Inner Monologue

A friend told me several months ago that she saw a study about how not everyone has an inner monologue going at all times; it may actually be close to 50/50 (she does, her husband doesn’t). This was baffling to me as I’m fully in the camp that does. I asked a couple of other people and we all concurred that yes, an inner monologue is constantly running and how boring would it be if it were not?! Well, today I really wanted to tell her to stfu (my inner voice, not my friend).

I didn’t make the summit today. Hikers must reach a shelter checkpoint—about 80% of the way up—before 12:30 to continue, which ensures there’s enough time to descend before sunset. I couldn’t start the hike any earlier than 10 due to that being the only reservation window available, and would have made it with about 15 minutes to spare if I had arrived at the trailhead by 10am. But. My “arriving in 2 min” taxi didn’t arrive to pick me up until 25 minutes later, which put my arrival at the check-in station at 10:30. I hauled my ass straight up—3,200 ft of elevation gain in 4 miles—as fast as I could. The trail was rocky, and by 2,000 ft, it was covered in snow. I arrived at the shelter at 12:43, and was not allowed to proceed. The view at this point was beautiful as the trail finally emerged from the woods, but I was so disappointed to not be able to continue. I climbed to the top of the bleacher-style lookout to take pictures and just… started crying. For a lot of reasons. Awkward, since other hikers were there lunching or resting. A nice older Korean couple offered me a piece of bread which I politely declined (they were so prepared with hot soup, eggs, a whole meal! Me, I had a couple Rx bars haha), and then soon started back down the trail.

Back to the inner monologue. As I started down, my first thought? I wished I had a saucer. I could’ve flown down a mile and a half—how fun would that be?! From there though, it was frustration and disappointment, at and with myself for my failures; not being able to get to the summit, not getting there earlier, not packing my hiking backpack (it didn’t make the cut when I needed to lose suitcase weight), for not being good enough—at whatever, there are a lot of things—for being bad at love, not feeling like I’ve accomplished what I “should” have by this point in life, wondering what the fuck I’m doing in a country where I don’t speak or read the language and clearly didn’t bother doing enough research (I knew this one actually, but wasn’t thinking at the moment) about the culture and that I probably just offended the couple by declining their offer to share their food. [Since I got back and looked it up to confirm, I actually realized that I’ve been basically doing everything I shouldn’t or that is considered rude: I smiled and said hi to the people I encountered on the trail, I can’t—or don’t—always finish the food on my plate, I handed a person my credit card with one hand, I cross my legs—when sitting—and right after I arrived yesterday someone came to show me how the thermostat works and I was still wearing my shoes. 🤦🏻‍♀️ I’m the worst.] On and on and on… which brings this back to the stfu moment, and me WISHING I was one of those people that didn’t have this constant barrage of internal commentary.

Reframe. That’s what I told myself, trying to navigate the monologue in a positive direction. I need to reframe these thoughts, because that stupid girl isn’t going to shut up (I’m not stupid, I know that, negative Nelly though, needs to kick rocks). I’m on this trip to (visit my son) learn and grow and I get to explore a new part of the world, I should be grateful for the opportunity and ability. I am. I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me.

Change is hard when it pulls you from the safe and known. You have to step outside that comfort zone and face whatever challenges come with it. It’s so hard when it’s not the exciting kind of change. It’s scary, but necessary. I need to change how I judge myself. Instead of focusing on the 'couldn’t, didn’t, should’ve,' I need to recognize my accomplishments. Celebrate the big and small wins. Believe in myself. Give myself grace. I am a lot of things, and some of them are pretty fucking cool. ☺️

I didn’t summit Hallasan, but I made it pretty far and it was a beautiful day. This metamorphosis won’t be a walk in the park. It’s a steep climb—but worth it.

On the taxi ride back, my inner monologue shifted dramatically. For 40 minutes, it fixated on only three things:

1. If this driver had picked me up, I’d have made the summit.

2. Don’t get carsick.

3. My (at least) 70-year-old driver should have been—or was—a race car driver, as we careened around tight turns, hurtling down the road at 110 in a 50. Kilometers per hour.😅