To be honest, I’m not what you would consider a “sporty girl.” I’m could even be described as being “completely un-athletic.” You know the type- the one who gets winded walking up from 1st to 5th floor in the morning, or who already feels like “collapsing” during the warm-up laps in P.E. class. If “sporty” meant “expert at napping on the bed,” I’d definitely have a gold medal.
So when this hiking trip to Hong Kong came up, honestly? (Initially, I thought it would be cycling in Japan, well, that doesn’t make any difference. Maybe psychological effect idk…) But still, I never in a million years imagined I’d actually sign up for something like this. My idea of a “challenging outdoor activity” was walking to the garbage center down stairs. But here’s the thing, I saw the advertising poster for it, and I thought, this would look pretty good on my university application, right? Future me would probably thank present me for suffering through one weekend. Future me, by the way, is currently an idiot.
Not surprisingly, when I reached the middle of the way on Day 1, I felt totally exhausted. I could clearly feel the profound pain and aching in each part of my body. The thought of giving up popped into my mind right away, screaming, “Stop it! You are never gonna reach the top. Just pretend to be faint and wait for the helicopter to carry you back.” Well, I’ll admit, the mental image of me being dramatically airlifted off a mountain, waving weakly (but joyfully) to my concerned teammates like some kind of tragic heroine, was indeed very tempting. But then I realized two things: first, “what about my award, my money!!!” and second, I was not about to let this stupid hill win！
So, I did what any reasonable, non-sporty person would do. I stopped looking at the top. I stopped thinking about the distance. I just looked at the very next step in front of me. And then the step after that. I started talking to myself like I was a very small, stubborn puppy: “Come on, Sisi. Just one more step. You can do this. Now just one more.”
I focused on the weird little plants growing out of the rocks, the hikers that passed by and the increasingly stunning view of Hong Kong spreading out below me. My legs were shaking uncontrollably, my lungs were burning, but my brain was too busy negotiating for “just ten more steps” to let me quit.
And then, suddenly, there were no more steps. The trail opened up wide, the wind hit my face, and surprisingly, I was at the peak. The whole city spread out at my feet- the horizon, the harbour, the islands. There’s no complaint, no self- doubt, but a genuine sense of achievement settling in my chest quietly. I actually made it. And without a helicopter to show for it!
Standing there, catching my breath and probably looking like a complete mess, I realized something: having an “un-athletic” label doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t do hard things. It simply means you have to find your own way up. Sometimes growth doesn’t always feel glorious; it rather makes you feel regretful, forcing you to question your life choices every time. But the view from the top is really worth every miserable step.
(p.s. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it alone. There was my teacher, Mr. Graeme, who was always somewhere behind, waiting for me while everyone else had already zoomed far ahead. He never rushed me, never made me feel like a burden, just waited patiently with this look and joked, “Take your time, but also… die when you reach the top”, when I told him I was literally “dying”. I can’t deny that his ridiculous humour made the tough journey slightly more bearable. And plus my teammates, they’d shout encouragement from wherever they were, even when I was basically a tiny speck in the distance. Somehow, knowing they hadn’t forgotten about me, that they actually wanted me to make it, kept my legs moving. )
- Article / Sisi Sun
