The Mountain You Actually Have to Climb

You can only climb your mountain.

Yes, that sounds like some guru bullshit that I promised we would stay away from. Hold on though, this isn’t an own goal; news of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.

This is just a nicely bundled way of saying you should stop looking at other people’s mountains. Judging or estimating the size of someone else’s mountain is about as useful as a cock flavoured lollypop. Their obstacles, their challenges and their achievements mean nothing to you. They may offer some fleeting motivation as the achievement video plays on your social accompanied by a bad piano version of the Rocky theme. That’s all though.

The hardest thing you’ve ever gone through is still the hardest thing you’ve ever gone through. It matters not that someone else appeared to have it subjectively harder. The most pain you’ve ever been in is still the most pain you’ve ever been in. That’s the lens by which you should view what’s ahead, and behind, you.

Us humans, and us rotund gents, have a horrible habit of comparing our difficulties to others. We then decide we haven’t had it hard at all and we need to be more thankful for what we have. Which is all well and good, but it rarely stops there; it continues like a self-flagellating semi-truck. We are taught from a young age that someone else always has it worse.

It doesn’t matter how hard it is to others; it matters how hard it is to you.

I see my mountain more like an ice cream sundae from a 50’s greaser movie. Food discipline and unfulfilled potential, with cream and a cherry on top. You see if I compare myself to others…well, others find it relatively easy to control their eating. Sure, they have occasional splurges but they don’t lack overall control. I doubt many will eat until they feel sick. These lucky gits know that full feeling as satisfaction, not a challenge to kick on and try to fit some more in. Even typing this I’m thinking about a Twix, and not the small one; the big Duo one.

In turn, this leads to part of my unfulfilled potential. This one is the real kick in the tender regions, because arguably I’ve achieved more than a lot of people. Enjoying that is difficult, even if I can take a little pride from it. Bad diet leads to an energy vacuum that means I don’t feel fulfilled from achievement either. I can never get full on that. I can get full on burgers.

This is where the comparison game really holds me back. If I’m doing better than many, should I not be happier?

More content?

More fulfilled?

And then the guilt comes.

Should I just accept where I am?

Should I stop dreaming of more?

I still often compare my life to others and spiral into a world of guilt that I’m not more appreciative of what I have. Even as I type this I realise that appreciation isn’t the right word, but neither is contentment. I just don’t think I’ve peaked. I don’t think I’ve answered the question inside of “what can you actually achieve”.

Laced through that is fear.

The fear that actually I’m not as good or smart as I think I am. That if I really push myself I’ll be quickly found out.

But that’s the challenge we all face. I can’t be the only one that’s afraid of failure, so better to play it safe and just…coast?

I mean others make it look so easy. It’s the reason so much content, and there is so much content, doesn’t resonate with me. I see the hard work where hard work is needed; where it’s expected. In the gym, or the early morning. I don’t see the hard work in the areas which are challenging me. No one’s walking about turning away from the chocolate fountain, marshmallow in hand, trying to be strong. About measuring yourself against others other than saying “don’t do it”. Really? If it was that simple we’d all be fucking perfect wouldn’t we.

They don’t talk about that gut twisting fear of failure. I mean, what if no-one reads this?

What if people do but they make fun of me?

What if the people who know me judge me, or look at me differently?

Those are the cliff faces I have to climb every time I write an article. They are cold, icy cliff faces, easy to slip on and fall back to the bottom of that goddamn mountain. Some days those cliff faces are taller than others. It’s not a constant, it’s a variable.

It’s easy for people to utter “just eat less”, like it’s some sort of magic mantra flying straight out the arse of the nutrition Unicorn. No shit. It’s that easy, right?

We all have something we struggle to overcome; a difficulty that paralyses us. It’s all too easy to quickly to forget this. To judge somebody else’s “thing”. I have ill-discipline when it comes to food, no question. But it’s not a choice. At least not a simple, easy or even manageable choice.

To look up at your mountain from the bottom is daunting. It can feel like each step makes such minuscule progress that even a month in you can feel like you haven’t moved at all.

It’s one of the reasons I design the 7 Day Reset for myself. It acts as a powerful reminder that the smallest steps are still steps.

I don’t need the heroic, life changing “never again” moment to start my journey. Neither do you.

You need quiet reflection on what you have achieved. The ability to recognise what’s imperfect and appreciate the small things that you can do to keep moving up your own mountain. It’s not a straight path upward for 99% of us.

It’s a winding path, going around the mountain but rising one small step at a time. Just a degree or two up the cliff face.

You see your struggle as somehow less than others, or the change you’ve made seems insignificant by comparison.

Recognise that your struggle is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. That means it takes heroism, bravery, the same fucking guts as someone fighting for their last breath.

If you find it hard and they find it easy, that means you find something easy that they find hard. If you can’t see that in their content, it means they’re hiding it from you. They’re only presenting the highlights of their journey. It’s not real.

Climb badly. Climb slowly. Just bloody climb. One step after another, small or large.

No-one has it worse. The hardest thing you have to do will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. It’s as hard as anything anyone else has ever done, because that was the hardest thing they’ve had to do.

The mountain is deeply personal, and can only be measured against itself.

Disclaimer: This article reflects personal perspectives and experiences relating to fitness, mindset and wellbeing. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment.