#RealityCheck – Deano's World

Everest: Perspective

04/04/201929/12/2020Mark "Deano" Dean

So far this blog has been about my preparation for the Everest Rugby Challenge, written in a somewhat haphazard manner and outlining my distinctly #1stWorldProblems. With just 10 days to go until we leave I think a touch of perspective about genuine hardships and real struggle is needed. It is also a good way of showing some of the incredible work that Wooden Spoon do to try and improve the lives of disabled or disadvantaged children and their families around the UK.

Wooden Spoon is a charity that changes children’s lives through the power of rugby. Each year they fund around 70 projects, from community programmes and specialist playgrounds to medical treatment centres and sensory rooms. Since 1983, they’ve distributed over £26 million to more than 700 projects, helping more than a million children.

At the recent Wooden Spoon Ball the one thing that stood out for me was the speech given by Belinda King, the head teacher of Kobi Nazrul primary school. I don’t mean to say that there was anything wrong with the ball, far from it, it is just that for me her speech summed up the reason for being there in the first place.

When you hear someone like Belinda King speak so eloquently and passionately about the tangible benefits her pupils have had from the works carried out by Wooden Spoon you are rushed through a whole spectrum of emotion. You are, of course, immensely proud of the fact that you are part of the team fundraising for this incredible charity. You are overwhelmingly sad that today, in a country as wealthy and privileged as ours, so many still have to rely on charities to give them opportunities many people in that room would have considered normal. You also feel incredibly guilty that you are sat in the ballroom at the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane eating delicious food and bidding on luxury items. There is a moment of clarity where you realise that you are, in point of fact, privileged almost beyond measure.

Lastly you wonder why someone would be cutting up raw onions so close to you during someone’s speech.

I think it was around this time I finally started to understand why I had made good on my promise to go to Everest. Being honest I had considered withdrawing on a great many occasions over the last few months. I felt I was not fit enough and even if I could complete the trek but I couldn’t look after more than just myself that this would be letting everyone else down. I was also worried about whether or not I was doing it for the right reasons. I believed that the reason for joining an expedition like this should not be about the records or the adventure but about helping people who needed it: The “story” was just a PR tool to promote the charitable aims.

I suppose, to me, if none of us leave the UK and the match does not even get played we have still raised enough money to change the lives of a large number of disadvantaged and disabled children all over the UK. That is the core of what we are doing and in my opinion the part that actually matters: The other stuff is simply the icing on top. There are a great many people in the UK who do not get the chances, opportunities or start in life afforded to people like me simply because of the peculiarities of their birth. I don’t want to lose sight of that or forget why we are going to Everest in the first place. I said right at the start of this blog I felt that the journey was the worthier part of this expedition and the closer it gets the more convinced I am that I was right.

Everest: What A Difference A Month Makes

30/10/201829/12/2020Mark "Deano" Dean

After discovering quite how unfit I was on a team training weekend in the Lake District I decided to get as many miles/hours on a mountain as possible in addition to the usual cardio stuff in the gym. I suspected that there is really no substitute to pulling the boots on and getting out on the hill. I live near the North Downs so a few short treks up Titsey Hill to Botley Hill Farm were a decent boost but, being honest, not nearly challenging enough.

With a certain amount of trepidation I booked a “wedding anniversary” trip to Ambleside to treat my long-suffering wife, Buffy, to a spa break and purely coincidentally to have another crack at the Fairfield Horseshoe.

It started as all trips to the Lake District do when you live in Surrey; a bloody long drive. A stop off in Huntingdon to see a living legend called Mel Thompson helped break up the drive nicely. After a “few” Guinness had been sunk and he gave me some wise words of advice we drove the rest of the way wondering how on earth three people had managed to eat that much cheese. We were somewhere around Manchester when we finally remembered opening a bottle of Port at about 1am that morning.

After checking into the Low Wood Hotel & Spa we prepared for the next day’s walk. I decided to go the other way round (clockwise) the Horseshoe on this trip. This decision was entirely based on my assumption that going up Nab Scar could not be worse than descending Nab Scar. I should probably tell you that my decision-making is often suspect. For example, the previous trip had seen me drinking red wine in the hotel bar with Paul Jordan until 2am, based entirely on the premise that as I was fat and unfit there was no way I could feel worse the next day; I was wrong.

Much to my surprise I actually made a good call for once and the ascent went reasonably well.

For me. Unfortunately Buffy did not speak to me for the rest of the walk.

Fairfield Horseshoe is beautiful. Something I appreciated a whole lot more on the second attempt. The weather was perfect and the recent rain had not been heavy enough to turn the grass areas into a bog, meaning the going was very good. The best part however was the fact that I didn’t feel like I was suffocating with each step. I also didn’t think at any point that I wouldn’t make it round, something that certainly wasn’t the case on my first attempt the previous month.

