A Message to All Hikers: It's OK to Be the Last One Up the Mountain

"Wait, why am I fighting for my life right now?" I ask a member of the Adidas Terrex team. We haven't even made it to the trailhead yet, and I'm red in the face, sweating bullets like an eighth grader running the mile for the first time. I can't decide what's worse: me trying to act like I'm fine when I'm so clearly not, or the large group of hikers and content creators just a few yards ahead, waiting for me to pull my shit together.

Since developing an autoimmune condition in 2021, I don't always like to admit how much has changed. In a lot of ways I take my health more seriously now. I genuinely enjoy moving my body and trying new workouts — something my past self rarely made time for. So when Adidas Terrex decided to celebrate the launch of the new Skychaser AX5s with a three-mile hike up to the Griffith helipad, I was beyond game. In all honesty, I thought the trek would be a breeze.

In my typical routine I go to the gym almost daily. I lift weights, I do yoga, I've tried Solidcore, Barre, and Pilates, and, yes, I've gone hiking in LA. But some days my body still doesn't cooperate. In a lot of ways this is me trying to explain my illness to those who might not understand. I'm strong, I swear! I want to scream as I veer to the side of the road mid-hike, a wave of nausea threatening to take over.

Most of the time I can ignore these moments of fatigue and frustration until my energy decides to return (rest is crucial). This moment feels slightly different, as I watch other, healthier people quite literally pass me by. I don't want to slow down, but it's the only way to keep moving forward.

The larger group is long gone by the time I finally make it to the trailhead. To me, it feels like a steep upward incline and I'm moving at a comically slow shuffle. People always say to take things at your own pace, but putting this into practice is extremely humbling (cut to me chugging along a mountain and pausing every five minutes to breathe).

That said, there are some pros to slowing down: with less hikers around, I'm able to fully savor the cotton candy pink sunset. My body hurts, but my feet don't (thank you, Skychasers). And gradually, I feel less concerned with keeping up with the other hikers, and more happy that I'm able to hike at all.

I make it to the Griffith helipad, and I mostly feel relieved. I look at all the people dancing (did I mention the celebratory DJ?) and a part of me still wishes I was like them, grieving "me" that could've climbed this mountain in half the time. But truthfully, those past versions of myself never would've said yes to this opportunity in the first place.

I sit for a minute to take it all in — tired but proud: of making it to the top, but also for slowing down when I needed to. At the risk of evoking Miley Cyrus's "The Climb," it really doesn't matter how fast you scale the mountain. Listen to your body, and you'll make it to the top eventually.

Chandler Plante (she/her) is a social producer and staff writer for the Health & Fitness team at Popsugar. She has over five years of industry experience, previously working as an editorial assistant for People magazine, a social media manager for Millie magazine, and a contributor for Bustle Digital Group. She has a degree in magazine journalism from Syracuse University and is based in Los Angeles.