

I decided that it wasn’t worth it and that I could just push back my race until I was ready.

It wasn’t until I heard Ryan Holiday on a podcast with Jay Shetty that I had an aha moment. Ryan was discussing a stressful situation with one of his kids and he said that sometimes you just have to stop and put the situation in perspective.

Ryan’s kid was having a temper tantrum about going to camp. Instead of forcing his kid to camp, he let him stay home for the day. His kid stopped crying and they went on with their lives. Sometimes we extrapolate these micro decisions…”If I give into my kid crying this one time then he will never learn and I’m going to raise a brat.”

But that’s not the case.

Maybe the kid was sick, maybe he didn’t have enough to eat, maybe he was just having an off day. In the grand scheme of life, did it really matter to let the kid stay home from camp one day?

For me, just because I gave up on that 12 mile run doesn’t mean I’m the kind of person who will always give in or who can’t push through adversity. I just realized that running my half marathon in October vs delaying it a few months didn’t actually matter. While finishing my Kilimanjaro climb and persevering through adversity did actually matter to me.

When we get worked up, sometimes it’s best to just ask does this actually matter?

Thank you for reading! As always please reply and let me know what resonated, what didn’t, or what you question. I love chatting about this stuff!

Cheers,

Andrew