From A to Z

My Story, My Reason...


I looked at the old brown desk for what seemed to be the 100th time. I had to make sure I had everything. Insanity...check, sunscreen...check, rain gear...check, Xanax...check. It seemed everything was accounted for, so I sat down to use the mirror for what would be the last time over the next 7 days. Staring at myself turned out to be no ordinary exercise. I searched, I looked, I cried, I shook. I realized something was missing from my packing list. My reason. My reason for hiking a mountain with "kil a man" as part of its name.

It would have been easy to stare back and tell myself I was doing it for my Father. Deceased since I was 13, I have spent a lot of time trying to devote different things to his memory. It would have been so easy to do it for him too. He always told me I could do anything, be anything...as long as I didn't become a cheerleader. Even he had his limits. But this time, doing something like this for him seemed unfair. Unfair to me.

I recently read a person suggest that this isn't something you do "just to check a box". Did climbing this mountain demand a reason outside of simply checking a box? I respect a person who at least creates boxes to check. Maybe I didn't need a reason after all.

I hiked this mountain with a 70 year old woman whose reflection told her to spread her husband's ashes on the 4th anniversary of his death. She made it.

I hiked this mountain with a man who previously failed to summit. He made it.

I hiked this mountain with a woman whose primary goal in life was to push herself and create new boundaries by stepping outside of old ones. She made it.



Then there was this one woman I hiked with. She lived most of her life from a place of fear. Fear of failure, fear of dying, fear of living, fear of loss, fear of life without chocolate. She always questioned her toughness. It was a constant question mark and at times her reflection looked like the Riddler from Batman. For her, hiking this mountain meant finally proving she was made of sturdy stuff. She hiked every day with a purpose. She found each new day meant more confidence. She enjoyed the natural beauty around her and marveled at the fact that she was not only doing this, but doing it well. Was she ever fearful? Yes, but her toughness never faltered. Not once.

Did she make it? Yes, I made it.