In 2017, I climbed Mt. Fuji in sneakers. This was not a deliberate choice to increase the challenge-it was the result of excellent research and poor judgment about what that research actually meant.
Everything I’d read suggested that Mt. Fuji was the “cakewalk of mountain climbing.” Physically, the hardest portions amounted to scrambling over some big boulders. Most of the climb was no more taxing than hiking or climbing stairs. Japanese folks in their eighties made the journey for spiritual reasons. There were huts along the way for rest, food, and water. Based on this research, I concluded that sneakers would be perfectly adequate.
The ascent was everything I’d been promised. I experienced sights I’d never imagined-cities glowing through breaks in clouds from above, walking through paths of grey nothingness where the trail disappeared into cloud cover. Each station marker brought genuine pride and accomplishment. Even the pre-dawn summit queue with 5,000 other climbers, standing in freezing darkness for hours, felt manageable. We reached the summit before sunrise, and it remains one of the most beautiful moments I’ve experienced.
Then came the descent. That’s where I learned that all the research in the world about reaching goals doesn’t prepare you for what comes…
