Big Hikes...

It’s no secret that I love yoga, movement, and fitness. Yoga shows up in my life in more ways than just time on the mat—from the conscious choices I make to live a clean lifestyle, to being kind to animals and others, to staying authentic, to listening to my body, and (as many of my students know all too well) my forever challenge: non-attachment (aparigraha)

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This year, I’m committing to doing more for my fitness than I have in a long time. Don’t get me wrong—I’m regularly at the gym, either taking classes or lifting. I practice some form of asana daily and meditate regularly (okay, maybe not asregularly as I “should”). But I haven’t had a specific fitness goal in quite a while beyond maintaining a healthy weight and looking good in my Lulus.

That changes this year.

I’ve set some pretty big goals—most notably, two very long hikes. One is already booked, and the other is pending (more on that once it’s locked in).

A little backstory: last September, my long-time friend Em and I tackled four hikes in a few days, squeezed in a workout, and somehow managed two 15km+ walks around her new home in Vancouver. During one of those lovely nature walks, I casually mentioned that I’d always wanted to hike the West Coast Trail on Vancouver Island.

One thing you should know about Em: if it involves a physical challenge, she’s in. I think she considered it for about ten seconds. Within five minutes, we’d roped in 2 other friends and started planning. My Ottawa friend would say I told her she was coming rather than asking—but let’s be honest, I knew she’d say yes.

Since September, it’s been a steady stream of memes, YouTube videos, books, and blogs about the WCT and everything it entails.

If you haven’t heard of the West Coast Trail, it’s a 75km hike along the west coast of Vancouver Island. It was originally built as a First Nations trade route and later used to help shipwreck survivors. From what I’ve been reading, it’s often called the “Graveyard of the Pacific”—which is both fascinating and mildly terrifying. The trail has deep historical significance and is co-managed by Parks Canada and the Huu-ay-aht, Ditidaht, and Pacheedaht First Nations.

Because this hike spans 75km over 5–7 days, I want to make sure I’m in the best shape possible. The trail guide I bought describes parts of it as treacherous—we’re talking about 100 ladders, wet and muddy terrain, cable cars you pull yourself across, tides we have to plan our hikes around, and (if I remember correctly) a ferry that looks like it once belonged to Relic from The Beachcombers.

On top of the blisters that will inevitably come from walking 75km, we’ll each be carrying about 50 pounds of gear and food on our backs. That alone is something I’m not exactly used to. Sure, I’ve done weekend hikes in Algonquin, backpacked in Italy, and gone on plenty of canoe trips—but I’ve never carried everything for that long. And just to be clear: there are no porters. None. Zip. Zilch.

So what does my training look like? Mostly what I already do—but with a twist. I’m now that girl at the gym in winter: wearing a backpack, filling it with medicine balls, and marching onto the stair climber. I’m climbing sideways, backwards, skipping steps—always with the backpack on. I’m lifting with more specific goals in mind and, most importantly, NEVER skipping leg day.

Physically, I think I’ll be okay—challenged, but capable.

Mentally? That’s another story.

Seventy-five kilometers is a LOT of kilometers. For those who prefer miles, that’s almost 47. Add to that the ladders. I f*&king HATE ladders. It’s irrational and ridiculous, but I’m convinced I’ll fall off. And let’s remember I’m 5’1”. Sometimes that means I can’t let go with my hands until my feet are fully on the next rung. Picture a cat climbing a ladder. (You’re Googling it, I know.) One-two, one-two. Not fast. Not graceful. Now add 50 pounds on my back. Physical and mental challenge? Absolutely.

Then there’s sleep deprivation. I love camping—I do it year-round—but this will be different. Five to six nights sharing a tent, limited space, hiking 10–15km a day, and no naps? Very different from a cozy weekend outdoors where I can crawl into my sleeping bag and call it a day.

And then… food. There will be so much food. I’m terrible with food planning—I either eat too much or not enough, and calorie counting has never really been my thing. So I’m researching. Watching YouTube videos. I saw one hiker who packed her food into separate Zip-lock bags for each day. Military-style rations. Which raises very important questions:

How many snacks is enough snacks?

How much do Zip-lock bags weigh?

How to factor that into my packing?

(These are the thoughts that keep me up at night.)

I’ve set many goals in my life and reached them—not always easily—and this will be no different. This might be one of the biggest physical and mental challenges I’ve taken on in a long time, and I’m doing everything I can to prepare.

Friends who have done the West Coast Trail: please don’t hesitate to message me and share your experience. I can’t wait to earn my spot in that club.

Happy Hiking!