What's Your Everest?

Last night while hunkering down in the Blizzard of 2016, we watched Everest (incredible movie by the way although I should have done my research as I didn’t know the ending was so tragic- sniff). A line in the movie stuck with me. As they were leaving base camp 6, on their way to the summit, the leader said (roughly quoted) “do not look at the summit, keep your head down and take it one step at a time.” Really, that’s all they could do with such an overwhelming task in front of them- take it one step at a time.

What goal are you working toward right now that has you so overwhelmed that you’re stuck or afraid to get started? What’s your Everest?

I remember when I started my weight loss journey thinking it was going to take forever and a day to reach my goal. I did the math and the time it was going to take (at a realistic rate) wasn’t pretty. Especially given my track record and how many behavior changes I was going to have to make to get there.

Next month at the weight loss group I co-lead, we’ll be talking about goal setting. It’s important to have a specific goal, an X to Y by when. If we don’t know where we want to go and when we want to arrive, how are we supposed to develop a plan to get there? The elements of planning it took to summit Everest was amazing; the physical training, weather forecasting, medical care and supply preparation to name a few. To make it work, they had to have a start date, and end date and every detail planned in between. 

Is the goal you’re trying to reach so daunting that you don’t know where to begin? I was thinking about what is my Everest and have come to the conclusion that my current Everest is two-fold.

1) The getting started part.

2) The thinking I have to be super- duper- over-prepared to get started.

This fear of not getting things quite right has slowed me down on plenty of endeavors. I spent many years of my 30’s waiting to be ready. How ridiculous. So much time wasted. Before I started anything new, things had to be just right. Often times things were never quite right so I never started. Makes me furious when I think about it.

More times than not, my heart is ready WAY before my mind is willing to jump in. My heart says “yes, yes, yes, let’s do this” and my mind says “no fool, we’re not ready!” Over the past few years I’ve worked hard to live out my mantra of Faith Over Fear and for the most part, I’ve taken on challenges that I would not have thought possible.  I want to say “YES” before I’m ready. I want to trust that if God opens my heart to an idea, that he’ll give me the tools to make it happen. I want to remember that failing isn’t falling, it’s learning how to take a different approach the next time around.

To reach the top of Everest, the climbers had to make it through 6 base camp; the climb to each camp was different and challenging. To be ready to summit, the climbers had to do several mini excursions. They needed to get their bodies used to the terrain. It was literally two steps forward and two steps back. They would journey out for the day, get as far as they could and turn around before nightfall.

That was an a-ha moment for me. The learning is in the journey, not in the perfection of the journey. They fell, they got hurt, they regrouped, they tried again. Each time, they got a little farther. 

I love the idea of setting mini-goals (think of them as your base camps) that lead up to the main goal. They can tie into the main goal or simply get you one step closer to where you want to be. For a perfectionist personality like mine, prone to be so anxious that the fear of trying something new can be paralyzing, setting small manageable goals that tie into one larger stretch goal is the way to keep me motivated and moving forward.  

What’s your Everest? How do you plan on conquering it? 

Take a good look at the summit and then let it go. Keep your head down and move forward, one step at a time. You might be surprised that the next time you look up, you’ve reached your goal.

Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.  

Hugs and Friendship,

Tara