It's hard for me not to see tragic irony in your reference to a massive task; it's possible the task of walking up Snowdon won't be that massive, but that the task of recovery will be.Does anyone have any advice as to how I can build up a bit more stamina and strength before the massive task I have set myself?
I was a committed amateur athlete before getting ill. Before getting ill I used to hammer myself regularly and enjoy it. I also used to recover quite quickly.
After I fell ill, I tried repeatedly to do what I loved again and resume training, but even at what could only be described as a modest pace I repeatedly failed to recover. After a brief spell of overdoing things, weeks or months of exacerbated symptoms and enforced bed rest would follow and eventually get me back to a state where even though my body was telling me still to rest, I was active enough and willing enough to have a go at training again.
Then, two or three days into the new training kick, my body would decide it had had enough; the flu-like symptoms that had been noticeable even at the start of the training would flare tremendously, and weeks or months of "rest" (read "torment") would inevitably follow. After the fourth or fifth episode of paying for my excesses like this, spread out over a period of more than 18 months, I couldn't help seeing a message in there that vigorous activity in my current state was probably not good for me.
I'm not deconditioned presently, and, in spite of feeling physically awful, I could and would go out and hammer myself right now if I weren't practically certain that there'd be serious and long-term repercussions. But I'm not an amnesiac and know by now what the deal is likely to be.
I still push the boundaries of my activity level, probing to see how ragged the edge can get whilst still remaining an edge (we all do, I suspect, just to get through an average day), but I've learned the hard way the meaning of hubris, and know that though paying a heavy price for overdoing things is not absolutely certain, what is absolutely certain is that I'll be the one paying for it.
It'll all be different when I get my NHS-funded shots of Rituximab, or something even better, in the year 2025. You won't see me for dust then and, who knows, maybe I'll have developed amnesia after all by then and I'll forget that this whole nightmare ever happened.
Climb Snowdon if you really feel up to it, but don't be afraid of pulling out, either now or part-way through the attempt.