Climb ev'ry mountain

Oddly, for someone who is completely terrified of heights, I am obsessed by mountaineering. I have an online repertoire which goes Facebook > personal email > here > work email > MountEverest.net. I know vast amounts of ridiculous knowledge about Everest and if allowed to could bore your bollocks off with rabbiting on about the Khumbu icefall, the Lhotse face, the Hillary steps, the South Col, the yellow band and theories about whether Mallory could have free climbed the Second Step or not. And I swear I typed all that without looking it up. I know Everest is variously called Sagarmatha and Chomolungma by the peoples surrounding it and that it's significantly easier to climb than K2. Indeed, my mountain geekiness extends to knowing the names of a lot of the other twelve 8000+ metre mountains (Annapurna, Gasherbrun I&II, Kangchenjunga, Nuptse, Lhotse, Ama Dablam, Makalu, Cho Oyu, Nanga Parbat, Pumori). Ok, I'll stop now.

Why on earth am I fascinated by the fourteen 8000+ metre mountains? I will never actually be able to visit even the base of any of them because even the trek to Everest base camp is too frightening for someone who had screaming ab-dabs on Hadrian's Wall. No, really, I did. I'm fascinated by them because I'm frightened of them. Anyone who has the guts to take on an 8000+ is a brave soul, especially as the statistics aren't great. Over 200 people have died on Everest and the mortality rate is dreadfully high on K2 and Annapurna. But people still do it just, for a fleeting five minutes, to be the highest person stood on earth. To be able to see the curvature of the earth. To know that the coming back down is more fatal than the climbing up. It's fascinating.

I've climbed some mini-mountains this year. I've learnt to deal with being a single person; I've started going out and having a life; I've even ended up being better friends with my ex than I've been for many years. I'm not ready to be in a relationship yet and I don't really want a boyfriend.