College Essay on Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro 1st Post!!!!!!!

<p>Can I get some feedback on this Essay. It’s for the Common App. </p>

<pre><code>Climbing to my Potential
I feel the stinging cold of the mountain air through the two jackets I’m wearing. It’s an unfamiliar cold, but the same could be said for everything else on the mountain. I look around and see nothing but the irreverent summit above me, and the unforgiving depth below me. My eyes are fixated on the icy moraine covering the mountain, so as to not see the impending task that lay above me. Here I was, summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro.
My journey to the top of Kilimanjaro had begun long before my arrival in Tanzania. I was not in the best of physical shape, and never had seriously hiked or climbed before. Furthermore from a mental perspective the mere prospect of climbing the worlds tallest freestanding mountain seemed unthinkable. Everyone from my tennis coach to my own father advised against the undertaking. I pushed these objections aside, and endeavored towards my goal of getting in physical shape for the climb. 3 months and 20 pounds later I was at the foothills of Kilimanjaro, ready to cross the threshold that was the Machame basecamp.
Over the course of 8 days, I climbed through humid rainforest and barren tundra; scaling rock walls and navigating across volcanic craters. I hiked strenuous 14 hour days, my back aching from the 40 pounds of oxygen and supplies, and my body sore from muscle fatigue. Stumbling into the makeshift mountain camps, I experienced feelings of elation that were incomparable to anything I had experienced prior to my climb. Never before had a sleeping bag felt so comfortable, or instant oatmeal tasted so delicious. During meals I swapped stories and aspirations with my guides, learning of their hardships and of their struggles to make a living for their families. I was frustrated by my ability to sympathize but not empathize with them, and resented that I was doing for leisure what they were doing for simple subsistence. Nevertheless I was there with them, equalized by the great might of Kilimanjaro, where distinctions are shed, and it simply becomes man against nature.
The culmination of my experiences on Kilimanjaro was the 12 hour night climb to the summit on the 2nd to last day of the expedition. This was the real test with 55% of all people ultimately failing in their attempts to summit. I dwelled over this statistic as I carefully dressed for the -4 degree weather, resolving to myself that I would not become a static. The trail ahead of me is a 70 degree incline leading to a series of switchbacks made not by machine, but by the determined footsteps of climbers like me. I was ready to make my mark and set off towards the summit.
The resulting 12 hours was characterized by a combination of severe exhaustion and altitude sickness compounded with a sense awe. As I climbed I fought back thoughts of failure, instead turning them into motivation. I went Pole Pole (slowly in swahili) up the mountain, literally crawling the last 250 meters to the summit. Eventually I reached the hallowed sign welcoming me to the Uhuru peak. I stood proudly on the hat of Africa, and looked down at the sea of clouds below me, marveling at how far I’d come. I touched the snows of Kilimanjaro, thankful I’d have the opportunity to see them before their estimated 2025 disappearance.
At the summit, I marveled at the landscapes that surrounded me, but I couldn’t help but think about the reservations people back home had about me climbing. All our lives we are idealistically taught that we can do anything and everything we set our minds to. As we get older; however, this idealism wanes until ultimately it devolves into a sense of complacency. I’ve always held true to a personal maxim of mine that believed that satisfaction is only a step above failure. My recollections eventually turned into introspections, and I began to realize the impetus for many of my actions. The challenge of Kilimanjaro served as the venue for my discovery that I relished challenges, regardless of what they were or whether or not I was ready for them. Kilimanjaro taught me the importance of trumping personal adversity, and of finding out your potential. With this revelation, I had discovered, and I had conquered.
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<p>I think it’s a good first draft. It seems long, but I’d rather it be long and need tightening than be short. You have a LOT here. FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS. You have idea, opbjections, approach, climb, summit, aftermath. You probably need to boil that down to one or two of those.</p>

<p>I’d suggest you revise, eliminating as many adjectives as possible and making all your verbs active. For example:
I feel the stinging cold of the mountain air through the two jackets I’m wearing. It’s an unfamiliar cold, but the same could be said for everything else on the mountain. I look around and see nothing but the irreverent summit above me, and the unforgiving depth below me. My eyes are fixated on the icy moraine covering the mountain, so as to not see the impending task that lay above me. Here I was, summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro. </p>

<p>Could become:
The unfamiliar cold stings through my two jackets. Above me, the irreverent summit of Kilimanjaro looms over me like Mr. Welker in 6th grade PE the day I puked running the mile. I’m cold and my legs hurt. I focus on the icy moraine as our break ends and we groan into another leg of the climb. </p>

<p>I’m not Joyce, I admit but you see how much tighter and more interesting it is? Metaphor! Vivid Description! Someone once said to me that be verbs and adjectives are lazy, don’t depend on them.</p>

<p>…and check your verb tenses. They go from one to another in the same sentence from time to time.</p>

<p>check length. well over 500 word max</p>