Honestly, I’m bummed I missed Mardi Gras. I asked off this past weekend months ago so I could slurp up some good drinks with my best buds.

But here’s what my Mardi Gras consisted of instead.

I hiked up Wutong Mountain with a coworker. I put on my tennies, shorts, and a tee, strapped my hair back in a pony, and bought a water bottle on the streets. I swear my legs were whiter than the sunscreen I forgot to apply.

I’ll give us some credit—we looked the part well, but we had no idea what we were actually getting ourselves into. For the past week, we have walked past the hiking entrance of the mountain thinking, “We need to hike that mountain soon.” So we did.

Here we were: happy-go-lucky Dan and Alexis prancing our way through the gates and beginning to follow the path to our destination. I was smiling ear-to-ear because it was actually a somewhat clear day in China, and I was giddy in my tennies excited to overlook the city and snap a photo to send to my brother showing him that not always are the mountains covered in smog.

“Why do you want to go to China anyways? You can’t even see a good view because of the smog.” WRONG-O.

Ya know, I’m not really sure why we weren’t mentally prepared for this hike, but we definitely weren’t. Ten minutes into the uphill hike I remember saying, “Holy shit, I’m sweating like an overweight, hairy-chested, 60-year old man.” Dan laughed, but he was thinking the same. I looked ahead and behind me. Pools of Chinese people swarmed us—adults, teenagers, children, and old senior citizens! Here I was complaining but had to keep up the pace before an old man passed me up.

Laughing yet? Just wait.

Picture me again: tennies, shorts, tee. The typical “let’s go for a hike” attire in the US and apparently the UK too because Dan was dressed similarly. I have sweat dripping from my hair line down my face all the way to my toes. I always said, “I sweat in places that you never even thought could sweat.” That is beyond a true statement here. What is even more mind blowing is everyone claims this is “winter.” I usually respond, “Oh no, you have no idea what winter even is, but if this is your winter, I sure the hell don’t want to know what summer feels like.” I ask a simple favor from you right now: pray for me.

Yes, luckily I’m in black clothing to mask the sweat spots, but stupid me, did I forget that black attracts heat?

Honestly, as much as I normally complain, I kept the complaining to a minimum. I just kept appreciating the scenery, people-watching, and truckin’ along. We stopped here and there for a breather and watched as the people passed.

Ok, sit tight, here’s the climax of the blog post. Some people, but very few, were dressed similar to us. Some were wearing biking gear and some just looked like they wanted a nice hike but they showed a little skin because they wanted a nice little tan as well. We had the fashion-statement Chinese, those wearing skinny jeans and long sleeve Calvin Klein, and those in a sweatsuit. But what really got me wishing I was Chinese born and raised were those wearing full on business attire. I mean the dress shoes, dress pants, button up shirt, tie, and some even a suit coat. “Hey buddy, do you want to take a hike after work?” “Ah man, I forgot my change of clothes at home.” “No worries dude, a quick hike up the mountain in our suits won’t even phase us.”

Nobody was sweating. I mean nobody. And if they were, they must’ve been sweating in places I didn’t see with the naked eye because they were sweat stain spotless.

I dream of hiking in hot, humid weather wearing a business suit without a drop of sweat. I mean, what a life!

Long story short, we reached our destination, snapped some smogless photos, and headed on our way back down the mountain. My muscles were already aching, and I think the salt was crystallizing all over my body from my sweat.

The trip down was full of fresh pineapple on a stick and Chinese people chuckling behind us because I’m sure they were thinking, “Look at those sweaty Americans” (everyone white here is put into the ‘American’ category).

The best part is we only hiked halfway up. There’s still so much more to see next weekend.

I laid open my book and turned to a blank page in my life. I started a new chapter. It’s been bumpy and busy, but I’m swimming not sinking. And for that, I am thankful.

I told myself that this year would be different. This year I would better myself. I promised myself that I would eliminate my concrete comfort zone. I’d stretch far and wide to be uncomfortable, to feel uneasy, so I could eventually result in a sense of comfort/peace in the most uncomfortable, uneasy situations at any time in any given place.

I told myself that no matter the fear, no matter the unwillingness at times, no matter the tears shed, I would be overall willing to change myself for the better. I would be willing to find some sort of comfort, or peace of mind, in any situation. I would use the most absolutely terrifying situations to build me up rather than tear me down.

Our situations that bring us fear may be different, but the concept behind it is the same. Fear is intimidating. Fear is limiting. Fear is the devil. Fear is the result of the comfort wall we construct for ourselves that is pinpointed to a certain location, the comfort that strips us from the rest of the world, from our true potentials. Breaking through fear shows courage, bravery, and strength. Breaking through our location-limited comfort zones is our true break in life. I believe it’s the moment when everything changes. It’s the moment we no longer settle with fear. It no longer limits us.

The comfort I am used to doesn’t exist to me right now. I currently live in a world, a country on the other side of the earth, where my beloved comfort zone is now foreign to me. And although it is greatly missed, it is a place I never want to nestle into anymore.

I am now defining a new comfort, a comfort where I find peace within myself, in my human being, when the world around me seems so dauntingly uncomfortable. Instead of an imaginary wall holding me back from life in a location that is comfortable to me, my comfort lies inside of myself. I will be free to do as I please and go as I please with the comfort of myself providing my new home base.

My comfort zone, my home, is my body. It is no longer a specific location on a map.

Welcome to China, Alexis.