It doesn’t get any better than this.

Whenever I start a hike, there’s a moment — about 30 minutes in – where I question what the hell I’m doing.  I’m breathing hard, my heart is pounding, my legs are protesting, my pack feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and I wonder if I’ll make it to the summit.  At that moment, as my body is trying to adjust to the demands I’m placing on it, I question whether the hike is worth it. Wouldn’t I rather be relaxing somewhere with my feet up?

Absolutely not.

I continue to put one foot in front of the other and something amazing happens. I fall into a groove, a zone, into a place where I’m challenged and content all at the same time. Sure there are moments, especially when the trail is especially steep or seems to be a constant slog, where I find myself out of breath, my heart pounding. Looking up the trail only confirms that it will continue to be steep for a while to come. But I don’t stop. I may slow my speed, take a moment to drink some water, but I keep moving, one foot in front of the other.  A few moments later, when I look up the trail again, I realize I’ve passed through the section that looked so challenging and I’m energized to continue.

On Labor Day weekend, I hiked Mt. Carrigain with a really good friend of mine. Summer 2014 marked Kelly’s first foray into hiking with two 4,000-foot summits in one day — Mt. Flume and Liberty. Mt. Carrigain would be her third and my 28th. The main route up Carrigain – the Signal Ridge Trail — is not terribly challenging in a technical way, no major rock scrambles, no significant water crossings, but it is long – five miles – and when the trail finally begins to really climb it feels like it will never end. I’ve heard it described as relentless and I’d have to agree.

At one point, a while after I had gone through my usual and predictable internal ‘why am I doing this?’ struggle, Kelly asked me how I could just keep going. She was going through her own struggle as she climbed.  I just keep moving, but more slowly, I told her.  I try not to stop because then it’s that much harder to start again. At least if I keep putting one foot in front of the other I feel like I’m making headway. The truth is we hikers  play a lot of mind games with ourselves to get through the tough spots.

Determination persevered and Kelly and I made it to the summit without a problem and we were rewarded with incredible and expansive views from Carrigain’s observation deck.  The weather was so nice that we spent an hour lounging on that deck. And we were there when a big group of hikers, two of whom were celebrating reaching their 48th 4,000 footer, reached the summit and uncorked the champagne.

Happy to be on Mt. Carrigain’s summit!

Through hiking, I’ve realized and recognized that anything worth doing requires hard work, determination and the ability to stay focused. And the internal struggle I experience on each and every hike is present whenever I’m doing something that puts me outside of my comfort zone, whether in my professional life or my personal one. It’s something I want my kids to realize and embrace, but like many kids their age they are not that interested in the hard-work part of things.  But that’s OK, neither was I at their ages. I’ll still continue to challenge them and challenge myself. And, I’ll remember it’s as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.