When I got back from the gym this evening, a loaf of freshly-baked cinnamon bread from my daughter was awaiting me. I toasted it. It was delicious. I texted her: BEST CINNAMON TOAST EVER.
Moving along....
As you know, there is buried deep within me an intense desire to return to Zermatt this summer to attempt one last peak in the Alps. Eight years ago was my last trip to Switzerland. I wanted to raise $25,000 for cancer research at the hospital in Chapel Hill where Becky had been treated for four years. If Becky passed away from endometrial cancer, it was not for any lack of excellent medical care. She got the best at UNC. Of the four peaks I attempted that summer, the Lord allowed me to summit three. People congratulated me for conquering those peaks. I certainly never "conquered" them. If I have learned a deep understanding of anything through my climbing, it's this: God alone deserves all the credit for any of our so-called "accomplishments" in life. He is always there, wherever you need him. I could have accomplished nothing apart from him. If you asked me whether I relied on the Lord during my climbs, the answer would be yes. In the words of John Wesley when he was asked by some cynic whether God was his crutch, "No, my God is my backbone."
I was profoundly changed by my time in the mountains. I was happier than ever before, and more scared than I ever want to be again. My mountain guide was such a blessing. It's his expertise that literally keeps novices like me alive up there. The faith and trust he placed in me made all the difference. He knew when to push me, and he knew when to say no, we're not going any further. Last summer I intended to return to Switzerland and climb the Allalinhorn, but it was not to be. I thought I could do it. My guide felt otherwise. I'm proud to say that I didn't argue with him.
I can attest that peak bagging in the Alps is one of the unique events in anyone's life. Everyone revels in the excitement and shares in the journey. If I've truly reached the end of climbing 4,000-meter peaks, maybe I've got a 3,000er left in me. That peak, I believe, is the Riffelhorn. It's a difficult climb. Can a 73-year-old manage it? At times like this, I often think of Kipling's "If."
If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same ....
Dreams are powerful things. They are among those intangibles that have inspired men and women to change the world. I've always been taught, "Dream big, Dave. Make sure it is physically possible, and as long as the key ingredients to achieving it are vision and hard work, then go for it." And so tonight at the gym I resolved I would go for it. I'm finding my biggest limitation is lack of upper body strength. Through the sport of running, I've become generally fit, but running is leg-focused while mountaineering is full-body or upper-body focused. Climbing technique alone won't help at all if the upper body and grip strength aren't there as well. For this reason, starting today I will consciously work toward upper body strength during my workouts as never before.
Climbing the Riffelhorn will require not only pushing with your legs but pulling with your arms. My goal is to be strong and flexible.
Like so many things in life, climbing isn't focused on the destination. It's so much more than that. Most of our life lessons happen during the journey. Climbing teaches you so many things: discipline and focus, how to be committed to something, how to overcome obstacles, and how to move forward despite adversity. I tell people all the time that the hardest part of running a marathon isn't the race per se but rather the months leading up to the race. Was completing my first marathon one of the most amazing experiences of my life? You bet it was. But the finish line was merely the icing on the cake. When you keep putting one foot in front of the other for 26.2 miles and then cross the finish line, your sense of satisfaction at finishing the race will be thanks to all that you've invested in preparing for that event and everything you went through to get there.
I could go on and on, but I think you get a taste of what I'm feeling right now. This website is all about understanding and tapping into your full God-given potential. It's also about understanding the power of failure and what it can teach us. Goals that are not frightening are not worth having. I appreciate the opportunity God gave me to climb the Alps in 2016. I look forward to another great year in 2025 as I train for another peak. In the bleakness and coldness of a Virginia winter, I've got my eyes set on the prize. I admit, I have no clue as to whether or not it will happen. But he does, and that's all that matters.