Don’t go hiking when it’s too hot (Hong Kong Pt. 2)
This is part two of my experience living and working in Hong Kong. To read part one, click here.
After a few weeks of living in Hong Kong, I was settled in my apartment and ready to do some travelling. On the agenda for my weekend trip was sightseeing in Taipei, visiting the Cansbridge founders, and a day-trip to Yangmingshan National Park. The trip went absolutely spectacularly. The weather held at a comfortable 25 degrees, and the humidity was nothing like Hong Kong. On my last day, I packed up my little backpack and headed to Yangmingshan Park. It was so fun to Uber to the top of the mountain, hike through a thick fog, spot some wild cows, and develop a lot of confidence. After spending a good part of the weekend alone, and having such an exciting hike, I felt like I could do anything.
Back in Hong Kong, I wanted to keep riding that wave of confidence. The very next Saturday, after a light breakfast, I set out on my next hike to Victoria Peak. This is one of the most popular hikes in Hong Kong, so I was taking the scenic route. With me I brought no snacks and only 1.5L of water. I started the hike at 12:30pm on a 38 degree day. Right from the start, I was not set up for success. Three-and-a-half hours later, I was still not at the peak. I’d taken a shortcut that was supposed to get me there faster, but the hill was steep, and I was already so tired. I had very little water left, and my last meal seemed so long ago. That’s when anxiety kicked in. Instinctively, I Googled the risks of hiking in the heat, and it wasn’t looking good. As soon as I put down my phone, I felt the blood rush from my face; was I about to pass out? I sat down in the middle of the path and waited for someone to walk by. I felt weak and shaky, and was pretty sure the world was ending. Luckily, after about 15 minutes, an elderly man came down the hill. It turned out I was only 100m from the peak. I explained my situation, and he helped me up the rest of the way. Physically I was safe, but my mind was racing. Had I done lasting damage?
For the remaining two months in Asia, I felt pretty anxious. For every little symptom I felt, my mind blew things out of proportion. A sugar craving was diabetes; a beating heart after a stair climb was a heart condition. Maybe the hike to Victoria Peak brought it on, or Hong Kong’s heat and humidity, but this summer was the worst anxiety I’d ever had.
Still, as weird as it might sound, I’m grateful for the experience. For one thing, it made me recognize my unhealthy relationship with struggle. Before Hong Kong, I had little empathy or compassion for struggles I should be able to control. For example, I thought that I should be able to just will my anxiety away. When I tried and failed, my internal monologue filled with accusation and harshness. Instead of giving myself the care and comfort I craved, I turned on myself. After all these months of anxiety, I have a lot more empathy for myself and others. I’ve realized that it’s ok to be out of control, and to not know how to solve something on your own. And it’s ok to be kind when that happens.
I’m also grateful for all the non-anxious moments. In fact, the good stands out much more than the bad. For one thing, I met some wonderful people. My new friends looked out for me, accepted me, and made me feel included. We watched Queer Eye together, went on (short) hikes, had dinners, and talked openly. We did spontaneous meditations, took pictures, hugged, and had adventures. I don’t know if it was luck or skill that brought these people into my life, but I couldn’t be more grateful. Maybe some of the friendships came out of saying no to things I didn’t find interesting. Others likely came from saying yes to things that pushed me out of my comfort zone. Ultimately, I tried to be honest with myself and others about my values and ideas of fun, and it paid off.
I also had a really cool job. Being a PM at a health tech company meant that I got to work on projects that directly improved people’s lives. I also learned a great deal from my boss, Jitesh. For example, he always knew when to laugh, and when to get serious. He taught me how to plan sprints, and to write requirements so everyone understands the vision. He showed me how to get people excited about ideas while taking time to hear suggestions and provide justification for your point of view. And Jitesh taught me to make the first decision. As a PM, you have to know how to “set the initial stake in the ground.” You’ll probably be wrong, but you have to make that initial call. Then you back your decision up and listen to others. Ultimately, you bring all the info together and “move the stake”. On my last day, he complimented me saying I had what it takes to set the initial stake. I hope he’s right, because man, I really want to be a PM.
Life in Hong Kong wasn’t easy, but it was oh-so worth it.