We made good time along the ridge in near perfect weather watching the RAF running ultra low level training flights up and down the valleys below us. The breathtaking beauty of the Lake District was never more clear to see and it is no wonder it inspired Alfred Wainwright to explore and write so much about her. We made good time along the ridge from Heron Pike to Great Rigg and Buffy and I seemed to be the only people, aside from a lunatic running along carrying his mountain bike, going this way round. The weather closed in slightly as we arrived at Fairfield so we pressed on before sitting to “enjoy” the pack lunch from the hotel at the base of Dove Crag.

With the weather clearing up again nicely we set off on the return leg and started to encounter people coming the other way. There were less people than I expected given that the weather was so good for the time of year but then again it was a Monday in October. We took the stretch from Dove Crag along to High Pike and then down to Low Pike at a leisurely pace taking in the majestic views down to Ambleside and Lake Windermere. Worryingly we bumped into a family of four at Low Pike at around 2pm who were attempting the horseshoe in the opposite direction and who seemed very poorly prepared given the fact they only had two or three hours of sunlight left. It was however reassuring that there are still some people who are worse prepared than I am.

The descent was gentler on the knees going this way and this made the end of the work a great deal more enjoyable than the previous trip. The point of walking in the hills is, at least partially, to enjoy the experience and it is certainly fair to say I enjoyed this trip to Fairfield a lot more than the previous one. We arrived back to the hotel at around 1630 having left the car park at 1045 – a time of approximately five and a half hours was something I was comfortable with and I knew I could have gone faster if I had to.

As I relaxed the following day in the luxury of the Low Wood Spa I was pleased that progress has been made. I knew I was still overweight but recognised that I was at least fitter than I had been after years of sedentary life, injuries, surgery and all the associated self pity that inevitably goes with it. There was certainly some more work needed in the gym and it was vital I got back on the hill as soon as I could spare the time.

To my wife’s “delight” I had already booked a trip to Snowdonia to get some more miles under my belt on Snowdon. I figured that if it was good enough for George Mallory to train there before his trips to the Himalaya & Everest then it was definitely good enough for me.

Everest: Making Plans

09/10/201829/12/2020Mark "Deano" Dean

OK I have 185 days until I get on a plane to Nepal and at this point I am very aware that I am still 19 stone and I need to lose roughly another 3 stone. I am also aware that apart from the near death experience in the Lake District a few weeks back I haven’t really done much mountain walking since I did the Three Peaks in 2009.

I probably need to play a few games of rugby as well because if I can’t play a game at sea level in Surrey I suspect I might struggle a bit at over 6500m in Tibet.

I also need to work out how to replicate training at 6500m because unless there is a substantial, and as yet undiscovered 8000m high mountain, somewhere in the UK there are not many options locally for me to stagger up or fall down. I still need to climb a few of the usual UK peaks like Snowdon, Ben Nevis, Pen-y-Fan and Waun Fach and I have booked trips to Wales, The Lakes and Scotland over the next three months but I suspect they will just help with the cardio fitness rather than the altitude.

It isn’t all bad news as I’ve joined a gym, the Nuffield Health club, in Chislehurst just off the A20 so I can get in early on the way to the office. The even better news is that I’ve even been to it and no, to the cynical bastards among you, not just to use the Sauna and Jacuzzi. In fact I have dropped from over 20 stone to 19 stone since joining so I must be doing something right.

I’ve also managed to raise over £1000 of my £10,000 target through the kindness of donations from friends, family and other well wishers. If you can afford to donate to the fantastic charity that is Wooden Spoon and help me hit my fundraising target please click here

I have also been lucky enough to have received numerous suggestions and messages of support from friends and family. A friend of mine, we’ll call him “Dave”, who teaches mathematics has helped me break down all the problems, tasks and issues I have into simple formulae so it doesn’t all seem so daunting.

Helping Disadvantaged Kids = (Mountain + Rugby + Altitude + Pain) x Fundraising

(Mountains x Altitude) + (Gym + Rugby – Cake)/Gin* = Not Dying*

*Apparently to make these formula work Gin is a constant and Not Dying is a variable.

“Dave” also suggested I come up and play a few Vets games for my old club, Old Mid-Whitgiftian, in Sanderstead. He suggested this whilst lying on the sofa, watching Peppa Pig and moaning about his aches and pains from playing the day before and surrounded by used ice packs. The whole situation was made infinitely more amusing when his son ran in and jumped on him. I suspect it will take until the new year for me to find the necessary courage to actually pull a pair of boots on and run out on the pitch but I think it prudent to see if I can still catch and/or pass.

“Dave” also suggested I take up smoking because apparently research has shown that smokers do better at altitude than sensible people. As I very much suspect this research was done by the sort of people who write the “Six Months of Snow Hell and -20° C In May” weather reports for the Daily Express so I decided to take his suggestion “under advisement”. Apart from the other obvious disadvantages I wasn’t sure that making myself smell even worse on the side of a mountain was in anyone’s best interests least of all the poor unfortunate soul who has to share a tent with me.

I also just heard that the fabulous team at Wooden Spoon are also sorting out “Altitude Training” for all the challengers and this sounds both incredible and awful. Simulating the effects of playing rugby at 6500m sounds dangerously close to “simulated dying” on a mountain so I am nervously awaiting the details.

