Everest Base Camp Trek: One Step at a Time

I scoffed at the idea of doing the Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek. My first thought was, “This is beyond me — I’m not fit enough”.

The idea was first floated by our friends as we sat in their backyard enjoying a BBQ. My husband was keen right away, while I quietly hoped this was just ‘spur of the moment’ talk and nothing would come of it. But the more we caught up with them, the more concrete the plan became.

Ultimately, like with getting my scuba diving certification, I ended up going because of my fear of missing out and not wanting to be a buzzkill.

If you’re looking for tips on when to go or what to pack, you’re in the wrong place sorry!

It was 2 months out from the scheduled trek, and I had done nothing to prepare — I was burying my head in the sand, hoping it wouldn’t actually happen.

Once I accepted that it was happening, I knew I had to improve my fitness. I wasn’t particularly fit; even a flight of stairs left me puffing. With something like this, I knew I’d need help — so I got a personal trainer. It was money well spent.

In hindsight, I wish I’d started training earlier. I naively thought six weeks would be enough, but I didn’t factor in disruptions like getting sick and injuring my ankle. With limited time, my training had to also be ramped up quickly.

In the end, I had about five weeks of training — six PT sessions in total, plus 3–4 hours a week of cardio on my own (mostly treadmill walking with a weighted shoulder sandbag).

In April 2019 I made it to EBC. While five or six weeks is just about doable for someone starting from scratch like me, I wouldn’t recommend it. Start early.

I wasn’t someone who was naturally motivated to exercise, and going from zero to intense PT meant I had to change my relationship with fitness. On top of that, I was also nervous about being in a gym where my lack of fitness would be exposed. I’d often struggle to sleep the night before and felt nauseous before each session.

I knew something had to change.

In my search for motivation, I came across a life altering book – Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins.  His story — going through unimaginable mental and physical challenges to become a Navy SEAL, Army Ranger, and an ultra-endurance athlete — made the EBC trek feel less far-fetched.

The book didn’t just help me survive PT and make it to EBC. It’s influenced other areas of my life too — including getting my scuba certification.

That said, my mindset and relationship with exercise didn’t flip overnight. Even in my final PT session before the trek, I still had trouble sleeping and felt queasy beforehand. But it was less intense, and the feelings were more manageable. I even began to look forward to training, despite the anxiety.

After the trek, I returned to PT — partly because I had prepaid for 10 sessions, but also because something had shifted. Nowadays, I don’t train with a PT anymore, but if I were to start again, I’m sure I’d still feel nervous the night before. It just wouldn’t feel nearly as overwhelming as it did back in 2019.

Physical fitness is crucial — but so is mental resilience. And having the right mindset helps on hard days. During the trek I leaned heavily on Goggins’ mindset. I didn’t turn into a superhuman, but I was more resilient than I’ve ever been.

Goggins taught me that our bodies can handle far more than our minds think they can. I relied on that idea all the way to EBC.

I’d sprained my ankle a couple of weeks before the trek — thankfully it healed well. Still, I had to strap it daily, and the pain would often worsen after each stop. On one of the days, the pain got so bad I started limping. Luckily, it was better the next day, and I kept going — cautiously.

The old me would’ve used that ankle as an excuse to stop. The new me didn’t let it be a barrier. I thought, If Goggins can run an ultramarathon on broken legs, I can hike to EBC on a recovering ankle.

On steep paths, I’d talk to myself like Goggins might. Once, I got into such a trance that I powered ahead of everyone — even my partner, who usually leads, had to call out for me to wait.

Back in 2012, my partner and I did the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. We were in a group of three couples. Two couples were super fit and always way ahead. I was always at the back. While the trek itself was amazing, feeling constantly behind wasn’t.

So I worried EBC would be the same.

Luckily, our group of five — our two friends, a solo hiker, and us — was wonderfully chilled. And loved taking tea breaks. My friend also seemed happy to stay in the back with me while our partners hiked ahead. We gave ourselves a nickname: the Alpine Snails — something I still cherish.

Yes, EBC was harder than Machu Picchu, but what helped was having a relaxed group that didn’t care about “powering on.” I was slower, but I never felt like a burden.

If you’re like me and worry whether you’d be a burden on the group, I’d suggest finding one that fits your pace. Communicate early with your tour operator about your fitness level, and if you can, connect with the group ahead of time to set expectations. Be upfront about your concerns, fitness level and what you’re hoping the hike will be. If those concerns are met with support, you’re in the right group.

