On Mountains

Sorry for the posting delay, but the other day I fell off of a mountain. I fell off of a mountain three times.

*cue Cell Block Tango, He had it comin'! He had it comin'!*

Okay, cut the song and dance number. I guess I should give an explanation.

So a bunch of outdoorsy types on Lantau Island got together a while back and decided to create an adventure race called the Lantau 50 or, more accurately, the Lantau 51 (since, ya' know, it's technically 51km). This is the first year it was run and, I have to say, it was pretty brutal. The race goes pretty much all the way around Lantau Island...the hard way. That means it goes over several mountains, one of which is called Sunset Peak, a mountain that stands almost one kilometer above sea level. That's the worst one, but there are several others that are quite massive as well.

Now, I don't mind going up mountains. In fact, I did really well on the flat and on the incline (I was even with the race leaders for a while). It's going down that gets me, especially when I'm running an unfamiliar course for the first time in Vibram Fivefingers that are definitely not meant for those rocky trails, trails so rocky that they literally tore a coin-sized hole in my shoes. Good thing I have a back-up pair. I was lucky that this was the worst gash I (think I) suffered, too, as there were jagged rocks surrounding those narrow downhill passes all over the place. It was in trying to dodge around these that I frequently ended up sliding over the edge and grabbing onto whatever brush I could to hang in there. Personal opinion? Not a safe trail, at least not in my shoes.

I ended up bowing out after Sunset Peak. I hadn't trained for this race, it wasn't my kind of race, and I definitely didn't have the right footwear for it. On top of that, going downhill really took a toll on my knees and ankles. If it weren't for the fact that barefoot running is good for strengthening those joints, I probably would have torn or twisted something. Ironically, the same pair of shoes that screwed me also saved me. I think I'll stick to road races from now on and use caution on mountain paths.

I don't regret the event, though. It was really exciting and the views from where I ended up were absolutely gorgeous. I was telling Carina that if anyone had a reason to come to Hong Kong, those mountains and the view they afforded should have been that reason. Of course, that same view also gave me vertigo (or maybe that was a combination of hunger, dehydration, and oxygen deprivation), but it was all beautiful...and fun...except for the falling downhill part.

Here's another mountain story to go out on, though: As a lot of you know, I have an anger problem that I've been trying to manage for a number of years. I've been getting better, but every day is still a struggle for me, especially when I'm surrounded by agents of frustration (re: almost all of Hong Kong). One of the greatest sources of my vexation is our flatmate, Beanpole, the bane of my existence.

Today I almost lost it and had at him. He makes a mess of things and acts like he doesn't share this flat with anyone and it makes me incredibly angry. I wanted to punch through his door and rip his head off after he commandeered the shower this morning and wasted all of the hot water...to shave (What the #@$% does he have to shave!?). I was really about to go at him, but then I checked myself. I thought, "This is someone's son, maybe even someone's friend. Now, I really hate this guy, but I have no personal quarrel with his relations. If I were to hurt him, how would his friends and family feel?"

I stepped away from the door and went back to my work. Just because you hate someone doesn't mean you have to destroy them, and just because you don't destroy someone doesn't mean you don't hate them. I hate him passionately, but I will continue to afford him what human dignity I can because, as disgusting as I find him, he is human. I am a mountain, I am solid, I will not shift from my composure. Let the anger boil beneath, but may it never overflow, for I have seen the destruction that can follow from such forces being left unchecked, and I know it to be terrible.

...The mountain is a metaphor.

Approximately yours,

Colin