It was the best day of my life. It was the day I stood at the base of a near-frozen lake, with the cold piercing through every nerve of my body.
It was still the best day of my life.
Having lived all my life in a 30-above temperature, the sudden shock of falling ice and heat was more than just a life-altering experience.
It was the day I felt proud of myself: I had made it without falling ill. You’d think it’s easy climbing a tiny hill of about 300 meters — so did I — but it was far from easy. Despite a pair of normal socks, a pair of woollen ones, another pair of thermal socks, and rubber boots, I could barely feel my feet. My woollen gloves and the rented rubber ones didn’t stop my hands from going numb.
And we had a half hour to climb uphill and come back down before we ran out of oxygen. It was a battle against time and nature’s most freakishly beautiful phenomenon.
I don’t exaggerate.
When ice shards sting into flesh that’s only accustomed to heat, you’ll know what you’re made of.
And I realised I am made of stern stuff. I don’t just survive, I enjoy. And that revelation means more to me than anything else.
And that’s why it was the best day of my life.
Wonder what the hell I’m talking about? Details and photos coming soon.