Week 3 and 4 - The Type Boots only worn in space

Week 3

This week, my project officially entered the stage where every answer created three new questions.

The basic idea was to examine whether medications with possible effects on bone, muscle, balance, or fatigue were associated with physical inactivity, falls, or fractures in people with MS. That sounds manageable until you realize that medications do not politely affect one body system at a time.

Corticosteroids may affect bone remodeling and muscle tissue. Antiepileptics can influence balance or bone health. Antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications may affect alertness, fatigue, or fall risk. Proton-pump inhibitors seem harmless until you spend several hours reading papers about fractures.

I began grouping these medications into a burden score and connecting that score with physical activity, sedentary time, recent falls, and fracture history.

My laptop slowly disappeared beneath journal articles, notes, spreadsheets, and enough open tabs to qualify as a cry for help.

At Noble Park, the exercise sessions continued reminding me why the project mattered. Participants were not neatly divided into “active” and “inactive.” Some exercised despite considerable disability, while others faced fatigue or symptoms that made consistency difficult. A questionnaire could summarize activity, but it could not capture every reason behind it.

At the same time, I was preparing to leave for Mont Blanc.

This meant my evenings involved comparing mountaineering boots, checking baggage restrictions, figuring out whether crampons would get me tackled by airport security, and trying to squeeze an unreasonable amount of equipment into a 45-liter carry-on.

I found a pair of LOWA Vajolet boots for $320 after comparing them with $600 alternatives, which felt like responsible budgeting until I remembered that I was still purchasing extremely specialized shoes for "Voluntarily" walking into snow.

I spent part of the week wearing mountaineering boots around my room to test the heel fit. Nothing makes you feel more normal than walking around indoors in double boots while reading papers about osteoporosis.

By the end of the week, I had the beginnings of a manuscript, a workable research question, and most of my climbing equipment organized. I was about to exchange Melbourne winter for European summer, which, at altitude, would somehow involve considerably more snow.

Week 4

This week began with a flight to Geneva and ended with me living in a tent several thousand meters above Chamonix.

A natural progression.

This was the beginning of my pre-approved break from Monash, during which my climbing partner and I planned to attempt Mont Blanc without using the mountain huts. We carried our own food, tent, and equipment from the valley, which sounded adventurous while planning and considerably heavier once everything was on my back.

The first day involved approximately 1,000 meters of elevation gain. The second added roughly another 1,800. Eventually, we reached our camp around 3,400 meters, where the views were incredible and every basic task took longer than it should.

Putting on boots? Project.

Melting water? Project.

Standing up after sitting inside the tent? Surprisingly ambitious project.

I developed a mild headache after arriving and felt slightly weaker and dizzier than usual. It was not severe, but it made altitude physiology feel much less theoretical. Reduced oxygen availability, increased ventilation, hydration, recovery, and energy balance were no longer ideas from a lecture. They were now directly involved in determining whether I felt functional.

We spent a full day acclimatizing rather than immediately pushing higher. This required patience, which is not always my strongest athletic quality. I am generally much better at doing something difficult than sitting still because doing something difficult tomorrow would be smarter.

Our high-altitude grocery haul consisted of bread, eggs, electrolyte packets, and full-sugar Coke. The Coke was especially useful because it provided fluid, caffeine, and rapidly absorbed carbohydrates. More importantly, it tasted incredible after carrying everything uphill.

That APK nutrition science coming in handy.

The next stage involved crossing the glacier and moving to our final camp before the summit attempt. Looking at the route from below, I felt excited, nervous, and very aware of how far away Melbourne was.

I did not complete internship hours this week, but I thought about physiology constantly. My body had essentially become a n of 1 single-participant case study with terrible experimental controls.