A final farewell from the two blondes

And so, our adventure is over.

Photos and stories have been shared, the bruises have faded and the niggling injuries are starting to heal. The last few sponsors have been 'nudged' for the cash they promised us and we now have a total of £4870 plus over £800 gift aid.

Our fundraising page doesn't expire until the end of the year and will remain open for donations 'til then, but our work here is pretty much done.

It has been one hell of a year, full of ups and downs.

I'm not sure I would say that the trek was life-changing, but this year in general has been pretty epic and of course our charity challenge had its role to play in that.

Watch out, here comes the sappy bit.

Aside from raising so much money for a cause so close to my heart, the best thing I can say that I've got from this whole experience is a wonderful friend in Katie. I'm not sure there is anyone else I could have gone through this with and had the friendship survive intact. Her always positive, can-do attitude balanced out my glass-half-empty approach to life perfectly, and I could always rely on her to keep me motivated. From the first day of training to the last day of the trek, she was right there with me, kicking my ass and giving me hugs in equal measure as and when required.

I've said thank you to all of you on many occasions, and I am incredibly grateful to all of you for your unending support. But the one person I have neglected to thank is my lovely Katie.

So... thank you my friend. This trek (in fact, this year in general) would not have been half as much fun without you. Despite all the stress/pain/exhaustion, I have had an absolute blast. I still can't believe we actually did it, and I'm so proud of both of us, but I'm particularly proud of you. You are wonderful, and I look forward to our catch-up lunch soon. You don't get rid of me that easy.

It's been fun, guys. Thanks for reading. There may be a new blog from me in the near future, since I have enjoyed getting back into blogging again. But for now, I have a new flat to move into and friends to catch up with.

The Two Blondes took on their mountain, and they survived. Not only that, they raised over £5000 for the James Hopkins Trust's Overnight Campaign.

Pretty freaking cool, no?

if everything could ever feel this real forever

As I finally sit down to write this post, it is already more than a week since we finished our trek to the top of Jebel Toubkal in the High Atlas Mountains. I'm told I have a gift for the written word, but when it comes to describing Toubkal, I'm not sure any words will be good enough.

That being said, I have been keeping this blog (mostly) up to date since January, so I shall give it my best.

I'm not sure I really knew what I was signing up for when Katie convinced me to do this. It was perhaps a little naive, having had no real trekking experience before, and no real fitness to speak of. But I believe the wording in the literature said that it was 'tough' but do-able if you had a healthy lifestyle and trained regularly for 3 months beforehand. And I figured, well, I can do that right? If I train for 9 months then surely I'd be fine, no stress.

I don't think I'm alone from our group of 16 in thinking that the trek was harder than any of us had imagined. I'm fairly sure that they brushed over just how difficult the terrain would be at points, and when it said 'some bouldering', I certainly underestimated what that would mean. I wrote pages and pages of notes in my book during the trip, but I will try to keep the reciting of events to a minimum.

The first day was pretty much fine. All uphill, obviously, but we started at a reasonable hour after a good breakfast at the hotel and a 2 hour drive to the starting point. The sun was shining, it was warm but not unbearable and we were all feeling positive about the days ahead.

I think I only really had one period of 'I can't do this' on that first day, which was my own fault for slacking on keeping myself going with food I think. I started to feel very low on energy and the refuge was still a long way in the distance. But that didn't last, and with Katie singing 'just keep swimming' at me, and the refuge eventually on the horizon, I gave myself a mental talking to and pulled it together.

After a decent dinner and an early night (seriously, we all went to bed at like, 9pm), I was ready to face the big challenge of the summit on day two, even if it meant a terrifyingly early 5am wake-up call.

I'm not sure I can quite find the words to explain day two. Most of us woke feeling nervous I think, and breakfast was difficult for us to stomach at such an early hour. We soon heard that two of our group, Aileen and Kirsteen, would not be coming with us due to altitude sickness and they would be leaving within the next couple of hours to get back to the village where they could hopefully recover.

Katie casually mentioned that she didn't feel so great. She spoke to our guide and medic, Gwynn, but she seemed pretty determined that she would be coming to the summit. As I was about to get booted up, I went to check on her and found her in tears. She was not in a good way, she had fainted, and she was in no state to climb a mountain.

Feelings at this point are hard to describe. I've gotten to know Katie pretty well over the last nine months, there is nothing quite like needing to raise £3100 and then climb a mountain with a person to bring you together. I'm not sure about Katie, but I hadn't really contemplated one of us not being there at the summit, and the thought of having to face the whole ordeal without my buddy was almost unbearable. Seeing her upset broke my heart, and as I left her to go get ready for the climb, I was a bit of an emotional wreck myself.

