Climb the Mountain, Climb Within

Climbing mountains is escalated yoga practice. When we put ourselves outside of the comfort zone and endure self-induced suffering we have the ability to find out what we are made of. It seems that pain can be pushed through if the Spirit is willing, but too often we allow pain to diminish the will of our spirit instead of allowing our heart to lead us. I am not recommending that you actively go out there to make yourself suffer in barbaric ways, but implying that pain is a catalyst for growth. When we realize we can endure pain and continue anyway, life becomes so much easier. Instead of fearing what life holds we can run at it with arms wide open knowing that whatever comes we can get through it. Once you know this, anything you desire can be yours.

You see, everything comes at a price. Nothing worth gaining comes without some sacrifice. You want a child, endure the birth. You want millions, sacrifice the time with loved ones and get to work. You want a love relationship, be willing to forego all temptation. The world has lied to you… you cannot have it all, but you can have whatever you deem is worth sacrificing for. In the case of climbing, you want the view of the summit and the satisfied feeling of accomplishment when you get there, better be willing to endure some muscle pain, potential cramping, and some discomfort on the way up and down. Down works a whole different muscle group than the way up… just to balance things out. 😉

Each year, after we hike the Franconia Ridge in a day… (roughly 8 hours with a few breaks for snacks and lunch) I reflect on what it has taught me. This year it was this message of sacrifice and overcoming. Every year I do this hike I realize I am a different person on the journey. Stronger, happier, kinder to myself, and much more resilient. This year we had rain and cooler temperatures than what we’d prepared for for the first time on the summit and I realized that initially my mind said, “Fuck no!” and a little bit of panic started to set in. The visions of not being able to get safely up the next 2 peaks or down safely made me nervous. We weren’t prepared for an overnight adventure and had no choice but to finish what we’d started. I noticed it took me about 10 minutes to return back to the present and stop future tripping. It showed me how far I have come when it comes to reigning in the monkey mind… though I like to equate it to more of a wild stallion that requires some taming and directing. 

Also, our trail disappeared as we started nearing the bottom of the mountain and we had to grab onto tree roots and toe a dirt ledge to get across the trail at one point with quite a fall looming should the dirt or roots let go. We found out when we got to the road that we weren’t actually on any trail and later review of the tracking my fiance had turned on in his phone revealed that we had lost the trail about 1/2 way down and were just following our own. We ended up about 1/2 a mile or 3/4 miles away from the actual trail exit and had to walk back to the car, which neither of us minded since we were just grateful that God had led us out before it got dark and we weren’t lost in the woods overnight. It could have been much worse and I am forever grateful and in awe of the One that has saved me more times than I can count.

As I traversed up the mountain I began realizing that smaller steps were much more energy efficient. Large pushes up bigger rocks were draining, though they seemed to bring more progress in terms of elevation in a quicker time-frame. This was an illusion because these moves took more energy and wouldn’t be sustainable long term. I equate this to life in that sometimes people wait for the big opportunities when it is so much more effective to take small steps up the mountain toward your goals. Eventually you will reach the peak and have much more energy when you get there if you are steadfast. I realized that there were many obstacles I could just avoid if I were willing to detour a little and zig zag a bit on the path. Sometimes the path to our goals is much less difficult if we mindfully detour a bit on the journey forward. 

I also realized that joy is fuel. As I was stretching out my hamstrings and calves on the way up because they were cramping, I happened to do a forward fold and a beautiful dog (who belonged to another hiker) was sniffing my butt. We met eye to eye and I laughed and said, “Well hello there! Nice to meet you.” This moment provided me with laughter and a light heart. As I continued on I realized that my calves and hamstrings had loosened up and weren’t hurting quite so much. I cannot tell you 100% if it was the stretching or the laughter that the dog brought, but I tend to think it was the joy as I had stretched a few times before that and the pain was still there. After that I felt lighter in a strange way and continued onward and upward. My spirit had been lifted and I was graced with more energy for the journey forward.

As we neared the peak we met another couple who was doing the ridge trail for the first time and I remembered my first time. It felt like never-ending torture. I was not used to pushing my comfort zone at that point and was hating the discomfort. I must have cried like 3 or 4 times on the way up and maybe once on the way down. I saw my old self in the woman… wearing socks that were too low for her boots, no backpack on, scared of heights, and mustering through as best as she knew how. I offered her encouragement and an extra pair of socks I had in my bag because I could see her ankles were really red and irritated from her boots rubbing against them. She refused even though I told her they were new and insisted. On the way down I thought about them and wondered how they were faring, but knew I had offered what I could to make their path easier. This taught me about allowing my blessings. The woman was having her Achilles rubbed clear of skin and yet refused the aid I attempted to provide. It made me consider how I may block my own blessings out of pride. When have I been thirsty yet refused the offer of a drink out of “politeness” or pride?

The thing about this particular hike is it requires commitment, once you are up there aren’t a lot of options. No matter how much pain you feel or how tired you are, you need to keep going unless you are prepared to camp overnight in the woods. My fiance and I never prepare for that so it’s just a matter of pressing on to get up and over the 3 peaks and back down. As one of my favorite yoga teachers always says, “the only way out is through.” This quote becomes my mantra when doing this hike. Despite the muscle pain, foot pain, knee pain, and other generalized discomfort… I keep going. And when I reach the car, I know I made it through and am changed as a result of the journey. Stronger, more resilient, and more alive and prepared for life as a result of what I have conquered.