One Life One Chance Page 15

  I bent into my harness, leant on my trekking poles and hauled up the incline, panting and sweating with the effort. It was a short distance but in my physical state it took all of my strength to keep going. Finally I could see the tents of base camp ahead of me, and inside I cheered with relief. I hauled until the trail flattened out in front of some tents and I let the sled come to a complete stop. We had done it! A solid descent from high camp to base camp in a non-stop fourteen-hour death march. My eyes teared up as we gave each other high fives and hugs, with the wear and tear of the expedition showing through on our faces. We unloaded our sleds like crippled old people and set up our tents. The plane was due to arrive early the next morning and we were going to be the first team out.

  I can’t remember falling asleep that afternoon; I was sitting upright in my tent and woke up many hours later with my legs and back so sore I could barely sit upright. My body had finally given in and I had slept like the dead. It was twilight outside and the camp was quiet so it must have been late in the evening. I unzipped the tent to stare out at the incredible sight of the mountains one more time, knowing that in a few hours a little red plane would be coming to take me back to the real world. Living in the harshness of an environment shrouded in such incredible beauty is a humbling experience. It has made me even more grateful for having the opportunity and ability to be out there doing what I love to do. I pulled out a hand-held mirror from my bag and studied my dry cracked lips and skin, my dishevelled appearance and my tired blue eyes. I smiled into the mirror and stared into the eyes of the guy looking back at me, trying to understand the man I was becoming. Unable to figure it out just yet I whispered to him, ‘Well done mate.’

  CHAPTER 8

  THE CHICKEN-STICK EFFECT

  …

  I regularly get asked how I managed to afford all of the expeditions I have been on in such a short space of time. When I think about it I have been very fortunate, and when I trace my good fortune it goes all the way back to one thing, a chicken stick.

  I was training at Tiger Muay Thai again after finishing in the mines and getting ready for my first summit, Aconcagua, and was in a mindset focused on my goals and preparing for the first of the seven summits. While I was at Tiger there were people from all over the world training for their own reasons. Whether it was for weight loss, preparing for a fight or cleansing their bodies of addiction; it was a great place to mingle with people of all ages, from all classes of life and from every corner of the globe.

  One morning I noticed an older guy training in one of the BodyFit sessions who was giving it his absolute all. He looked to be in his fifties, was heavily overweight for his height, and his face was red with effort and pouring sweat from the humidity. No matter how hard the session became he hung in with the young guys until I was certain he was going to keel over and die right there on the mat. He had a friend with him who looked to be in his mid-thirties and was also giving it his absolute all. At the end of the session I went over to say hello and shook their hands. The young guy was Michael and the older guy, who took my hand and looked me straight in the eye sizing me up immediately, was John.

  John was fifty years old, born and raised in Sydney with a Lebanese background, and I liked him from day one. He had a great presence, a big smile and was on a mission to lose weight and change his life. During the previous year his wife had successfully fought off breast cancer while suffering from Addison’s disease and the stress on him during that time was easy to see. He had packed on the weight and had made a last-minute decision to come to Thailand in order to try and halt the heart attack he was destined for. Flying to a martial arts training camp in Asia to save his own life and help get his family back on track – I admired his courage and determination.

  John and Michael didn’t have any idea of how to go about their training or what to eat to lose weight while in the camp, so after meeting them briefly I said I’d drop by their hotel pool later that day to give them some advice. I went home, showered and then hopped on my scooter to go and buy barbecue chicken from my favourite street seller, five minutes away. Every dollar I had saved while mining in Australia was put aside for the expeditions so I was on a shoestring budget while in Thailand, which meant eating local street food every day. I had been going to the same Thai guy for weeks and his chicken was amazing. I ordered my usual snack of two chicken sticks then thought I’d get one each for John and Michael. For the grand total of 80 baht ($3) I rode away with a whole chicken skewered on four sticks in my left hand.

  I arrived at the hotel where the boys were staying and found them sitting on the edge of the pool. I sat down and handed over a chicken stick each. ‘Welcome to Thailand lads, have a chicken stick.’ John said, ‘Thanks very much mate,’ and offered to give me the money. I protested, ‘Don’t worry, it’s my treat.’ We ate together as new friends and then chatted about training, nutrition and how to get the best result out of their time in Thailand. John had plenty of funny stories about his life in Sydney while running cafes and small businesses. Michael seemed to be the new, up-and-coming guy, learning as much as he could from the man who had been there and done it all. John and I became good friends after that first chat together, spending every breakfast, most lunches and many dinners talking and solving all the problems of the world. John would recount to me years later the moment I handed him the chicken stick and described it as a selfless act of kindness from a guy who didn’t want anything in return. That gesture secured our friendship from that day on.

  Over the following month John trained like a man possessed and lost 12 kilograms of body fat, changing his entire physique and gaining back a healthy glow in his skin. His energy was limitless and he tackled every session like a twenty-year-old, often leaving the younger guys in his dust. For a special New Year’s Eve session a few guys and I planned a massive test of endurance and invited everyone to come and join in. The session contained hundreds of reps of varied exercises, a 6-kilometre tyre drag and a run to the top of big Buddha mountain and back, 12 kilometres away. Many who started didn’t finish the session yet John came stumbling in 5 hours and 45 minutes later, looking like a broken man but beaming a big smile.

