It’s taken me a few days to try and process this.
On the morning of January 25, 2016, I did what I normally do to start my day. I logged in and checked my email and then clicked over to CNN.com to check the latest news stories. There, buried in the left hand column, was a link to a story about Henry Worsley, a extreme explorer who set out to do what Shackleton failed to do — namely to cross the Antarctic continent. Worsley sought to do it alone and had traveled for 70 days, facing blizzards and ice and hardships; and this was during the Antarctic summer. On the 70th day, he had to issue a mayday. He was then airlifted out, apparently by a group of marathoners endeavoring to complete a marathon on all seven continents in seven days (the 7 / 7 / 7 challenge which I briefly looked at doing before the $39,000 pricetag left me gobsmacked). Worsley was suffering from extreme exhaustion and dehydration. Organ failure led to his passing. He was 55.
It was a bold, crazy, foolish endeavor but it was his lifelong goal. He apparently was always fascinated with tales of Shackleton, the expedition that helps inspire the notion of a failed mission but successful rescue. Worsley died therefore doing what he loved and that’s not nothing.
Still, the selfishness of me reared its head as I thought, “I’m going to Antarctica. I’m doing this bold, crazy, foolish thing. What am I doing?!” I’m telling myself I’m off on an adventure, doing something I love, and that I’m looking forward to it. But Worsley is a reminder that nature is not to be taken lightly. I worry I’ve been a little too nonchalant about the race and the distances on the last continent. Without a trace of irony, today I bought a goose down parka to take with me for the time I’m on board the converted Russian research vessel, the Ioffe.
Doubts occasionally creep in. Nagging voices. Fear. But that’s okay, too. Because a little fear is a reminder that life is precious and not to be wasted. So this odyssey, my seventh continent, and a marathon run in a land truly at the ends of the earth, is not something I’m taking for granted.
I’m incredibly lucky, all the more so due to the love and support I’ve gotten from friends and family. Come what may, I hope everyone knows how much I appreciate them.
And so as the days count down, I’d like to take a moment to say thank you.
Words often fail me despite my best efforts, particularly when it comes to emotional or “real” moments in life. I tend to make a joke, or self-deprecate, to defuse and demur. But this is one of those times when I really do need to tell you all this.
So, ya know, thanks.
It may not be eloquent or poetic but it is sincere.