The Advice I Ignore:

“Take it easy.”

It’s probably the most common advice I hear before a big hike. Don’t overdo it.
Don’t push so hard.
Take your time. And while I understand where it comes from, it’s one piece of advice I’ve never really followed.

I don’t hike to take it easy. I hike because I want to see what I’m capable of. That doesn’t mean I ignore safety. It doesn’t mean I charge into the mountains unprepared or take unnecessary risks. It means I enjoy the challenge. I like waking up before the sun, shouldering a heavy pack, and staring up at a climb that makes me wonder if I bit off more than I can chew. Because somewhere between that first painful mile and the last exhausted step back to the trailhead, something changes. The mountain doesn’t become easier. You become stronger.

Some of my favorite hikes weren’t my favorite because of the summit. They weren’t my favorite because of the lake, the waterfall, or the wildflowers. They became unforgettable because I had to earn them. The burning legs.
The endless switchbacks.
The moments when every part of me wanted to stop. Those are the moments I remember. The view is incredible, but it’s the effort behind it that gives it meaning.

I’ve noticed something after thousands of miles on trail. The hardest days often become my favorite stories. The hikes where everything went according to plan eventually blend together. The ones where I battled mosquitoes, climbed through snow, got soaked in the rain, questioned every life decision, and somehow ended the day smiling—those are the ones I tell people about.
Comfort rarely makes a good story. Challenge does.

There’s something honest about hiking. The mountain doesn’t care what job you have, how much money you make, or how many followers you have. It only asks one question: “Are you willing to keep going?” Some days the answer is yes. Some days it isn’t.
I’ve turned around on mountains. I’ve failed to reach summits. I’ve limped back to my truck completely spent. But even those days taught me something. Success in hiking isn’t measured only by standing on top. Sometimes success is knowing your limits. Sometimes it’s taking one more step than you thought you could. Sometimes it’s simply showing up when it would’ve been easier to stay home.

When people tell me to “take it easy,” I know they mean well. But easy has never been what I’m looking for. I’m looking for the moments that make me question myself. I’m looking for the miles that leave me exhausted. I’m looking for the climbs that force me to dig a little deeper. Because every difficult trail reminds me that I’m capable of more than I thought I was. The mountains have taught me that growth rarely happens where life is comfortable. It happens on steep trails. It happens under heavy packs. It happens one step at a time.

So no, I probably won’t take it easy.

I’ll keep chasing the challenge—not because suffering is the goal, but because I’ve learned that on the other side of effort is confidence, perspective, and a view that feels earned. And in my experience, those are always the best views.