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Carmen Fadel

Mom's Hiking Poles

By 29029 Everesting

June 30^th, 2023

A year and a half ago, I returned to work. For the decade prior, I was a full-time stay-at-home mom. I was living life for others.

Some say that like it’s a bad thing, but it’s not as somber as it sounds. I love my kids, and I love my career, and I’m proud of my accomplishments with parenting and my career, but I was starting to feel like I needed to find something that was truly just for me.

I have always wanted to do an endurance event, but I also don’t particularly enjoy running or cycling. It’s always been a bit of a paradox. Running a marathon was a no-go. When you take a running race or cycling race out of the realm of possibilities, there aren’t many options left.

When I found 29029, my gut told me to go for it. Instead of an immediate no, my response was an immediate yes.

29029 would be my chance to tackle a true endurance event.

I want to be a role model for my children - I have four of them, aged 10, 9, 7, and 3. I want them to see me work hard towards a goal that is a stretch - something truly challenging.

I was dedicated. I woke up at 5 am every single morning. My kids knew that it was my time. Sometimes they would come in and sit around near me while I trained. Other times, my husband would join me in our little home gym. But either way, everybody knew that I needed to put in the time if I was going to accomplish my goal at 29029.

Throughout the training, I felt incredibly confident in myself and my abilities. It wasn’t until the start date for 29029 Sun Valley neared closer that the nerves started to set in.

Imposter syndrome was real. Am I capable? What if something happens? What if I get injured on the mountain? My mind raced with doubts and worst-case scenarios, but I couldn’t let it show.

I wanted to maintain the appearance of self-confidence for somebody else in my life.

I know that earlier, I said I wanted to do something solely for me, but when I registered, I asked my Mom if she wanted to enter 29029 too.

She seized the moment and agreed almost instantly - we were going to climb the 29029 mountain together!

My mom had never done anything like this before, and I didn’t want to make her feel any more worried. As we traveled to Sun Valley, I was a bundle of nerves, but I sat in silence instead of letting them show.

“What’s wrong? You’re barely talking!” she asked me.

I didn’t tell her at the time, but I was in the midst of processing how I would be able to do what I needed to do for me to finish, while also making sure I helped her get to the finish. I was placing a lot of pressure on myself.

So many stories speak of that first ascent melting away nerves, but for me, it was the opposite.

Sure, for most of the ascent, it felt hard, but a normal as expected level of difficulty.

Then we hit The Wall.

It was only the first ascent, yet my achilles had started to burn on that climb. I hid my struggle, hoping to keep my mom moving forward. If I was struggling, surely she was too, and I thought no good would come from complaining.

Internally, however, I do remember wondering if it would be possible to do this 14 more times…

We hiked together throughout the day, checking off ascent after ascent. Each time we hit The Wall, I wondered if we’d be able to do it again, and sure enough, each time, we’d still make our way slowly and methodically up that ridiculously steep pitch.

By our 8th ascent, it was starting to get dark out. Many participants were starting to break for the night, but my mom was worried about being able to finish the next day if we stopped to sleep.

Under the cover of night, we started our 9th. To get up The Wall for a 9th time, I literally had to push my mom up - physically, from behind, I helped get her up to the aid station.

Still worried about being able to finish tomorrow, we took a short break around the fire at the base of the mountain, and started again.

It was time for our 10th ascent.

That’s when things got worse.

Something my mom had eaten wasn’t sitting well with her, and part way up, she became nauseous, doing everything she could to settle her stomach.

Around 4 am, we crested the mountain, by far our hardest ascent yet.

I knew my mom needed to stop, but I was at a loss for what to do myself. My mind was going in circles.

Do I stop with her? We said we were going to do it together. But if I wait for her to start again, I might not be able to finish…

We bumped into Colleen who offered up some words of wisdom: “We see this all the time, but eventually, people might have to split up and continue on without each other on the mountain. It’s hard now, but once you get moving, you’ll realize it takes the pressure off both of you.”

My mom laid down by the fire to warm up and get some rest, and I set out for my 11th climb.

I felt against the clock. I hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten real food in far too long, and was anxious about the impeding thunderstorms that could shut down the mountain.

Climbing alone, I cried nearly the entire time.

I was upset I had to leave my mom.

My aim was to finish that 11th ascent before my mom woke up - then I could meet her at the bottom and continue climbing with her.

She had other plans.

When I got to the bottom, my sister was there waiting.

“Mom left 30 minutes ago.”

My mom is strong-willed, and even though she needed to rest a lot longer, she was back on the mountain.

I set out on my 12th ascent to try to catch her.

Her mental strength propelled her, and although I thought I could catch her, she was already on the gondola down the mountain while I was still climbing.

She hit the bottom and started her 12th, even though she could barely move.

I continued chasing her, hoping to catch up and climb with her once more.

It was on that ascent - her 12th and my 13th - that I finally caught her at the base of The Wall. She was barely inching forward, but still moving.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Go on. You have to go get your Red Hat.”

It was her final lap - she was at her limit and wasn’t going to be able to do another, but I still had a hope of finishing.

My family was there, giving her a proper finish, but I couldn’t stick around and wait.

I was heartbroken to miss her finish, but I was up against the clock.

The Red Hat was still in my sights.

Because I was going so fast - rushing to finish before a possible thunderstorm shut down the mountain - my family decided to accompany me on the gondola ride down once I'd completed my 14th ascent. They’d grab all my gear and poles, bring me food and water, and make sure I had everything I needed.

There was no time to wait, and when we exited the gondola, one of my kids handed me my poles. I exchanged hugs with everyone and set on my way.

It was my final ascent.

As I neared the top, my boys met me just below the Red Carpet to cheer me on and walk the last hundred feet.

One of them chimed up, “Why do you have Grandma’s hiking poles?”

It was then that I realized they must have accidentally handed me her poles instead of mine.

She was with me the whole time on the last lap!

It was this beautiful moment that I thought couldn’t happen. Even though I had to leave my mom in order to finish, we were together in spirit that entire final lap. We had climbed the mountain together.

It felt surreal, and I broke down in a tearfully joyous hug with my mom after walking down that Red Carpet.

I’d done it! I’d made it to Everest!

When I reflect on my time on the mountain, two major impacts on my relationships stand out.

First, there’s the example I set for my children. There are so many empty promises and empty threats we make with our children. They were being raised to believe that they can do hard things if they set their mind to it, but I felt like them seeing me go through this process - seeing me train and dedicate so much time to climbing that mountain - made it real.

When I summited that mountain for a 15th time with them watching me, it made a real example that they could follow - something they could take forward into their life as they grow up.

Second, there’s the relationship that the experience of 29029 nurtured with my mom. We were always on good terms and loved each other, but with both of us being busy with our careers, we didn’t communicate or connect as often as we should.

Training through 29029 gave the perfect excuse for us to connect with such frequency. Before 29029 we’d often only talk about deep things. One of us would call the other when something was wrong, or when we needed to talk through some major life decision or challenge.

During 29029, we connected about more - we connected about light-hearted things like nutrition, or climbing stairs, or how the training was going.

It was nice to be able to talk about some things that weren’t as heavy.

I’m grateful for my time on the mountain. I’m grateful for the way it helped my most important relationships grow. I’m grateful for the way it helped me grow. It was a deeply transformative experience that I will never forget.