My hiking style, especially when I hike alone, is to move fast, then pause to catch my breath when the need arises. I like to monitor my heart rate, and I’ve noticed that when it reaches about 140, I am working hard. At 150, I usually choose to take a break, watch my heart rate, and head back up the trail once it reaches 120. This is not what the experts recommend; it’s just my way. Part of that is a desire for exercise, but I am aware that with this style of hiking, I will miss things on the trail—small insects and other animals, new-to-me wildflowers, tiny mushrooms.
The style of hiking on Kilimanjaro is “pole pole” (poh’-lay poh’-lay), or “slowly slowly.” I knew this going in, and I knew it would be difficult for me. I also knew that we were supposed to stay together as a group. I was worried that I would become frustrated with the pace, so I mentally prepared myself to just go with this particular flow.
What I didn’t count on was the steep incline of the terrain, even starting out. I knew that we would gain 4000 feet on the first day, over seven miles. I just didn’t have any concept of what a 4000 foot elevation gain would look like or feel like. The most elevation gain I can achieve in Alabama is about 2000 feet over fourteen miles or so. If I had done my usual pace of go fast, then take a break, it would have taken me much longer to cover those seven miles.
As it was, using pole pole pace, I didn’t break a sweat, and my heart rate stayed below 120. We took rare breaks for water, but because I was using my Camelback hydration system, sipping along the way, I didn’t even need those. I wasn’t tired except for my upper back because of the weight of my backpack. I was amazed.
As we climbed into ever higher altitudes, pole pole became even more important.
One day, about halfway in, our group decided to be silent for the first thirty minutes of our hike. I was directly behind our guide, and I began to pay attention to his gait. Pole pole for me looked like step, pause, step, pause, step, etc. The guide’s movements were slow and fluid, almost like a dance. He would pick up one foot, then slowly move it forward, then place weight on it, over and over again. I tried to mimic him, but it was difficult as I was essentially trying to balance on one foot for a longer period of time than usual. I eventually got the hang of it. I don’t know if there is any advantage of the guide’s pole pole over mine, but it was beautiful to watch, and fun to try. And it made me become more aware and alert to each step.
There is a lot that I could say about slowing down, taking one step at a time, but not much that hasn’t already been said by persons much wiser than I. However, I need to hear those lessons often. I do tend to rush through life without treasuring moments as they occur. Or look ahead to what the future may hold while ignoring what’s right in front of me. Or rushing to finish a goal, only to have to pause to rest and reassess for a moment because I got too caught up in the forward movement.
Large, complicated goals should be addressed step by step, looking at the trees along the way, and not obsessing about the forest or the end game. Our head guide even warned us not to think ahead to summit day because we would fill our brains with anxiety, and we would miss the beauty of each day as they presented themselves.
Pole pole.