Kilimanjaro: Now It Gets Serious

Landed.

Landing in Tanzania. In the middle of the night, right next to Kilimanjaro. All that preparation is slowly becoming reality.

Today is all about arriving, getting to know the surroundings and somehow letting my mind catch up. Tomorrow, we're heading to a coffee farm, a waterfall and a regional lunch.

So really, it's still quite a relaxed start. And yet I can slowly feel it very clearly: now it gets serious.

My mind is gradually arriving in Tanzania. At the same time, the excitement is growing ever stronger.

Because I can see Kilimanjaro from my lodge.

Suddenly, there it is

As part of my preparation, I have seen countless pictures of Kilimanjaro. I've looked at maps, studied routes, analysed elevation profiles and spent months focused on this mountain.

But actually seeing it in front of you is something else entirely.

It rises from the otherwise relatively flat landscape as almost the only major elevation. Green at the bottom, with densely vegetated slopes, then this huge mountain higher up, and at the very top, white with ice and snow.

It almost looks a little unreal.

And above all, it is far bigger and more impressive than I had imagined.

When you work towards something for months, it eventually becomes a project. You deal with training plans, equipment, travel planning, costs and organisational details. The mountain itself is somehow always there, yet still far away at the same time.

Now it is no longer far away.

Now I'm standing here and can simply see it.

Doubts.

And with this view, of course, all the questions that had come up again and again during preparation return.

Only a little louder.

Will I really manage it?

Will everything go well?

Did what I prepared over the past few months actually make sense?

And will it all work the way I imagined it would?

Have I done enough?

Over the past few months, I have worked consistently towards this moment.

I made training plans and adjusted them again and again. Trained for many, many hours. Spent time on inclined treadmills, ran up stairwells, lifted weights and completed long hikes.

Then there was the search for the right provider, scheduling, travel arrangements, researching the right equipment and, finally, buying it all.

I also looked into the medical side of things as thoroughly as I could.

There were an incredible number of individual things that somehow had to come together in the end.

I'm often quite chaotic in everyday life.

But when it really matters, I also try to leave as little as possible to chance.

That was definitely the case with this trip.

That's why I think I can say with a clear conscience that I did everything within my power to prepare as well as possible.

Could I have done more?

Definitely.

I could have trained more. Gained more elevation. Invested more time in preparation.

Should I have started earlier?

That probably wouldn't have been a bad idea either.

But alongside Project K, there is also a real life that needs to be lived.

Family. Work. Everyday life.

Even as it was, I asked a lot of my family over the past few months—especially their time and patience. Training in the evenings and at weekends, long hikes, travel planning and constantly some new piece of equipment suddenly lying around everywhere at home.

That's why I am incredibly happy and grateful that they have supported all of this and supported me along the way. Without that support, neither the preparation nor the whole undertaking would have been possible.

Now I can't prepare anything else

And that brings me to a point where there is really nothing left for me to prepare.

• The training is done.
• The equipment is here.
• I'm in Tanzania.
• The mountain is right in front of me.

There really isn't anything else to do right now.

That sounds easier than it feels to me.

Because, of course, my mind would love to go through everything one more time. Check the packing list one more time. Wonder one more time whether the training was enough. Play through every possible problem one more time.

But at some point, that has to stop too.

Arrive.

Now it's about switching off my mind a little.

Being in the here and now.

Taking in Tanzania.

Enjoying the next few days.

And then simply letting whatever happens come my way.

I don't know whether my preparation will be enough in the end.

I don't know how my body will react to the altitude.

And I don't know whether everything will work the way I imagined it over the past few months.

But that is exactly why I'm here.

To find out.

Kilimanjaro?

I can't wait.

I'll see you the day after tomorrow.