When your body tells you that it can’t go anymore, I’ve always listened. I’ve never dared to challenge its authority or attempt to overthrow its decree.
Until today.
Until I was staring up to hike a mountain in Hangzhou surrounded by the most beautiful tea fields your mind could possibly imagine.
Thousands of stone steps, jagged, rough and bulging up to the top. With each step, I said that I couldn’t take another. The incline was too much. I didn’t say the words, “I can’t” aloud, I simply panted and tried not to concentrate on how each stone caused a pain to shoot up my stomach and back.
But I climbed.
Until I felt that rush from my stomach, the gurgling and discomfort, make its way closer to my mouth. It wanted me to vomit. It wanted me to give up. It warned me that China would soon experience parts of me I’d rather not share with this new, exciting country.
I told the group that I needed to stop for a minute. The group of fit travelers – ones who have hiked in Thailand, ran marathons and traveled to mountains far higher than this “hill”.
But I didn’t vomit. Dry heaved – yes. But vomit – no.
I told myself that I was in freakin’ China. I told my body that I needed it to be the best version of itself possible.
And it listened.
Until four steep sections later and the feeling of nausea returned.
One of the travelers, Dana, with a backpack full of cures for any ailment, offered every item she could possible think of. Ginger candy drops. Bananas. More water. Back to ginger candy drops. Granola bars. More ginger candy drops.
Over and over again I said no, but every few feet she would turn around and offer again.
Finally, I had to make my answer a bit stronger.
“I fuckin’ love you Dana but if you offer me another damn ginger drop I’m going to puss you over this freakin’ cliff.”
Lucky for me, a bit of rage was just what I needed. (And a friend who knew I was mostly joking and wasn’t offended by my harshness.)
And at the top of the mountain covered with fields of tea, I told my body, “ya did good.”
Standing there, I realized what a gift it was to be on the other side of the world. In this body, in this place, and in this country.
Tomorrow might not be another mountain to climb, but it will surely take me to a view I have never seen before. A view of a place, and I’m guessing of myself. And isn’t that what the journey is truly all about?
See the houses down below? That’s the start of the hike…
Breathing in the bamboo
