Hell yes!

With a pause in my step and a big sigh, I said it out loud. Why am I doing this?

I’ve asked myself this before. It’s usually when I’m feeling tired, exasperated or even doubt. I suddenly realize I’m working pretty hard at something and I’m wondering if the anticipated rewards are worth it!

So, yes, I said it out loud when I was ascending Pikes Peak. Probably Colorado’s most well-known mountain. America’s Mountain. One of the state’s 58 peaks above 14,000 feet. I started just before sunrise. At this vantage, if you didn’t know what you were looking at, you may not give America’s Peak a second glance. But it’s a beautiful sight to see the glow of the summit in the distance. It just looks so far away. Because it is!

I was on mile 8 of the 13.5 mile hike, all incline on what I knew was a 7,800 feet gain to the summit, when my legs started to tire. No one was making me do this. I’m not out here seeking gold like those who sought to tackle this mountain in the mid 1800’s.  I’m not even in a modern day competition. And at this point, I know that even though the way forward is shorter than the way back, it’s much more difficult due to the on-going incline at high altitude.

Why am I doing this?! Sure, there’s always some humor in the question, but there’s a serious side too. It’s a reminder to check in with my motives.

I read a book about 8 years ago by Greg McKeown, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less. At the time, it was a valuable read for me based on a professional situation. What has remained with me from the book is this: If it isn’t a “hell, yes”, then it’s a “hell no.” I play that in my head when I’ve been asked to do something or when considering how I’ll allot my time both professionally and personally. It helps me to identify and commit to what I’m passionate about and to spend my time doing what is most important for me, as often as possible.

Of course, we don’t always have the luxury to say “no” to the things we don’t really want to do (especially kids and young adults living in your parents’ home!). But, as humans with free will, it can be healthy to question our motivators for doing something. Is it ego? Is it weakness? Is it an excessive desire to please others? And are we taking on more than we should, more than we can handle, because we feel like we can’t say no? It’s healthy to define and express our boundaries.

I know that word makes some people cringe. It sounds like you’ve come straight from a therapy session when you use it. I never thought consciously about setting boundaries until recent years. It was then that I understood if I’m going to be true to myself, which is one thing I always said was important to me, there are occasions where I need to draw a few lines. The experience of grief has actually helped me to get comfortable with this. How? I had suddenly arrived in a new, unfamiliar, uncomfortable place. I didn’t have a map. I had to navigate properly for survival, so to speak.  

Boundaries are also essential when hiking. For example, there are important rules that might be considered boundaries, like Leave No Trace. And there are literal boundaries created by trees, canyons, cliffs, fences and the established trail that has been put in place for a reason. There are also resources that actually create boundaries that are critical to safety – your trail map, compass, tracking device, and weather forecast.

On Pike’s Peak about a mile after I asked, why am I doing this, I passed a memorial at the side of the trail. I paused just long enough to read the inscription. It made me wonder about her story and what had happened. Later, after returning home, I researched to learn more.

Irnestine B. Roberts successfully ascended Pike’s Peak 13 times. She was 86 years old on her 13^th. In 1957, she made a 14^th attempt a few days before her 88^th birthday. She perished on her decent after some unfortunate events and succumbing to exposure after what appeared to be a fall. It is reported that she may have been by-passing switchbacks during a storm in her haste to get to shelter and slid 30 yards down a slope. By all accounts, Irnestine was a very experienced hiker. I can only find one story written about her. My guess is that in many ways she considered herself an ordinary woman, like me, doing something she loved. I wonder if she ever laughed to herself and asked, why am I doing this?

I suppose if the answer to the question is that we are doing it out of love for something or someone, then it’s a pretty good thing to be doing, regardless of the hard work or challenge.

There are always boundaries to help us mitigate risk. Knowing ourselves and our needs. Identifying what is acceptable to us. Mapping it out or drawing the proverbial line so it is clear to others. And as long as we are still saying “Hell Yes” then why not keep on climbing.

*Greg McKeown, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less

*The Story of Irnestine B. Roberts by Matt Carpenter