With Katie at the front of my thoughts, and the cover of my 'bible', 'keep calm and carry on', on my mind, I knew I had no choice but to do exactly that. I was not prepared for what we were to face for the next almost six hours. It was constant and unrelenting; boulders to climb over and negotiate, scree to avoid slipping on. I wasn't sure about taking them initially, but without the walking poles, I would have been lost. The higher we got, the colder it became. After a couple of hours, to my horror, I discovered that my water had frozen. (Credit for photos to Neelam and King Louie, from whom these photos are 'borrowed')

There was only one way to get through it. Focussing on putting one foot in front of the other, taking it in tiny small chunks and not thinking about the bigger picture. My heart sank at one point when someone told me that we weren't even halfway; progress was incredibly slow in those first few hours and if I ever had any doubts about my ability to reach the summit, this was when it really took hold. I called upon some of the messages from my book, one in particular, which reminded me why I was doing this and inspired me to keep going.

Eventually, just before midday, we spotted our destination through the mist and knew that within half an hour, we would be there. That gave me the boost I needed and I powered onwards, barely feeling the cold anymore at all. And then, suddenly, there it was. We'd done it. There were no views to speak of because the weather was so appalling, but we were at the top of Toubkal, no doubt about it, and it felt almost surreal. Hugs were exchanged, photos were taken (with credit to again Neelam and King Louie, from whom most of these photos were 'borrowed'):

(that's me in the distance there)

(you can just see me at the back there)

You may notice that I look a little... blue. I have to say that I didn't actually realise just how cold I was in the end, I just seemed to stop feeling it. I was shocked when I got a good look at the photograph, which was only after pretty much the first words out of my girlfriends mouth when I eventually got to speak to her were... "you were blue!!"

Once the photos were taken and we had gathered ourselves, there was only one thing to be done. Start the descent. I won't bore you with all the details of this bit, but what I will tell you is that going down a mountain is so much harder than climbing up one. I had clearly used up the largest part of my energy getting to the summit, and as we started to walk back down I realised that my legs really didn't want to hold me up anymore. Let's just say I fell at least a dozen times. Ski slopes of scree are not my specialty, especially when my legs have decided "nope, done enough work today I'm having no more of this" and given in. I needed the support of our guides and a lovely member of our group, Kate, to make it to the refuge in one piece.

I believe that by the time we got back to the refuge we had been on the go for almost 10 hours, and the remaining part of the day was spent eating and trying to rest up for the final descent on day three.

You would think that day three would have been the easy one, but for me this wasn't the case. In one of my dozen or so falls the previous day, I had twisted my knee and it was giving me a little 'jip'. It was a long 5/6 hour walk back down that mountain and a lot of it was torture and I just kept on walking. The flat, smooth bits of the path were fine, but as you can probably imagine, when walking down a mountain those types of paths are few and far between! As I put more and more strain on my knee, it got progressively more and more painful and it was incredibly frustrating for me as I tried and pretty much failed to keep up with the majority of the group. As on the previous day, I wouldn't have got through it without the support of our wonderful guides and other members of the group who would frequently check up on me, or stop to help me step down from particularly large or tricky boulders.

Finally, finally, finally we reached the village that marked our (almost) finish line, where we stopped for lunch. It was at this point that Katie once again emerged from the guest house she had been put up in with two of the other girls, and my God was she ever a sight for sore eyes. I pretty much launched myself at her for hugs and immediately felt better for being back with my buddy. After lunch and a catch up, we walked the final half hour or so to the bus, and returned exhausted to Marrakech.

The group we were with were amazing, and to be honest they probably deserve a blog post all of their own. But instead, I will share with you this group photo:

Even as I sit here now and recap, it does not seem real, though I'm sure it will sink in eventually. It was, without doubt, one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. I definitely think we underestimated how tough it would be; we were perhaps a little naive. But we did it, and I couldn't be more proud of us.

Currently, our fundraising total stands at a pretty magnificent £4710, though I have a bunch of people who wrote on our sponsor form who haven't paid up yet, so I'm hoping that we'll add a good wee amount to that yet. When you take into account Gift Aid (of which I think we raised approximately £800), then we're looking at a grand total of well over £5000 which is more than Katie and I could have ever dreamed of.

So it is done. Our amazing adventure is over and not much remains to be said other than thank you. To every single one of you. Without you we could never have raised as much money as we have for the James Hopkins Trust and we just can't thank you enough. Not only have you been incredibly generous financially, but you have indulged us in our many random and ridiculous fundraising endeavours, you have read countless entries of my blog and put up with post after post on Facebook asking you to give us money.

You are all my heroes. Thank you.

