Recognizing the importance of the food pyramid to your health and overall well being is paramount - when you’re under 30. I’m no longer under 30 (HA! HA! there are advantages). Therefore, I’ve created my own cholesterol laden, fat riddled, delicious food pyramid based on a road trip this weekend to the Italian capital of Oklahoma - Krebs (population 2,000+).  I hope my doctor doesn’t see this.

It was the first purely pleasurable road trip I’ve taken in a few months. And when I encircled my arms around the gems I’d purchased at Lovera’s Italian Grocery, this tray resulted.

Had I been asked to choose my last meal before I recently summited my first mountain (Grand Teton), these items would top the list.  I could live off this assortment for the rest of my life.  Well, I’d have to buy more of course…

And wouldn’t this delectable plethora be fun to pair with various soda pop choices from your Arcadia library of soda pop? Talk about overindulgence - yikes!

Components in the SRT food pyramid: Meat - smoked or cured or medium rare grilled over a really hot fire; Cheese - in this case, Scamorza; Grapes (yep, they’re there, in a particular form); Bread; Olives - any kind, but these blue cheese stuffed ones bottled in olive oil, are sublime; Sweets.

Meat, cheese, grapes, bread, olives, sweets - the perfect ingredients for a lovely fall picnic. No inclination for a picnic?!  That’s OKAY. These are the PERFECT ingredients for anything (please no comments about a heart attack - this is meant to be a fun post - age means we’ve learned balance, right?).

Nougat. My first. Definitely, not my last.

Cholesterol?! How DARE that word appear anywhere in this post!

SRT Basic Food Groups - purchased here, Lovera's Grocery, Krebs, Oklahoma

I decided to climb a mountain because it’s been on my list of things to do for years. And I love crossing things off a list. I’ve been known to ADD things (already done) to a list, only so I could take the immense pleasure in crossing them off.  Something about making those strike-throughs is SO gratifying. I realize that’s wacked, and wackier still is publicly admitting such.

That doesn’t really answer why I did it, does it?  I did it, because I could.  Flippant.  Okay, here’s another try: I did it because I could and another in my life, a beloved other, can’t.  Truth.

My sister has Multiple Sclerosis.  Before the disease, SHE was the adventurous one. Climbing trees and riding a bike around cow paddies and over dirt roads like a mad woman, she was one fearless child.  She’s my inspiration in life. Her spirit and passion and resolve are lava-like - hot enough to have frightened the disease into not having stripped away all her physical capabilities.

The disease is afraid of her. That’s not to say it hasn’t won in some regards.  SHE can’t climb a mountain. SHE can’t hike into the backcountry. She can’t take an Animal Tracking course or ride a bike. Some days she can’t climb 2 stairs.  And some days, she struggles to get from her bedroom to the living room.

It seems only right that because I can and she cannot, I should.  So I do.  And she’s right beside me every grueling step of these hair-brained, a bit out there escapades I relish.  When I feel myself getting lazy and making excuses for not having done anything physically challenging in a while, I sense her kicking me in the pants. She’s my mental barometer against too many bon bons and a soft city life; against taking my health for granted.

My hope is that at the end, my physical exploits will have been enough for TWO healthy, adventurous explorers whose good health wasn’t squandered on cushy hotel rooms and pointless shopping trips.

I climbed a mountain because it is my job to make up for the strike-throughs in her life not made by her own hand. Damn them all.

Two Explorers

In the movie Open Range with Kevin Costner and Robert Duvall, there’s a scene where Robert Duvall walks into the dry goods store to buy chocolate and cigars before the big shoot-out.  If he and Costner were going to die at the hands of the bad guys, they were going a) with their boots on and b) with the taste of chocolate and cigars fresh on their tongues. Duvall to the dry goods’ store owner: ” I’m thinking about some candy”; the owner replies “…got anythang you want”. Duvall: “What’s the most expensive ya got?” Store owner: “Got just the thang. This is daaark chocoliaate,,,, comes all the from SwitzerLAND Europe,,,that’s near Fraunce, see. Thay call it bittersweet,,, mealts in your mouth.” Duvall takes 2 pieces of the expensive candy, so expensive the dry goods’ owner had never tried it, “truth eus, we caan’t afford it.” It’s one of my favorite scenes of the movie (there are several).

There is much to be discussed about the climb to the top of Grand Teton - most of which is serious, somewhat heady stuff.  Therein lies the problem. I’m weary of serious.  Since announcing the Grand Climb back in January, serious has been the standard household emotion dispensed freely around here.  Chocolate has also been seriously lacking, which likely has contributed to the overall pervasive seriousness.  I looked up “serious” in the thesaurus so as to give myself a break from writing it, you from reading it. There is no good substitute. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. It’s been serious around here.

A brown, square package arrived today on the front porch. It’s simple exterior gave no clue to its contents. For fun, I began to take photos as I unwrapped it. I didn’t care if they were out of focus or poorly lit (I’ve been taking my photography way too seriously as well). A package addressed to me that I hadn’t paid for was here and I pawed at it happily like a cat with a new yarn ball.

It’s CHOCOLATE!!!!!!

From SwitzerLAND!!!!!!!

No time was wasted.

Milk came quickly onto the scene.  Normally, I would have drank it straight from the container, but I caught a serious cold on the mountain and didn’t want my nurse to catch it. Quick! How many times has “serious” been used in this post?!

The seriousness is gone. In its place, a stomach ache is coming on… a discomfort I’ll happily deal with. Thank you my Swiss friend. Thank you.

It might as well have been the moon.  Surreal to a degree that supports the possibility it didn’t happen at all, I’m suspended in a slow motion movie without sound. Maybe I dreamt it.  A thick haze has spread its blanket and laid full claim to my reality today, the first day home since August 28th (2009).

But it did happen. There are pictures and witnesses to collaborate the fact I summitted my first mountain. I look at the pictures, study them, feeling the somewhat detached wonder and elation for another’s achievement. A second glance to enjoy the enviable satisfaction on her face, and I realize, oddly, the face is mine.

Grand Teton

Dreams, ya know? You remember those, right? Like cayenne pepper in the back of your throat, or a hangnail on a dry cuticle, they nag at you.

Given the proper combination of elements, dreams become spewing blow torches of fuel, of oxygen and fire. The flame is constant and hot, paralyzing even in the warmth of its seduction. They have the power to ruin lives. Or to make a life unforgettably and without measure, extraordinary.

Conditioning for the Grand Teton summit bid has continued in Jackson, Wyoming.  In the actual environment the climb will take place, my body aches from the intensity that cannot be duplicated in a gym. Here, I’m faced with the reality of what it is I’m attempting. Confronted daily with a view of Grand Teton standing at 13,770 feet, an iteration of the dream has taken place.

It’s not about the summit anymore. I WILL be disappointed should I not summit. Six months of my life have been dedicated to strict training and diet. Fear has been and continues to be battled. But I will stand at the base of the mountain knowing I pursued this dream with all my might.

The external/physical risks are great. But they’re minuscule, insignificant even, in light of the greatest potential trauma. Failure at the attempt, while painful and disappointing, would be nothing compared to the internal trauma of not having made the attempt at all. A dream without pursuit is a trauma that breeds regret.

Within days of the attempt, the bid for the summit has become a technicality.

The Attempt

Don’t tell me you’re not capable of the same dedicated, passionate pursuit of your own dreams. You are.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” — 1994 Inaugural Speech of Nelson Mandela