Do you have anything(s) in your life that you just tell yourself you cannot do? Listening to my self-talk reveals my conscious and subconscious limits.
One item on the “cannot do” list is Koko Head Crater Peak. It’s a trail of 1,048 misshapen railway ties, aka steps, straight up Koko Crater.
The trail is easily visible from the road. I’ve looked at that mountain with its railway ties since 2010 when we moved to Oahu. Actually, I saw it while vacationing on Oahu several years before that.
My constant reaction was “Nope.” I didn’t have any desire to climb those 1,000 stairs. But when I really confronted myself about my “apathy,” I realized I avoided Koko Head because I feared failure. I didn’t think I could do it.
July 4, 1991, I climbed the traditional location of Mount Sinai. We began the climb at 3:00 AM and used the light of the moon as our guide. It was 3,700 stone steps. Many of the steps were easy to traverse, like a stairway. But as we climbed higher, the steps became more irregular and difficult.
I was physically fit and in the best shape of my life. Those stairs nearly did me in, brutalizing my flatlander muscles. I made it to the summit in time for sunrise, but I did it suffering. I climbed those stairs to find holy space at the summit and in my heart.
Koko Head Crater had nowhere near the same emotional or spiritual draw.
My friend and I climbed Kuliou’ou Ridge Trail last week. The last bit to the summit is about 200 stairs. I suffered. Why would I climb Koko Head’s 1,000 stairs when I know that I suffer?
The Catalyst
A few weeks ago, my friend Osiris posted that she wanted to celebrate her birthday with a sunrise hike to Koko Head. She said it was her very favorite hike on the island and she wanted to do it with friends.
Laughing, I said I was afraid of the stairs. At that point, I realized I didn’t believe I could do it. That is very different from not wanting to do something. I felt annoyed. After everything I’ve overcome in my life, I limited myself by some stairs?
I mentally committed, knowing that my trajectory would not be everyone else’s trajectory. Another friend, Vanessa, had expressed similar sentiments previously. We committed to go together…earlier than everyone so that when the others passed us, we’d be closer to the top.
Other friends expressed interest. Since it’s an hour drive from our area, we all decided to carpool. I literally felt an anxious despair in my stomach knowing that we didn’t have our extra window. But the plan to go together was efficient, practical, and solid.
The Execution
At 4:30 AM, I rolled out of bed. At 5:00AM, I was in the meetup parking lot and piled into the TanVan with six other women. At 6:00 AM we piled out of the van in Koko Head’s parking lot.
I stared at the mountain’s silhouette in the moonlight. Headlamps/flashlights roamed up and down the stairs. I couldn’t believe that it still looked so unforgiving in darkness.
The birthday girl arrived with other friends. Our headstart evaporated on every front. Everyone stood chatting in the parking lot.
Debbie, an observant friend, noted my expression while staring into the dark expanse, and said she’d start the climb with me. I asked Vanessa if she felt ready to go. That was the impetus for us all to head.
I felt drained in the first few steps. I’d built up such a resistance to the stairs in my mind, my body reacted to them instantly. We asked our friends to go ahead. Debbie stayed with us since she’d done the trail several times.
So began the climb. Stair after stair after stair, minute after minute after minute, break after break after break. As dawn flooded the sky, I knew I wouldn’t make sunrise at the summit, even though we were so close. Vanessa and Debbie chatted, both faring much better than me, but sticking relatively close.
As the steep incline turned vertical at the end, I found myself grabbing at the railway ties to keep upright. I had to stop constantly. I felt my leg muscles straining. Sometimes my muscles hurt the following day after a hike, but never in the act of it. I couldn’t even think about the descent with such exhausted muscles and knees.
So I kept looking toward the summit. I knew exactly what I had left to do. I knew the goal.
I could see Malia and Roxanne, then Nancy and Natalie at the landing. They’d already been at the summit to see the sunrise and then came back to the stairs’ end to cheer us on.
We’d passed some men taking a breather. They started again with us. I pulled to the side to let them pass and suggested they go by (like the hundreds of other people had) and one guy laughed and said, “No. You go first. I like your pace.”
That cracked me up. But it also lit a little more fire. So close to the top. I just wanted to finish. I had to finish. Push, push, climb, climb, stair, stair, stair, stair, stair. Malia cheered with her phone pointed at us. I asked Debbie to go first. I just didn’t really feel catwalk ready sweating profusely with my tomato red flushed cheeks.
I saw the stairs end. They really ended!
Surge of adrenaline pushed me to that point and then past it.
With gratitude, I stepped onto the dirt path to the summit. I actually laughed, which I hadn’t done in an hour, when I felt the wind. Heavenly.
We spent our time taking pictures at the various pillboxes and spots at Koko Head’s peak. Glorious views met every gaze. I spotted Molokai across the sea. I love staring out at sea from such a vantage point.
I knew I’d eventually have to go down those 1,000 stairs.
Again we started on the trek as a group. Vanessa rocked the downward trek. We “kept up” with the other girls for awhile, but then the distance grew significantly. Vanessa let me set our pace. She was so kind. We chatted.
I watched for stair numbers on the rails to find mental support.
When Vanessa and I hit the spot where the steps are suspended over a drop, I just didn’t think I’d have enough stability to do that very easily. I grabbed her hand inadvertently when I tipped on the first stair. I found such stability, I asked if I could just hold her hand through that portion. So we held hands like 5-year-old besties and charged down that section. I might still be on the mountain at that section with wobbly knees and hamstrings without her steady hand.
So obviously we finally made it down. As we neared the end of the stairs, we saw the TanVan girls waiting patiently for our descent. Yay! We’d all done it!
That limiting belief is shattered!! I could do it! Regardless of my physical and mental limitations, will and grit persevered. My takeaway is that we can overcome any limitations! Weak things can be strong!
We can shatter limiting beliefs! We can do hard things.
What will you prove to yourself you can do?
My next “cannot do it” to shatter may be to eat a squash.
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