And that almost brings an end to this blog. Now our challenge is complete, there is really nothing more to be said. I have perhaps one final entry planned, and that will be that.

For now, this is half of the two blondes, signing off.

keep calm and carry on

This is my bible:

I will be using it to write while I am away, because I will be lost without any means to write. However, it now also contains some useful quotes in readiness for times of need, some messages of support from friends and family, and some useful bits of advice from my girlfriend. Highlights include "don't fall off", "stay away from scorpions" a mini episode of the Archers (written by Jo) in case I miss it while I'm away, and my personal favourite, this: 

You see, I can't pack for shit. My spatial awareness does not exist. So I've just spent the last couple of hours sitting quietly and trying not to get in the way as Jo somehow managed to get all of my kit into my rucksack. Because she isn't coming with me, she has drawn me the above handy diagram so that I know how to pack ready to come home.

I am really that crap, and she really is that good to me. We haven't really been apart from more than one night before, so six days is going to be quite the wrench for me. She's the best.

Generally, now my kit is packed, I'm feeling ok. People have been amazingly generous and we're now almost at £4400. My dad told me today that if we include gift aid in that, we've cracked the £5000 mark. It's mind blowing. And I can't thank you enough.

There is of course still time to sponsor us. A huge thank you to those who have done so today, you guys are the best.

The rest of you can make a huge difference to JHT by heading to our sponsorship page here.

the final countdown

I've had a pretty good few days. This weekend Jo and I went to Malvern to get in one final big hill walk before the trip. We walked 25 miles across 2 days, covering pretty much the length of the Malvern Hills and climbing over 4000ft (not all at once, there was a lot of walking up and down then up again). I did all of this while carrying a fairly heavy pack on my back, so overall I was pretty pleased with how the weekend went. Not only that, but we managed to escape the rain completely, and this morning as I crawled out of bed to head to work, I felt achey but pretty positive.

I got a few photos, like this one: 

Today was a pretty freaking good day too, as we managed to go past our target of £4000. In fact, we are now at an astounding £4197, which is incredibly exciting and a huge motivator for me, and I'm sure for Katie too.

My plan now, with only 4 days and 3 hours to go until D-Day, is to head to the gym after work tomorrow to do one last session on the treadmill, but that will be it then. The rest of the week will be spent preparing/packing/last minute panic-buying. And finalising my mountain playlist of course. All suggestions still welcome.

On top of all of that, we found out today that we have a flat inspection on Wednesday, so I have to get back to cleaning the flat for now...

Still time for sponsor us, here.

a call to arms

Firstly, an apology to all the people I made cry when they read my previous post! And a big thank you to all who have sent me feedback and words of love, I really appreciate all of your kind messages.

Which brings me to the subject of today’s post. We need YOU.

We are well into the final countdown now, with only 10 days to go until we fly to Morocco. Katie and I are busy with final preparations, making last minute purchases and generally flitting between excitement and terror on an almost hourly basis.

Katie and I work well together, despite (or because of) the fact that we are almost polar opposites. She is bright and cheery, she is Ms Motivator, always positive and upbeat. I am… well, none of those things. One thing we do have in common though, is a love of music. Music is one of the most important things in the world to me, has got me through some of the toughest times of my life. So in these last few days before we head off, I am looking to pull together a list of motivational songs that we can call on when we need that little extra push up the mountain. Katie has already advised that she is planning to sing most of the way up (I had a full rendition of Survivor by Destiny’s Child last night, apparently our anthem), but what we need from you is some suggestions for other songs we can add to our list. It can be anything you consider to be appropriate, whether they will inspire or just plain make us laugh. Suggestions from a colleague this morning included Ain’t No Mountain, and Katie is also keen on ‘she’ll be coming round the mountain…’.

I was given another idea today that requires your assistance. It was suggested that we should ask people to write us some notes or messages of support and motivation that we can call upon when times get tough. If you should feel so inclined, you can send a note to sophhopkins84@gmail.com or katherinefionaparker@gmail.com and we can take them with us.

I have also promised to try and keep updating Twitter and Facebook as much as possible while I'm away. I don't know what internet access will be like, but if you tweet, feel free to follow me on twitter @sophhopkins.

And now it is time for me to start researching high calorie snack bars. The fun just never stops...

panic on the streets of Cheltenham

anx·i·e·ty

noun, distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune

If there is one subject I am an expert on, it’s anxiety (and 20^th century history, but that’s irrelevant at the moment).

Anxiety is my mortal enemy, it has plagued my life for the last 10 years. At times, it has been my only constant, my only friend, and the perfect excuse to hide from the world and not even try. It destroyed my life when I left University and had a breakdown. It took me a long time to fight my way back from that; I couldn’t eat, sleep, leave the house or even be on my own for more than a few minutes at a time. It controlled every inch of me.