  I was due to depart for Argentina the week following New Year and after a farewell dinner with my close group of training buddies I was ready to go. While shaking hands with John he said, ‘Thanks for all the help,’ and ‘When you get back to Sydney after your climb give me a call and we will go for a beer.’

  After successfully climbing Aconcagua, I touched down back in Sydney and made my way to a friend’s house in Newtown. I remembered John and wanted to track him down, say hi and see if he had kept up his training. Finding the scrap of paper with John’s number written on it, I gave him a call. He picked up immediately and in a formal voice said, ‘John speaking.’ I told him who it was and his tone changed as he asked how and where I was. I told him I was in Sydney staying at a friend’s place and he replied, ‘Great, be ready for lunch tomorrow and I will pick you up.’

  I slept under my friend’s staircase that night on a comfy mattress and the following day I was waiting out the front of the house for the midday pickup. A Porsche sedan rolled up with tinted windows, and as the window came down I saw John looking like a million dollars, sitting in the front seat with his son Luke driving.

  He was wearing designer slacks and a very impressive shirt pressed to a pristine quality. His shoes were shining, as was his buckle and the massive watch hanging from his wrist. His hair was freshly cut and styled to the latest trend and the best thing was he had kept the weight off. Luke was similarly flawless in his appearance, and as I was the guy wearing a T-shirt and jeans I felt like the odd man out. I climbed into the back onto the soft leather seats and settled in. I began to think there was more to John than what he had let on in Phuket, and as we drove into the city I recounted to them my climb of Aconcagua.

  Luke dropped John and I off in Darling Harbour, a waterfront area of Sydney’s central business district, an
d I was feeling the shock of civilisation. I walked uncomfortably through the crowds of tourists and corporates in suits when only a few days earlier I had been standing on a remote mountain summit in Argentina. John’s phone was constantly ringing and it was glued to his ear as we walked along. We arrived at a restaurant called Meat and Wine Co and as he reached for the front door a server opened it and said, ‘Hi John.’ We entered and made our way upstairs through a beautifully decorated restaurant to a private room on the third floor, where a table was set and waiting for us. The servers were buzzing around John and settling him into his chair and started to bring out snacks and drinks before I had even seen a menu. John finished a call and then turned to me with a cheeky grin; he must have picked up on my confusion at the situation and he said to me, ‘Just relax mate, I know the owner.’ I began to think that John might have been playing down his ‘few small cafes back home’ when we used to talk in Thailand.

  I had lost a lot of weight on the expedition and John was taking it upon himself to fatten me back up again. I had two plates of food in front of me minutes after sitting down and the flow of food didn’t stop, no matter how much I protested. John had arranged a lunch meeting with a guy named Grant who he was about to do a deal with for another ‘small restaurant’, and when he finally arrived I had already gorged myself on the first course.

  Grant was another businessman of impeccable appearance and arrived moments before one of John’s associates, ‘Chris the Greek’. I swear that is exactly how he was introduced, and I started thinking I was caught up in an Australian version of The Sopranos. Everyone was seated and the wine started to flow. I didn’t drink, as I was in training mode and wanted to stay focused, so I became the adventure-story relief during the meeting. Whenever negotiations hit a stale point John would ask me a question and I’d tell a story about the expedition, the army, Thailand and anything that was of interest. Once I was done the meeting would resume and I’d settle into another plate of food.

  The afternoon carried on with tense moments of discussion, bouts of laughter and plenty of food and drink. It was close to sunset by the time negotiations were slowly starting to finish up. I couldn’t follow who had the upper hand in the deal but John looked happy as more wine was ordered and I told another story about our time together in Thailand. We moved from the dining table to the lounge bar upstairs and settled into a comfy antique sofa, where desserts were waiting for us to snack on. I was having a great time watching the boys in action. In my mind I always thought business was conducted in sterile offices with stacks of white paper and striped ties; here I was witnessing how deals were really done, with long lunches and fine wine.

  I had eaten myself into a food coma by the time the lunch had stretched to nine hours and I was yearning for bed. The meeting was concluded and it was handshakes and back slapping all round as we said our goodbyes and made our way downstairs. I had given John a $1 chicken stick and he gave me nine hours of fine dining at one of the best restaurants in Sydney in return. We exited the front door and made our way to the street where Luke was waiting with the car. I was dropped off back in Newtown with John saying he would call me the following day. The rest of the house was quiet as I took a quick shower and slipped into my little bed under the stairs.

  The following day John called, telling me I wasn’t going to sleep under the stairs anymore and that I was going to come and live with him. I didn’t even have to think about it before saying yes, and made my way to the suburb of Parramatta to meet up. I arrived at his building and met his other son Nathan, and John’s brother George, who all worked in the family businesses. George was a little older than John and Nathan was my age. They were both impeccably dressed, minds sharp as a razor and very friendly. They were eager to hear about training with John in Thailand and about climbing Aconcagua, so once again I was the storyteller at the coffee shop, with John egging me on and encouraging me to talk. As we departed Nathan pulled me aside to say a heartfelt thankyou for helping his dad lose weight in Thailand. I told him it was my absolute pleasure but that his dad did all the work and deserved all the credit.

