Climbing Clichés I Rolled My Eyes At…
…until Kilimanjaro proved them true.
Before I climbed Kilimanjaro, I thought climbing clichés were just things people slapped on a pretty picture to post on instagram. But somewhere on the slopes of Kili, those clichés stopped being cheesy and started feeling real. Here are the four that smacked me in the face.
1. “It’s about the journey, not the destination.”
Before my trip, just about everyone I know said this to me one way or another. I’d nod politely but deep down I was thinking: “That’s just what people who don’t make it to the summit say to make themselves feel better.” 🙃
On summit night, we hiked for seven brutal hours in the dark, and the only thing keeping me moving was the thought of that one perfect moment on top of Africa. And then… it was over.
Eight minutes at the summit.
Eight minutes of tears, hugs, and trying not to pass out before heading straight back down.
Those eight minutes were surreal, don’t get me wrong, but they were nothing compared to the hundreds of small, beautiful moments along the way: the unbelievable stars overhead, shocking our porters by writing songs for them, posing with goofy rocks, and most importantly: the nonstop laughter and memories made with my mom.
The climb, not the summit, is where the real magic lives. A quote on a podcast has been sticking with me lately: “The summit isn’t the thing. But you don’t realize that the summit isn’t the thing… until you reach the summit.”
2. You have to celebrate small wins.
Kilimanjaro is really overwhelming if you think about the whole thing at once! Eight days without a bed, shower or toilet. 19,341 feet. Traveling through five unique ecological zones.
The only way I made it through was breaking it down—one day, one sign post at a time. I started celebrating tiny victories: tagging a higher elevation before descending to camp, getting mom moving in the morning without any tears, getting food down without gagging.
Those little wins kept me sane and reminded me that progress isn’t always about big milestones—sometimes it’s just about staying in motion.
3. The people you surround yourself with matter.
Everyone always says that friends become family on these trips, but you really don’t feel the magnitude of what that means until you’re in it. There’s not a chance I would’ve made it to the summit without the incredible hard work of the porters, the wisdom and cheekiness of our guides, and the camaraderie of mom and Sue. We laughed through the rain, pulled each other up (literally) on steep climbs, and encouraged each other through every up and down.
It’s become even more apparent to me that whether you’re climbing an actual mountain or just navigating the daily challenges of work and relationships, the “summit” is never reached in isolation. The people you choose to surround yourself with can make all the difference between giving up halfway and standing on top of your own metaphorical peak.
4. It’s not what happens to you, but how you respond.
On the mountains, things will go wrong. Your boots will get soaked. Your camera dies at the most inopportune time. You’ll puke and then keep hiking anyway (ask me how I know).
I couldn’t control any of it, but I could control how I reacted. This is not something I would say I’m very good at in everyday life! But when life is stripped down to the basics, your choices are: be miserable, or embrace it. Some days that meant choosing to laugh instead of cry. Other days it meant letting myself cry, then taking a deep breath and moving forward anyway.
That mindset shift changed everything on the mountain, but back in real life, too.
Kilimanjaro didn’t just test my physical limits—it rewired how I think about myself, perseverance, community, and what it really means to succeed. I guess clichés are clichés for a reason…