Challenge is Life.
Life is a challenge sometimes.
But a solo wilderness expedition last week, reminded me that risk & challenge are essential to life.
My normal day to day is pretty cushy. I work for myself so play by my own rules and work to my own timetable. I could sit and do nada all day and no one would know or realistically care! Like every other founder/organisation leader out there, I have to generate my own momentum.
I’ve found one of the best ways to increase my motivation and productivity is to actually press pause and spend regular time in the wilderness.
In particular, I’ve realised the massive high I get from solo expeditions when I go off grid for 48 hours and walk alone into the wild for an overnight camp.
There’s something brilliantly life enhancing about intentionally walking towards a tough challenge where there’s a level of genuine risk and the outcome is far from certain.
My solo missions have taught me there’s 5 distinct phases to living through big challenges…
1. The Icky, Pukey, Insomnia Inducing Phase
The feeling I get the night before setting out on a big expedition is exactly the same gut churning, sleep depriving sensation I get the night before giving a new speech, launching a new project or having a particularly challenging conversation.
The brain is a perverse thing and likes to amplify fear right before we’re due to face a big challenge. Acting as the body’s health & safety officer it asks “Well now, have you really considered all the risks?”.
2. The Relief of Starting
Fear drops away
Luckily in the cold light of day, even if I’ve had a bad night’s sleep, my body and brain kick into rational, highly motivated action.
Being well prepared helps - a plan A, B and C, the right kit, a stash of food and I’m ready to go.
Time to strike out on my walk with my pack on my back and I feel an immediate sense of calm and comfort in being able to take my first steps.
Irrational fears drop away once I’ve started moving and I’m inside the real, live experience.
3. The Crossroads
Much like the geeky adventure books I used to love as a kid, the interesting thing about tough challenges is you regularly encounter crossroads and have to weigh up different options.
Day one of my walk and the howling wind is a big factor. I face my first big decision - how high to camp?
Campsite for one
Do I…
A: Plough on to glory and camp at the mountain top?
or
B: Err on the side of caution and camp lower down?
I choose plan B and camp at a lower level in the lee of the mountain rather than risk pitching my tent on its exposed top. Even so, my tent poles bend and buckle in the extreme wind as I try to get some sleep.
I wake at 3am to perfect stillness with the eerie feeling that someone is shining a torch directly at my tent.
It all feels a bit Blair Witch but I decide to unzip my tent and investigate only to find that its not a torch shining down on me but the bright moon surrounded by every star in the sky.
Sometimes the way forward is less than appealing
The same clear skies greet me in the morning but as I strap on my pack again and approach the higher reaches of the mountain, the cloud closes in.
I face another crossroads - power through the fog or turn around and retreat? Keep leaning into the uncertainty or give up?
My optimism bias and sheer bloody mindedness win out and I decide to persevere and keep going into the murk.
As with so many tough challenges, sometimes we simply need to keep putting one foot in front of the other - more in hope than expectation - and see what happens next.
4. Euphoria
This time my roll of the dice is rewarded when I break through the cloud and find myself on the plateau - alone in the sunshine, surrounded by beauty and complete euphoric stillness.
It’s an introvert’s paradise and I skip along with a big, silly grin on my face, my boots crunching on the fine gravel of the Cairngorm tundra.
It’s not actually the top of the mountain. The ridge is a false summit and, Scottish mountains being Scottish mountains, the actual top is shrouded in fog and anticlimax.
On this trip, like so many others, its the unexpected moments along the journey that are most special, not the anticipated high point.
5. The Afterglow
The final 5km is a painful slog back to my car. I have the distinct feeling the soles off my feet are burning off. Like with any hard challenge, there’s no avoiding some blood, sweat and tears and I arrive back at my car looking feral.
But the pay back of feeling so brilliantly alive means it’s been worth every minute of effort.
In the car home, the brain does its magical thing when its been genuinely stretched. I have a flood of new ideas and a renewed sense of purpose for the dark weeks ahead.
I return to safety and comfort feeling grateful to be alive, basking in the afterglow of having walked towards the risks of an epic challenge and received beautiful, unpredictable rewards in return.
To everyone walking towards tough challenges right now. Keep moving. Keep the faith.