You think you know me. You think I’m just a bit of a miserable cow, you tell me to smile, cheer up, it might never happen. You tell me to just chill out. But you don’t know me. You don’t know what I have been through, the crippling depression I have dealt with (and still often do). You don’t know how often I find it hard to even get out of bed in the morning, or do the things I have to in order to lead a ‘normal’ life.

I can go months without feeling any anxiety at all. It lulls you into this false sense of security, to the point where you think you’ve got the bastard beaten, though you never really do. You think you’re coping fine and then suddenly you realise that you have pushed yourself too hard, things are starting to overwhelm you and you have to take some kind of action before things get out of hand again. I’m good at picking up on those signs now, and I am always prepared to do what needs to be done to stop myself from spiralling.

So you see, I know anxiety. I know how it feels, I recognise the signs, that familiar lump in my throat, that weight on my chest and sense of unreality as my breathing gets quicker and my head starts to spin. I know what causes it, what tiny little thoughts I didn’t even realise had passed through my brain to trigger the overwhelming feeling of ‘oh my god I have got to run away I cannot do this, I cannot do this, I cannot do this…’

Those thoughts have been creeping in over the last couple of weeks as the day gets ever closer. There are so many things to worry about, all building up to overwhelm me. I’m scared of flying. I’m worried about food. I’m worried about being in a foreign country for 6 days. I’m worried I’m not fit enough, that I won’t make it to the top. I’m terrified that I will have an anxiety attack halfway up the mountain. I’m scared I will be affected by altitude sickness. I’m scared of letting Katie down, of letting down the people who have sponsored us. Basically, I’m just plain worried.

The other day I went to the gym and anxiety stopped me from doing more than half an hour on the treadmill. Today at work I started to panic about all the things I still have to do to get ready, the equipment I need to get, the things I need to organise and the training I still need to do. I’ve been getting overwhelmed again, and as much as I know how to deal with that, there is always that initial period of sticking my head in the sand and trying to avoid, avoid, avoid, until I realise what I’m doing and give myself a mental slap round the face. So today I started to get my act together, had lunch with Katie, talked through a few things and started to formulate a plan of action.  

This is a difficult post to write, because even as I sit here and type I can feel the familiar tightening in my throat as anxiety takes over. But you see there is something I have learned in these last 10 years and that is to “just keep swimming”. I read a lot of self-help books during my many attempts at recovery and a lot of it was useless toss, but there was one phrase which has stuck with me more than any other and has swiftly become my motto for life; feel the fear and do it anyway.

Feel the fear and do it anyway.

It works, you know. In the years since I adopted that motto I have conquered my fear of flying (mostly), before getting on a plane alone and flying to the States. I’ve applied for jobs I didn’t think I could get, and got them. I’ve put myself through the torture of internet dating (albeit very briefly) and meeting new people. I have stopped running away from a relationship that means a lot to me and finally allowed myself to be happy. And I’ve signed up with a friend to trek through the Atlas Mountains in Morocco in 15 days.

I’ve been through a lot these last 10 years, but I sit here now, 29 years old and a stronger person than I have ever been. A happier person that I have ever been. Anxiety has arguably never had less control over my life. And you know what, I’m going to make it to the top of this mountain and I’m going to stand there with a dear friend and I’m going to say this: ‘fuck you, anxiety. I made it’.  

Feel the fear, and do it anyway. 

Try it. I dare you

18 days to go

18 days to go.

Plans for this weekend didn't quite go as we had hoped, but I did manage to fit in a trip to the gym yesterday followed by a 10 mile walk from Nailsworth to Stroud and back again today. It was a pretty good walk; lots of hills and at times it was painful but by the time we got back I was still feeling pretty good on it. I was a little worried because one of the friends we went with would stride ahead at speed, but I kept to my own pace and refused to rush. In a few weeks I'm doing this three days running and stamina is what's going to matter most, not who can get to the top first. It wasn't great for my morale, but I'm sure I'll get over it.

So, with so little time to go now, Jo has been pushing me to go to the gym or walk every day after work. Already this is proving difficult, because we have an appointment to look at a flat tomorrow (we are desperate to move now - slight issues with our current place making it difficult to put up with being here). But hopefully we'll be done at the flat early enough to make it possible to head up Leckhampton Hill, and I'll try to get to the gym Wednesday or Thursday.

This week I also need to sit down and really read the itinerary for the trip and all the boring crap like that. I've been avoiding it for weeks now, but I guess now is the time to stop living in denial and get myself ready. That also means shopping for some bits for my kit (clothes, mainly). There is just too much to do and not enough time to fit it in.

Panic, panic, panic, panic...