Here’s my dirty secret. I’d rather read a good book, write a good book, or watch a movie than go climb a mountain. Especially a mountain that’s so high there’s really not much oxygen at the top to go around. (Yes, there was a time in my teens when I indeed did climb mountains and could hang over 300 foot cliffs without breaking a sweat. But after several decades of sitting on my butt surrounded with books and movies and scones, well, I now break a considerable sweat and think twice about dangling over cliffs.)

But, here’s the thing. There’s something in me that’s always climbing mountains, symbolically speaking, of course. I find it impossible to do the ol’ 9 to 5 thing, go home, make dinner, watch TV, go to bed, and on weekends mow the lawn, plant my dahlias, plan my two-week vacation per year, and that’s it. Don’t get me wrong, that kind of life sounds pretty fine to me, but I just can’t seem to get the hang of it. I see a mountain and I climb it, whether it’s writing the next book, founding a nonprofit charity, or penciling in “July, 2009: Climb Mt. Kilimanjaro” into my calendar.

Yes, gulp, you heard me right. I plan to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro (19,340 feet) in my dotage. But alas, penciling it in and doing it are two different things. So I thought blogging about it would help. (Blogging and climbing are the same thing, aren’t they?) I need support. I need people to cheer me on as I physically train and mentally worry. So, you are officially my cheer squad. Don’t let me down. I’ll keep you apprised of my progress.

Current progress: I’m writing this right now instead of going to the gym. I will stop writing now. I will go to the gym. I will. Yes. Right now. I will I will.