I rely heavily on hiking—not just as an escape, but as a source of instruction. When I am not on the trail, I am still using its map.
People often ask me how I manage the “monumental chore” of caregiving without losing my mind. The answer, for me, is written in the granite of the White Mountains. I draw constant parallels between the struggles I face at 4,000 feet and the struggles I face in my own living room.
The Wisdom of the Climb
On the trail, there is no room for “pitting.” If a storm rolls in while you’re above the treeline, the mountain doesn’t care if you’re tired. It doesn’t care if you feel like you’ve done enough. The physics of survival don’t negotiate with your mood.
You move because you must.
I’ve realized that caregiving has its own “Treeline Rule.” It’s that moment in a crisis where the adrenaline fades, the help goes home, and you are left exposed to the elements. In those moments, I stop looking for “hope” and start looking for “momentum.”
Survival is a Labor of Logistics
When I’m hiking, I’m focused on the next step, the next liter of water, the next marker. At home, it’s the next dose of medication, the next physical therapy appointment, the next meal.
Drawing these parallels helps me reframe my exhaustion. I’m not “failing” because I’m tired; I’m simply navigating a steep grade.
Hiking taught me that:
- The peak isn’t the point; the pacing is. If you burn out in the first mile, you never see the view.
- Weight is relative. You can carry a heavy pack if it’s balanced correctly.
- Grit is a muscle. The more you use it on the trail, the stronger it is when the shit hits the fan at home.
The View from the Triage
This week, my “trail” involved unexpected surgery for my daughter’s cat and a house full of animals on top of my husband’s care and the waitressing job all while not feeling great. It felt like a vertical climb in a washout. But I leaned into the granite. I focused on my boots. I did what I had to do because the “I Must” is a creed that doesn’t break.
If you are currently in the middle of a steep climb in your own life, remember: you don’t have to love the mountain to climb it. You just have to keep moving. Don’t look back, don’t look too far ahead, just focus on what needs to be done and do it.
