I’m not someone who gives up easily. In fact, I’ve completed six Himalayan treks in just 13 months. That’s no small feat. But when it comes to maintaining a consistent fitness routine or running a 5k? Let’s just say, it’s like trying to climb a mountain with no trail.
Trekking feels different. There’s something about being out on a trail, surrounded by nature, that makes it all feel worth it. I can hike for hours, carrying my pack, pushing my limits. But when I come back home and the trail’s just a memory, staying consistent with workouts becomes a whole different challenge. It’s like trekking up a never-ending hill, and I’m not sure if the summit even exists.
I’ve tried. I really have. There are days when I tell myself, “Today’s the day I’m going to run that 5k.” I lace up my sneakers, step outside, and then… nothing. It feels like a chore. Running doesn’t give me the same thrill as trekking. It’s just me, pavement, and a clock ticking away. And missing a run? That’s when the guilt sets in. The anxiety creeps in, not because I missed a workout, but because it feels like I’ve lost control. I start questioning myself: “Why can’t I do this? What’s wrong with me?”
Then there’s Instagram. My feed has been perfectly curated for fitness, trekking, and those bodies. You know, the ones that seem to wake up with six-pack abs and a marathon already planned for the afternoon. I scroll, and suddenly, I feel like I’m not doing enough. Everyone is crushing their goals, posting their perfect routines, their perfect meals, their perfect lives. And there I am, missing a workout and feeling like I’m falling behind. It’s funny how something meant to inspire can sometimes make you feel like you’re losing.
But here’s the thing I’ve realized: there’s a thin line between dedication and obsession, and I’ve crossed it more times than I’d like to admit. It’s easy to get caught up in the pressure to always be doing something. To push yourself so hard that you forget why you started in the first place. Running becomes less about health and more about proving something to yourself—and maybe even to the world.
I’ve had moments when I wonder: Am I really doing this because I love it, or is it just to fill some void? I tell myself, “I’ll be better. I’ll push through.” But deep down, I know it’s not always about self-improvement. Sometimes, it’s about control. It’s about avoiding the discomfort of not being good enough.
Here’s where the real contrast hits: addiction doesn’t always look like substance abuse. Sometimes, it looks like scrolling endlessly through Instagram, compulsively checking off workout plans, or losing yourself in your next big goal. It’s the drive to do more, be more, feel more—without really understanding why you’re doing it.
And this brings me back to my treks. On the mountains, I’m at peace with my limits. I push myself, but I’m also in tune with what I can handle. I listen to my body. So why does it feel so different when I’m at home? Why does fitness become a battle instead of a joy?
I think it’s because we’re taught to chase outcomes. The summit. The finish line. The perfect body. But in my experience, the journey—the in-between moments—hold the real lessons. It’s not about how fast I run a 5k or how much I can lift. It’s about listening to myself, respecting my limits, and knowing when to rest. It’s about realizing that missing a workout isn’t the end of the world. It’s just part of the process.
So, here’s my challenge: how do I find balance? How do I keep pushing myself without letting it turn into an obsession? How do I scroll through Instagram without letting it make me feel like I’m not enough? I’ve learned that it’s all about awareness. Recognizing when things feel like they’re veering off course. It’s not about eliminating challenges or discomfort—it’s about facing them in a healthy way.
I’m still learning. Maybe I’ll never have a perfect 5k. Maybe I’ll always struggle with consistency. But what I do know is that I don’t need to be perfect to keep moving forward. I don’t need to run every single day or scroll endlessly through Instagram to prove something to anyone, especially myself.
The goal isn’t to climb every mountain or run every race. It’s to find joy in the journey, wherever that might take me. And sometimes, that journey involves resting and learning to be okay with where I am right now. Because even though it feels like a mountain, sometimes the biggest growth happens when we stop trying to conquer it and just let ourselves enjoy the climb.
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