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Eddie Perez

Struggle is the Intimate Part of the Journey

By 29029 Everesting

April 7^th, 2023

One day after school, I was browsing YouTube and stumbled across a video about 29029.

I’ve seen so many cool things on the internet - cool events, cool places, cool experiences, but usually, like most cool things, it would just be a passing thought.

Wouldn’t that be a cool place to go? That event would be pretty cool. Then, I’d quickly forget about it and move on with my life.

29029 was different.

I went to my parents: “Hey, would you guys pay to register me for this event where I’d climb a mountain a bunch of times?”

“Absolutely not,” came the quick reply from my mom.

For whatever reason - a reason I still can’t pinpoint - I knew I needed to go to 29029. It’s all I could think about for the next few months.

As a high school student, I didn’t have the money to just sign myself up, yet I kept coming back to thinking about what it would be like to climb at 29029.

The only way I was going to get to that mountain was if I raised the money to help get me there.

Maybe I’ll reach out to close friends and family with a GoFundMe page? Or should I shoot for a larger goal?

It felt a bit selfish to only raise enough money to get myself to the mountain, so I decided I’d raise money for a charity at the same time.

I went to my parents with my plan and they agreed.

There was only one problem: in the time it had taken me to hatch a plan, 29029 had sold out.

I felt dejected, but put my name on the waiting list, hoping a spot would open up.

One day, during economics class in third period, I got a text.

“Hey, it’s Matt from 29029. We just had a spot at Snowbasin #1 open up. You have 24 hours to respond if you want to claim it.”

I was in!

Now all that was left to do was plan the fundraising.

In 2011, a close family friend, McKendree, was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Memphis is home to St. Jude, a children’s research hospital, which is where McKendree was sent to receive treatment.

While there, she met a boy named Luis. He was from Honduras, having moved to Memphis to receive treatment for osteosarcoma. They were inseparable and used the light of their relationship to help fellow patients also undergoing treatment.

Their constant humor and lightheartedness were infectious, touching patients and non-patients alike.

I was only eleven when Luis passed away, and although our encounters had always been brief, his ever-positive attitude had left a mark on me.

Luis always wore a pair of vibrant red shoes, indicative of his bold and vibrant personality, so when a charity was founded in his honor after his passing, they decided to name it Operation Red Shoes.

Operation Red Shoes exists to provide financial assistance to the families of St. Jude patients, making it easier for them to seek the treatment they need. It has already touched so many families, but donations had fallen off during the pandemic.

With my connection to the story of Operation Red Shoes, it was a no-brainer: I was going to use my journey to 29029 to fundraise for them.

I set a goal to raise $10,000.

I assumed I wouldn’t reach my goal, which is why I set it high.

Shoot for the moon, land among the stars.

If I set the goal for $3000, I’ll only reach $1000. If I set the goal at $10,000, I should be able to raise at least $3000.

That was my thought process.

I created an Instagram account and announced the start of my fundraising in January.

Putting it out there publicly was a nerve-wracking step. People fundraise for St. Jude all the time, why would mine be so special? I worried about what some of my classmates would say. Would they think I was doing this selfishly?

It didn’t matter - it was done, and out there in view of the public.

Within a few hours, I’d raised $1,500!

Oh, this is going to be easy.

At least that’s what I thought.

Around the end of May, donations had dried up. After the initial burst, I had plateaued at around $3,000 in donations.

I was going to be gone to camp for the month of July, and the event was in August, so If I wanted to hit my goal, I had to go all in for the month of June.

That’s when the idea hit me.

I’m shaving my head.

I ran a contest for who would be the one to shave my head - every $10 was an entry.

It blew up!

Mia and Isa, two little girls from Honduras who were beneficiaries of Operation Red Shoes did the honors.

After that moment - after having my head shaved - I realized I was all in on this goal. Nothing was going to stop me now!

Around then, I think my parents realized this wasn’t a fleeting moment for me. They realized I was all in too, and decided that their donation to me would be covering the registration cost.

That meant 100% of my fundraising dollars would now go to Operation Red Shoes!

With my fundraising goal surpassed, all that was left was to climb.

As the countdown at the start line of 29029 Snowbasin ticked over to 6:00 am - as the air horn signaled the start - I was hyped. Seriously, it felt like we all should have had war paint on our faces or something.

Which is why it seemed so anticlimactic at first. All that hype, all the build-up, all the training… just to start walking?

I felt like I needed to capitalize on the energy I was feeling, so I moved toward the front and set a fast pace.

It wasn’t until the third ascent that I realized pacing would be more important than I thought. I was already starting to hit a wall!

Thankfully, I linked up with a group of three; Jake, Misty, and Jonathan; and joined them for a few ascents. Chatting with them, and having others to share the climb with, made it easier to keep pushing, even if my body was already screaming for a break.

After my fifth, I stopped for lunch and took an impromptu nap in the basement of the day lodge.

I awoke to my dad shaking me, nearly panicked, telling me I had to get up and continue climbing.

I slammed an energy drink that brought me back to life as I started back up the mountain.

As I made my way up the mountain a sixth time, the skies started darkening overhead.

Storm clouds.

I hit the final stretch of that climb - a long, meandering fire road - when the skies unleashed. Rain and hail pelted the ground around me. I saw some people sheltering under trees, but I brought my mind back to the mantra I had set for this climb: the struggle is the intimate part of the journey.

This is the struggle. This is the good stuff. This is what I need.

I put my head down and kept walking.

My 8th and 9th ascents came under the cover of night and were interrupted, again, by a vicious storm and a gondola closure.

I started to get nervous about time. With a questionable weather forecast the next day, and the unknown about the gondola potentially having to stop for lightning, I realized I wouldn’t be able to turn in for the night.

I had no choice but to keep climbing.

So that’s what I did.

Around 4 am, I finished my 10th ascent, but not with ease. My groin was killing me, and I was feeling the effects of the relentless effort.

Like a guardian angel, Coach Julie appeared, leading a group hike that I was able to join for my 11th ascent up Snowbasin.

She got me up that mountain.

I could not have done that ascent on my own. I needed somebody else - I needed that motivation, distraction, and shared sense of community to get up, and Coach Julie provided that.

Ascent number 13 was where the magic happened. I was back, and I flew up that mountain. I felt on top of the world as I walked that Red Carpet with my family, and the 29029 community there cheering for me.

I put on that Red Hat, and for about a minute, stood there numbly.

Then it all came pouring out. I broke down, emotional from the past 30 hours on the slopes. I was sobbing, and I had no idea why.

A few weeks later, as I reflected more deeply on what it meant to pull on that Red Hat, I realized why I had broken down.

I had sacrificed my body and mind to accomplish my goal, but more importantly, I’d honored those that I was raising funds for.

All the kids at St. Jude are climbing their own Everest. Every. Single. Day.

But they don’t get to choose. They just have to.

I was lucky enough to have the choice to climb to Everest, and I’m so grateful that I did it in service of more than just myself.

After all the fundraising efforts, and all the additional donations I received from 29029 participants I met on the hill, I raised over $17,000 for Operation Red Shoes.

To do all that good in service of others while pushing myself to new limits is a high I’ll be chasing for my entire life. I can’t wait for the next mountain!