Climb for Hospice

Yesterday I went to Vancouver to meet my good friend Eran for lunch. I took transit in and, as is now my habit, I hopped off at the first stop after the bridge, and walked the rest of the way into the city. It usually takes about 90 minutes or so to get where I need to go after I ditch the train.

I’ve been doing this to help prepare myself for the fact that in 5 weeks I will be walking EVERYWHERE, and in 6 weeks I will be walking up A MOUNTAIN.

The thing about yesterday’s walk is that it was about a bazgillion* degrees outside, and the sidewalks were little convection ovens. Not to rehash it, but really, if I were a cannibal, yesterday would have been totally awesome, because all my food would have come pre-cooked.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway, I slogged through the heat (and LOVED it), and felt my fingers go all fat and tingly with edema. The sweat was rolling off of me (Although I am a woman, I do not “glow”. I sweat like a drunken sailor in a whore house…. ew… ok, that may have been inappropriate. And quite a disturbing visual), and the sun was turning my once pasty-white skin into a gorgeous shade of sickly red.

However, as I was walking along (read: running from tree shade pool to tree shade pool), I realized that it was just about as hot as it is going to be in Africa, but I’ll be slogging up a frikken’ mountain. In hiking boots. With Ali swearing at me and throwing rocks at my sweltering head.

But the upside is that I’ll be walking towards, you know, a freaking GLACIER. So there’s that.

I love this Vancouver weather. You won’t hear me complaining about the heat! I’m a warm-weather kind of gal, and it makes me happy when I’m warm tapas for cannibals.

Bring it on, Kilimanjaro!

*Bazgillion may or may not be an actual number