Since this is my littil online diary I feel like wanting to stay true to all the goings-on in my wandering life on these pages as well.
In summer 2015 I missed out on my second chance to go to Elbrus in Georgia. With its magnificent 5642 meters, Mount Elbrus stands as the highest mountain in Europe and nothing really says I would have even summited (or gotten close or been lucky with the weather), but… It was a dream I had had for 9 years.
And that was it. Come 2016 and I promised myself that from now on I’d go after at least one big dream destination a year. I don’t like when they stay the same for too long. I need them fresh, young and alive. (And you just meet some of the best people on those roads.)
The decision was a clear one. I decided not miss out on a Caucasus Mountain trip this year. Let’s just call it an active celebration of a decade-long dream. Or a wordless longing that seems to take over my life when I’m not near or on a mountain in every couple of months. (And one day, in all of those one days to come, I will try to write about that feeling. I know that there are books written on that same thing, but they are written by others, not me.)
So, in early spring I signed myself up for a trip to Mount Kazbek. It is one of the major mountains of the Caucasus and the third highest in Georgia (5,033 m). Mount Kazbek lays on the border of Georgia and Russia, and looks stunningly inviting and seriously demanding (for me, at least) and just so perfect for a good… week in the thin air. It also looked like a spot-on location for having the mountain gods look over my first trip to a higher than a +3000 m altitude. The plan was made and approved. All the romantic mountaineers of my mind were swooning.
I started training. Not just doing my regular sports but consciously training. That included everything from running to strength training, from kettlebells to TRX. I wanted to increase my endurance while becoming a bit stronger. I was out there in the drizzle after a long day of podcast writing, travel copywriting or PhD thesis writing (just give it to me, I’ll write anything! 🙂 ), always making sure I’d stick to my hand-drawn schedule on my corkboard. You know how it is – train during daytime, read and dream about the region at night. Wake up with a smile.
And 2 weeks ago, today, I tore a muscle in my left calf. Days later, bruising also appeared. That means that the muscle fibers that got damaged were some pretty deep ones.
My trip to Georgia starts in 16 days from today. All in all, it would only be a month of healing for the littil calf. Which is looking to be too little indeed.
That’s all I know this afternoon. I’ll probably know more things in a couple of days, after my third physio session. But I’m getting myself ready to write a new number into that red circle on the paper.
That is life.
PS. What is amazing, though – are the people of the Central London Osteopathy and Sports Injury Clinic. Just saying.