So between trips to mountains, suggestions from “Dave”, giving up cake, drinking Gin, going to the gym and “simulated dying” I have the basics of the plan to get me ready to play rugby on Everest. My wife liked this plan so much she recently increased my life insurance premium and has started saying things like “I will miss you forever you know”. In hindsight I am not sure watching the film Everest with her was such a good idea.

So the planning is done (ish) and now comes the hard work. It most probably will not be plain sailing but I am excited about seeing what I am actually capable of and how I can adapt to the curve balls thrown at me. The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft agley, An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, For promis’d joy!

Everest: Reality Check

23/09/201829/12/2020Mark "Deano" Dean

Have you ever had that feeling of trepidation when you look around a room and everyone there is so much more prepared than you? I’m in a briefing with the rest of the LMAX Exchange Everest Rugby Challenge team, listening to Dave and Carrie from Adventure Peaks telling us what to expect, and I’m pretty much shitting myself. To make it worse, they are only talking about the training walk around the Lake District tomorrow and not the actual trip to Everest.

It probably doesn’t help that since I last climbed any mountain I have had my L5 disk removed, recovered from a bout of ITP, torn the ACL in my left knee and eaten far too much cheese. I was pretty sure most of the people in that room could outperform me on the hill in their sleep and I was genuinely not even sure I’d make it out of Ambleside before I started struggling to breath.

The plan was a route known as the Fairfield Horseshoe which has a disarmingly cute “5 Fells” rating. What that actually means is that people who, like me, look more like Shrek after a substantial pie-eating contest than a mountaineer should seriously think twice about attempting it. The route itself starts and finishes in Ambleside and contains the following hills: Nab Scar, Low Pike, High Pike (Scandale), Heron Pike North Top, Heron Pike (Rydal), Hart Crag, Great Rigg, Fairfield, and Dove Crag. All in all, just over a 1000m climb and, with the trek in and out of Waterhead, roughly 20km of walking.

What that really means is a lot of up, followed by a lot more up and then a knee-breaking descent back down after taking in some spectacular views down towards Windermere and Coniston.

So, if that was the plan… what happened? It started well enough, but then again, I’d like to think I can walk through a town on a road with the best of them. As we started the climb out of Ambleside, the realisation that I was in for a tough day hit me, along with the fact that judging from the size of everybody else’s rucksacks I had, as usual, gratuitously over-packed.

The initial climb was certainly a reality check; it needed to be. Climbing Everest, even if only as far as the North Col, is not to be taken lightly. I knew that if I couldn’t walk up and down a mountain in the Lake District then I had absolutely no chance of doing that at 6500m in the Himalaya.

Barely an hour in and having only climbed a hundred metres or so I genuinely didn’t think that I was going to finish the day’s walk and once again started to wonder what on earth I was doing. I have no doubt that most of my companions also thought I wouldn’t be capable but that didn’t stop many of them offering encouragement throughout the day. Their kind words certainly helped me to keep putting one foot in front of the other and I’m pretty sure without them I probably wouldn’t have made it round.

Basically for the next two hours I walked up the side of a mountain trying to keep my breathing under control and focusing on nothing more than one painful step at a time. I could feel my heart racing in my chest as it got the toughest workout it had received in many a year. I also think at this point my fitbit had logically assumed that I had either accidentally put it in the washing machine or that I was being chased by a pride of Lions.

The route around the ridge was a relief, the weather holding off meant that we could see down to Windermere and South over the Lake District. Cumbria is a beautiful place and those views down over the lakes certainly helped remind me that all things that are worth having never come easy. A brief lunch stop on Fairfield itself and the chance to pull on my trusty old Buffalo shirt was a welcome break – a quick sandwich though was all I had time for and then we were back on our way before our legs stiffened up. I also realised that trying to lose weight quickly was all well and good but that I needed to make sure I was fueling my body as well. Again my lack of preparation with regards to food made what was always going to be a difficult day even tougher.

The descent was horrid. I mean it was actually so awful that falling over the edge might have been preferable to the short agonising steps down the ancient stone path back into Ambleside. My knees were swollen and my feet ached from the unyielding confines of my new boots and it just seemed to go on for ever. When I finally reached the tarmac road back to the hotel at Waterhead I was shattered and ready for bed. I was so stiff I could barely walk to the minibus back to the hotel.

Arriving at the hotel I was taken aback by the kind words I got from the other members of the expedition, many of whom were nursing aches and pains of their own. Many of them took the time to speak to me and give positive feedback on what had basically been a torturous day in the mountains for me.

Throughout the drive home I started to plan the next six months. I had a lot of work to do but the fact I hadn’t crashed and burnt in the Lake District gave me the confidence that this expedition was actually doable. The reality check had been worth it and although success, for me, on Everest was still nothing more than a vague possibility it was no longer the rose tinted pipedream it had been 48 hours earlier.

So what next? How do I get the amount of time I need on the hill? Not only that but how do I achieve that in the time-frame without breaking my already notoriously fragile body? In those and so many other unanswered questions, as the Bard would tell us, lies the rub.

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