By the time this goes to print, I should be on a game reserve in Kenya with two friends, enjoying some time off before embarking on the hardest hike of my life.

The plan is to check out some wildlife, hoist a few Kenyan cold ones, then catch a bus to Tanzania and climb Kilimanjaro, elevation 19,340 feet.

The trek takes five days, and the path winds through a forest and several climate zones. It is a popular tourist destination, but as Kaiser travel doctor Vernon Ansdell told me, it poses a "moderately high risk."

This is what men without children and mortgages do. We come up with crazy ideas that look risky on paper, then jet off to see if we can make it happen. There is something about trying things outside the typical human's comfort zone that always appealed to the male spirit.

At our paper, this idea is nothing new. Writer Michael Tsai and sports copy editor Mark Eidson have both climbed Kilimanjaro. The two have also hiked high mountains in Russia and Argentina.

Eidson teased me with stories of hikers succumbing to altitude sickness, leaving them unable to reach the "roof of Africa" and gaze at the glacier.

Deputy city editor Dave Dondoneau has requested that I bequeath my miniature Filipino taxi to him, since he doesn't think I'll make it back alive.

I've been preparing for this hike since early February, when I decided to abandon my previous lifestyle of late nights lived with reckless abandon. I ditched plans to go back to Europe by myself and elected to test my physical limits.

I started training for the Honolulu Marathon, improved my diet, made sure I got eight hours of sleep during the work week, and ditched several bad habits that lingered from my adolescence.

I saw a doctor who specializes in travel medicine and received five shots in rapid succession, leaving me a little wobbly. I am also taking prescription pills for malaria and altitude sickness, the latter of which has me visiting the smallest room in my apartment on a very regular basis.

My friends and family are split on my most recent adventure.

My parents, both veteran globetrotters from their youth, love the idea.

My mother, who has been to Africa, expressed jealousy that I get to go.

My grandfather cackles, shakes his head and tells me he'll pray for me.

My buddy Evan, who has watched as I've executed outlandish plans for more than a dozen years, thinks I've finally lost it.

My girlfriend keeps reminding me "not to get eaten by an animal."

I don't have a death wish, but I love pushing myself, and I want to see as much of this world as I can before my time is up.

And I'm keeping my taxi.

Reach Peter Boylan at pboylan@honoluluadvertiser.com.