Let's just start off with the fact that I am from Miami, Florida. Basically the flattest city there is. There are hardly, if any, hills about a few feet. At 22 years old, I had never hiked up a mountain. That summer, I was accepted to One Heart Source.
One Heart Source allowed me to volunteer in Cape Town, South Africa and mentor three students at a local elementary school. I worked with my students every day for three hours a day. When the volunteers and myself were not at school, we went on trips to the markets, historical museums, old military forts, local restaurants and events going on in the township we were volunteering at. One of the weekends, everyone had planned to hike up Table Mountain. A 3,558-foot tall mountain. Everyone else in the group had been hiking and grew up around mountains. Not me. I was instantly excited and also scared I will somehow fall off the mountain and die.
Because that's possible, right?
It was a quick 20-minute bus ride to the mountain before I found myself at the foot of the mountain. I stopped and stared up at the mountain, still amazed that something can be so tall I was about to climb it. I was ready to climb the first mountain of my life.
So I started running.
I ran for 30 minutes straight up. I was jumping over rocks, climbing and lunging myself over boulders and through the path. I didn't stop once. I looked back maybe once or twice and didn't see my group. One friend did run up with me to make sure I didn't slip or run out of breath.
Finally, I made it up Table Mountain. I made it all the way up. I climbed a mountain. Me. For the first time. I looked around and was able to see so far. I could see all the way out towards the ocean and beyond the city. It was amazing. I was completely captivated by what was before me. My breath was taken away by the view and by the fact that I finally stopped running. I did it..