  John and I arrived at his home shortly before dark. His house was amazing, a huge brick place nestled in a really nice suburb with front gardens looking as if every leaf and blade of grass was in its perfect place. I entered through the large wooden front door to a reception from John’s wife Robyn. She had a big smile as she hugged me and made me feel right at home. To say the bedroom I was given was an upgrade from the bed under the stairs is a massive understatement – I had my own huge double bed, cupboards, drawers, full-length mirror and enough room to do a training session. On my bed Robyn had bought and laid out a toothbrush, toothpaste, shower gel, deodorant and a towel; I’m not sure if she was trying to tell me something but all I felt was grateful and slightly overwhelmed by the generosity. Robyn was Australian, which explained why Luke and Nathan had more European features than Lebanese and she had only recently beaten breast cancer, which John told me took a huge toll on the entire family. She was now in remission and doing well and her energy seemed endless when I first became a full-time guest of the family.

  Living in the house with John and Robyn were their two stunningly beautiful daughters, Carly and Taryn. They both had long-term boyfriends and were soon to be married and moving out with their husbands. It was Lebanese tradition that the girls live at home until they were married. My daily routine from that point forward involved training with John and the boys every morning and then joining him at work. I sat in on all of his meetings, drove with him into the city for lunches and never had to put my hand in my pocket once in the entire time I was with him.

  Every morning we trained at a gym called Revolution X, not far from John’s house. It was a CrossFit and strength and conditioning warehouse owned and operated by a guy named Rob. I had never done CrossFit before but I took to the training like a duck to water. It was exactly the style of training I loved – hard sessions utilising kettlebells, weightlifting, gymnastics and running in killer circuits, racing the clock and each other. It was a great atmosphere and through John and the boys I met tons of new people, who thought what I was trying to achieve was incredible, offering me their support any way they could. I started training twice a day at Rev X and after two months Rob offered me an assistant coaching position. Following on from that and with some external pressure from John I’m sure, Rob let me move in and live upstairs of the gym. It was a perfect deal for me, training all day for the next expedition, learning to coach and drinking as many free protein shakes as I could stomach.

  My training routine involved a lot of functional movement; over the years I have tried many different styles of working out but no other training program has gotten me as fit or as strong as I was with CrossFit. It must be performed safely with the right technique and weight for your ability, but it works. I blended in pack marches to keep up my pack fitness and also some hypoxic training at the local pool. At the pool I’d drop to the bottom holding onto a 20-kilogram deadball, then while holding my breath and carrying the ball I would try and run as many sprints as I could. I repeat this over and over until what started as one lap holding my breath, turned into three, four and five. This hypoxic technique is utilised to try and force the body to create more red blood cells, the very same cells I needed while in the mountains to carry oxygen around my body in the super thin air at altitude.

  By the time my second expedition, to Denali, came around, I was in incredible shape and champing at the bit to get to Alaska. The entire RevX family had wished me luck and off I went to do my best. After successfully summiting I returned to the gym, was given my job back again and my same bed upstairs. I was so fortunate and grateful to be able to get straight back into training and pick up where I left off. I was officially broke by this stage with no idea of how to fundraise big amounts of money besides going back to underground mining, but when I caught up with John he had a plan ready and waiting for execution.

  John had put together
a full fundraising event for me to try and raise the money I needed to keep going with the seven summits. I would learn that he had plenty of experience doing this and used to hold charity events and fundraising galas for the Penrith football club, where Luke and Nathan had played rugby league. He also owned his own function centre called the Waterview inside the beautiful Sydney Olympic Park that could hold up to 700 people. What I have come to realise more and more in business and in life is that it’s all about your network, which can make impossible tasks very possible. John had built a network over forty years in business that fanned out across Sydney, Australia and the world. He had called in a favour for 400 bottles of wine from Queensland, free printing of flyers, posters and tickets in Sydney, organised guest speakers, a band, DJ, film crew and five-star dining to bind the night together. His business partner Chris the Greek took me around his community for weeks to meet people, tell stories and sell tickets for the night. John’s other friend Jamie gave me a $2000 cheque to buy a car so that I could get around while in Sydney. The generosity was endless and overwhelming.

  The night came together bigger than we could have imagined and almost 400 people dressed in their best turned up for the night. I had plenty of my Newtown friends there and my parents flew down from North Queensland for the occasion. I had to deliver my first ever public speaking performance and I was nervous standing on stage looking out across the sea of people all staring back at me. A week before the event a lovely client from the gym named Cathy told me her brother Andrew was a public speaking coach and after hearing what I was trying to do offered to coach me for free. His sessions were invaluable; it’s one thing to tell a few stories around a meeting table or over lunch but a different thing all together when delivering a speech live. He helped me pick my best stories, mould them and then present them in an interesting and professional way. I practised my speech over and over again leading up to the big night and when the moment finally came I didn’t miss a beat. Once I started speaking the nerves fell away, I relaxed and the words flowed out perfectly.