A Tyger On The Loose: Trailwalker

100 kilometers.

62.13 statute miles.

8 mountains.

3 pairs of socks, 2 bottles of Red Bull, 7 liters of water, 6 sandwiches, 3 t-shirts, 3 chocolate-flavored power bars, 15 band-aids.

Surely all of this can be fit into 48 hours? That was the challenge Oxfam throws down during its annual Trailwalker event, a fundraiser for the poor and needy in Asia and Africa. The company I work for is the sponsor of this event in Hong Kong, and has been for the past few years. As such all employees were encouraged to be involved.

So for newbies like me, I thought that meant collecting donations, designing tee-shirts, etc. In other words, the cushy assignments. That is, until some brave soul in the office said to me one day:

Brave Soul: C’mon Pat, I’m sure you can do it. Great way to meet new people and get to know the geography of Hong Kong. Go on, I DARE YOU.

The fateful “d” word was spoken! And so began the frantic search for teammates, intense months of weekend training (as I am starting quite late into the process), earnest pleas for sponsors and girding my courage for the longest march of my life.

The 100 km is actually the (in)famous MacLehose Trail, in the New Territories region of Hong Kong.

This trail is known for its spectacular views, difficult terrain, beautiful beaches, aggressive monkeys, woody campsites and some pretty interesting climbing spots. It was also where the remarkable Ghurkas, Nepalese soldiers garrisoned by the British in Hong Kong, trained for operative fitness before 1997. As a momento, the Ghurkas continue to participate in Trailwalker, winning the grand prize almost every year. This year, they broke their previous record and came in at 12 hours and 30 minutes. This works out to an average of 8 km/hour, which means these dudes must have ran the whole way.

So lest there be any misunderstanding, Trailwalker is not for the faint of heart. Aside from the Ghurkas, normal people and insane hikers (like me) like the challenge of overcoming our physical limitations and push our determination and willpower to the limits, scale new heights, lift our spirits and cast our eyes on some of the most spectacular views Hong Kong has to offer.

And raise funds for Oxfam’s good work along the way, of course. You try and keep that in your mind as you trudge through numerous peaks and valleys (see altitude/distance chart), concrete paths, uncountable steps, loose rocks, smooth boulders, shifting sand, tumbling gravel, and start at the sounds of an occasional snake or wild boar.

The hike is continuous, with 9 checkpoints in between complete with breads, cakes, water, coffee, tea and the oh-so-necessary first-aid and podiatry stations. Our brave State Street support team members were an inspiration, with unfailing good cheer, strong words of encouragement and hot hot food. They stayed up all night, trudged up the hills themselves with bags of food and care packages, provided back rubs, massages and the occasional corny joke or two. Without them this experience would have been that much drearier. So a shout out to these great volunteers, you guys are awesome.

But that’s all logistics.. the question remains: So how did you feel during the 100km hike?

In three words – Mind Over Matter. The first 20 to 30 km was relatively smooth, there is the excitement that pumped adrenaline through my veins and buoyed me past the first few checkpoints. Somewhere after 2 a.m. about 15 hours into the hike, the body and the mind start to have some very interesting tussles.

The body says after Checkpoint 3, that the steps are too steep and the roads are bloody long. The mind says, step with your heel first and fully extend, then breathe in and out every alternate step.

Your body says at Checkpoint 4, "Hey, it’s 3 a.m. and we’ve been going for 16 hours straight, let’s take a break." Your mind says "Blink your eyes and look at the beautiful night sky and the rolling shadows of the hills yonder, let's see how much more there is of this beauty."

Your body says at Checkpoint 6 that these bloody (literally) blisters are too painful and it's time to sit for a while. Your mind says to bandage them up and the pain will fade after you establish a solid walking rhythm, and what are you, a crybaby?!

Your body says at Checkpoint 9 that it’s almost the end, let’s reward the hard work with some well-earned shut-eye. Your body says, what the hell, another 12 km to go, let’s push on!

So after 36 hours and 48 hours, muttering to myself “Gotta push on, gonna make it, must finish…” as a chanting refrain with every painful step, occasionally shouting to myself out loud “Why am I doing this??” and my teammates responding “Cos you’re insane! We’re all insane!”, I was finally at the end. Clutching my hiking stick like it was my last lifeline, toes soaking my socks with blood and sweat, hat askew, clothes sopping wet, eyes gritty from lack of sleep, I let loose a sobbing shout of relief when I saw the finish line.

Forgetting protesting kneecaps and blistered toes, ignoring tired muscles and sweaty body, I grabbed my teammates’ hands and we ran full tilt into the finish line and danced with joy at 11.48 pm Saturday November 6.

This was a challenge for four veritable strangers to hold on to our determination, push our limits, support each other, and persevere when every muscle, bone and sinew is telling you give it a rest. Our team of four successfully raised over HK$20,000 for Oxfam, thanks also to all my friends and colleagues who supported our cause (including many from Securities Finance!). And surely that was the point of it all, to do some good and help the needy, sharing our fortune with those that haven’t see any of late.

Would I do it again next year? I say, ask me again when the scars on my toes fade, or if someone dares me again...