When I was in 7th grade, we were required to run the mile. My stamina was horrible. I was always the last one to finish and I would end up in tears – from both exhaustion and embarrassment that I was Dead. Freaking. Last. 

So to say that I’m shocked that I have hiked Koko Head (known as the stairs of doom) probably over 40 times at this point in my life is an understatement. 

Hiking this wondrous mountain has been an upwards journey in itself. 

The first time I hiked the mountain in adulthood was with my sister. We were showered in sweat and reeked of the scent of giving up. 

We also made the mistake of hiking during the day where the sun baked us like Manapuas.

Side by side we would go up a couple of steps, sigh in exhaustion and reluctantly trudge on. 

After what felt like hours (probably 45 min), we were a couple steps away from reaching the top. Four steps. Three steps. Two steps. One step. WE DID IT! We cheered, high fived and celebrated this win that drained the living life out of us. 

When we conquered the mountain, it was a feeling that I haven’t felt in a long time. I was grateful that my legs could even make it to the top. I had the urge to try again to see if I could simply do it again – when I asked my sister she laughed and said absolutely not. So I was forced to think about the question – do I go myself or do I just end the journey right here?

Over 40 times later and I can say how happy I am that I have made this mountain mine.

That I had the audacity to adventure solo and that I am able to name Koko Head my own special place. Where I can plug in my airpods and play Lizzy Mcalpine as I watch the mountains gather like an emerald school of fish. Where the sunrises can kiss my skin good morning and the Sunsets can hug my body goodnight. 

Where I can smell daybreak and watch the colors breakdance on the horizon

I smile every time I reach the top. I’m reminded of the 7th grader who could barely run a mile and would never believe that in the future, this body would defeat a mountain 40 times over. 

I’m happy to be next to the cactus spines. Happy to inhale the perfume of the haze.

I somehow fall in love with everyone who is also alone on this hike. I imagine all of them as my first love. We live in all of the houses that stare at us from so far down below. 

I fall in love with the leaves – the trees – the birds – the bees 

The sun, the moon, the branches and the grass. And I thank my body for being able to breathe and bask in a moment that I’ll never have again as I prepare to march back down the stairs back to reality. 

I am reminded of the 7th grade girl that used to sob and I tell her that 13 years later she could not only finish a mile but also climb Koko Head every other day she is back home.

There will be many more mountains to climb for years to come. 

Many Mountains to climb when her older self solo travels Asia for the next 3 months. 

And she will conquer Every. Single. One.