Some might call it hungover hiking...

I agreed to partake in a morning hike after little sleep and much wine. I made the commitment to do it even as a huge part of me wanted to head down to the beach and soak up the last remaining seaside moments of the weekend.

Mosquitoes buzzed and hopped all over us at the trail header and the greenery swallowed us up. Scaling the mountain, zigzagging back and forth didn't seem to strenuous but it wasn't necessarily welcomed either.

The incline became more rigorous, the girls ahead slipping and sliding in their flip flops, I forged ahead until I saw the ropes. The straight up, nearly vertical trail with ropes on one side to sustain those pilgrimaging up to the temple atop the island. Shit, ropes? Well, it couldn't be that bad, it would however be a first.

"I can do this, I can" I thought to myself as a man passed by me with a baby on his back coming down the mountain. For the first round, the first 3 minutes I just kept breathing and focusing on my footsteps directly in front of me and below, not looking ahead. Coming around a bend at the top, I exhaled deeply and through my back down onto a flat rock for a moment of respite and water. The endorphins were kicking in and my heart began to thump in my head blurring my vision.

I started up the hill again as those with me scampered ahead. We hit another leg of rope-dom, fuck! THe wine began to swirl and the lack of food to absorb began to talk to me. What was I thinking? "Stop, stop and go back, you're going to be sick" is what I heard but I just let the sweat trickle off my brow onto my nose and took an audible breath, beckoning my heart to stop it's racing.



Again and again and again, after each round of reaching a crest another ropes course hill appeared. An hour of battling my body and my mind, I reached the top. I could barely catch my breath as it found a dry pocket in my throat and brought about enormous waves of nausea. I wasn't finished though, there was still more, the temple had yet to be found.

More rocks, less grip, more breathing, more focusing on the task at hand and oodles of arguing with myself as to when it was okay to give up.



I don't know how I managed to not turn back, I surely would have before. My face was shimmering and although my eyes went in and out of focus due to lack of oxygen, I felt so alive and so accomplished.


Reaching the top after knowingly knowing that I "couldn't do it" and wouldn' t have created a silence that just ate me up. One of my favorite quotes from Illusions is echoing in my brain now so I suppose it should be typed: "Argue for your limitations, and you can have them."