The Climb (part 2)

The Climb part 2

This blog was started in 2007 and for some strange reason I was not able to finish it

My memory fails me now as I attempt to recall the first climb in 2007 that triggered some changes in me as a person… imperceptible yet meaningful.

However I felt compelled to finish this blog if only to put some sense of closure.

The journey started in our old cramped office in Pasong Tamo, the so-called Big Brother house, a conference room that had been converted into improvised workstations. It was in this room that four guys coexisted: Lester, Gian, Martin and me.

Lester, the self appointed Big Brother, toyed first with idea of a hike suggesting that the activity would help us maintain a healthy lifestyle (Lester was considerably gaining some weight, and the extra pounds were taking an extra toll on him)

So we contacted Jesse James our regular IT guy whose pictures from his mountain climbing escapades were gleefully spread all over his friendster photo album. A date was set , Mt. Makiling would be the place, and James would be our guide.

However as the date approached, one by one each resident begged off. (Somehow I was not surprised. The very same thing happened to my Dole Asia colleagues when we planned the Matutum climb)

I have lived on earth long enough to notice that gimmicks thought of on the spur of the moment have a greater chance of pushing through rather than the ones meticulously planned. You can get the affirmation when the plan is laid out but somehow when the day comes people just come up with excuses.

The GBS Mezzanine folks had a catchy term for this… “drawing”.

Needless to say with the other “drawing” residents out, the thought of going to the climb no longer seemed palatable.

However they haven’t factored out my stubborn nature. I guess it was something I learned from my dad. Once my heart is set unto something there would be no letting go unless absolutely necessary.

My fellow residents in a way have abandoned me and somehow I felt betrayed. But I had to stick to my word. I guess it was something I owed to myself.

That morning of May 5, 2007 the thought of going back to sleep and letting go of the foolish plan was very tempting. I could just cuddle underneath the warmth of my blanket and text James I couldn’t make it and come up with some valid excuse.

But there was a call that I had to respond. There was a promise I had to keep. There was something unexplainable that I had to prove.

And no lame excuse, no hurt feelings, no sense of abandonment, not even a body that refused to move, could stop me from conquering my damn mountain that day.

And so I clutched my mountain pack and did the most basic of all heroic acts. Show up.

(to be continued)