You’ll need a baseline of fitness and stamina, of course. But with the right group and regular tea stops, it’s absolutely doable.

Day 9 was our final stretch: we hiked from Lobuche to Gorak Shep, then continued to EBC and back to Gorak Shep. The first stretch, from Lobuche to Gorak Shep, was challenging due to elevation. But the path to EBC was a different kind of challenge: short, yes, but filled with uneven terrain and large boulders — some you had to jump across or scramble over.

My confidence on rocky terrain has always been low, my ankle didn’t help, and neither did the altitude. I winced internally with each step, terrified of slipping. At one point, I almost froze.

Nothing bad happened. I didn’t fall. But my mind went to the worst place possible. Instead of soaking in the experience, all I wanted was to get out of there, but I also didn’t want to move.

I’m not sharing this to put anyone off. I’m sharing it in case someone else feels the same — so they know they’re not alone. In those moments, try to reach inside and find that confidence, however hard that might be. That confidence will get you through, and it can make all the difference. In my experience, it’s when I have the least of it that I tend to slip.

Would I do EBC again? Yes. But next time, I’d pack a bucket of confidence.

The morning after reaching EBC, we were scheduled to hike up Kala Patthar. We set off at 4 a.m. in the dark. The trail was narrow, steep, and slippery. My fear of falling kicked in hard. Even with trekking poles, my steps were wobbly.

And then I remembered: I’d have to come back down the same way.

With strong winds and feeling the coldest I’ve felt on the entire trip, my nerves got the best of me. I knew my limits and so I made the call to turn around while the rest of the group continued. Even heading down when I did was nerve-wracking.

Part of me felt sad to miss it; but the other part of me was relieved.

As it turns out, not long after, my partner and our friends turned back too. They realised that even at their pace, they might not make it in time for our helicopter pickup.

Only the solo hiker in our group continued and reached the summit. Although the solo hiker had good pace, even she only made it back just in time for the helicopter. In fact, because there were five of us, the helicopter had to make two trips. Our friends and I took the first flight, while my partner waited for the solo hiker and flew back with her on the second round.

I don’t regret turning back. I hear the view is stunning, but I can live with the fact that I never made it up Kala Patthar.

I do wish I’d been better informed about Kala Patthar as for me, it was the hardest part of the whole trip.

Would I try Kala Patthar again? Honestly, probably not. But I’m a different person now — so never say never.

If you get the chance to take a helicopter back from Gorak Shep to Lukla, do it. Yes, you’ll miss the return hike – but you’ll gain an entirely different perspective. Seeing Everest and its surrounds from above was unforgettable. From above, you’ll be able to take in the grandeur of it all, and you’ll get to appreciate your monumental accomplishment from a different viewpoint.

It’s not about one being “better” than the other. I wish I could’ve experienced both. But if you’re debating it, I’d say: it’s worth it.

One thing to note: to reach the helicopter, you’ll still need to scramble across rocks. So if you thought the rocky path to EBC was the last challenge — think again!

After our helicopter ride, the plan was to stay overnight in Lukla before flying to Kathmandu. But we were desperate for a hot shower and warm bed — something Lukla couldn’t offer. Miraculously (and with a little push), we got ourselves on the last flight to Kathmandu that same day.

This meant that all within the one day, we descended from Gorak Shep at 5,164 metres to Lukla at 2,860 metres, and then down to Kathmandu at 1,400 metres.

We all knew the importance of acclimatising on the way up – ascend slowly, have rest days, and watch for signs of altitude sickness. But none of us had heard of reverse altitude sickness — also called high-altitude deacclimatisation syndrome (HADAS). We discovered it the hard way by skipping the overnight stay in Lukla.

When we landed in Kathmandu we were all fine. But by nighttime we felt lethargic, had headaches, and my partner had GI issues – all symptoms of reverse altitude sickness. Thankfully, the symptoms were mild and cleared up after a day’s rest.

If you are thinking of taking a helicopter down, I’d recommended staying in Lukla overnight to give your body time to reacclimatise!

I was lucky to be dragged into doing the EBC trek — something I likely wouldn’t have attempted on my own — and I’m grateful for it.

The journey for me was challenging at times, but it was well worth it. And although I didn’t make it up to Kala Patthar, I could live with that. Reaching EBC was enough for me.

There are plenty of blogs out there with differing takes on how hard or easy the trek is. Ultimately, it’s different for everyone. It depends on you.

I hope this post gave a glimpse of what the journey might be for someone like me, whose anxiety often tags along.

And if EBC feels too far off right now, I’d just say this: don’t write it off just yet.