Those of you who know me would know that I’m equally comfortable in a saree as in pants. Sarees feed me with a sense of feminine power—the swoosh of fabric as I stride, the pinned-up pallu that signals efficiency and getting things done with my hands. And when the pallu is unpinned, its fluid playfulness can transform me into a diva, even a seductress. But there’s another avatar I love slipping into—my trek avatar. Muted waterproof pants, a sunhat, a colorful jacket, sturdy trekking boots. In them, I feel like an explorer. A woman who can go anywhere. A woman who can conquer the world.
What image does your mind conjure when you picture a woman in boots and trekking pants? For some inspiration, take a look at the pictures I’ve shared here. A woman in boots and pants, the sun in her hair and on her face, eyes lost in wonder as she gazes at snow-clad peaks. Or eyes closed, a half-smile on her lips, resting under a tree in a forest tells us of –
A woman at peace.
A woman claiming her space and her time.
A woman not rushing breathlessly and harried from home to work, but one who declares that she is the master of her own time.
As women—whether we are single, married, separated, widowed, and no matter our age—there are constant demands on our time and attention. We are natural caregivers and nurturers. When we choose to step away and put on hold these demands, to nourish our own souls, we make a statement.
You could be a woman in a spa, spending time and money on a long, luxurious massage, and that too would be a statement. But there’s something powerful about women choosing the outdoors, choosing activities that require effort. A woman runner, a hiker, a skier, a swimmer—she’s pushing herself, pushing her boundaries. These activities demand time, yes. But they also require preparation: physical stamina, mental resilience, and determination. And somewhere in the process of overcoming these challenges, we begin to overcome ourselves. We push past the barriers of our own minds, of family, and society.
Leadership can be all talk unless you truly feel like a leader inside.
I’m a triathlete and I’ve done the Everest Base Camp trek multiple times. But in 2017, when I was trekking to the Gokyo Lakes along with EBC, I had a night I’ll never forget. We were in Luza, at roughly 4,000 meters, when mountain sickness hit me. I spent most of the night throwing up whatever little I had managed to eat. Multiple trips to the common lodge bathroom in the freezing cold—puking, peeing, left me more dehydrated by the hour. The pipes were frozen, the water in the drums was frozen. And to top it all, the bathroom had an Indian toilet, so I had to keep squatting through it all. My husband was worried. Morning came, and I slowly made my way to the dining hall. The vomiting had subsided in the early hours, so I managed half a bowl of oats porridge and a glass of electrolyte. Thirty minutes later, I stood up and decided to push on. I would take it as it came. Push as far as I could.
Turning back was an option—it always is, but not one I was willing to consider unless absolutely necessary. The winds that day were fierce and directly against us. But we kept moving. Step by step, we eventually reached Gokyo that very same day after a long, exhausting walk. The next morning, I woke up at 4 a.m. to climb Gokyo-Ri. A fitter, stronger male friend decided to skip the climb that day.
That journey taught me many things. But the most important lesson was this: I had more in me than I knew. And so do all of us.
Too often we believe the worst about our capabilities instead of trusting our strength and keeping the faith. The lessons we experience firsthand are the ones we never forget. They shape us in ways no lecture or book ever can.
I have my friend Vikas Dimri and my husband Rahul Kulkarni to thank for nudging me toward trekking in the first place. The poem at the end of this post is an ode to them.
And to all the women friends I have—those in corporate jobs, entrepreneurs, homemakers—I urge you (and perhaps I hope to be that little catalyst) to take up trekking, hiking, or any sport.
Deep in the jungles,
a transformation takes place.
Slowly,
You don’t hear it coming,
You don’t know it’s coming.
Then you become aware,
That you’ve been blessed.
Your heart is awake,
To all of nature’s bounty,
The unseen is visible
And what joy in being its witness!
And you,
Thank yourself for silencing the doubts,
For taking that first tentative step,
For persisting walk after walk.
And you want to thank those,
Who pushed you on this path,
Held your hand,
Assuaged your fears,
Until you were strong and brave
Enough to go it alone ❤️
WomenWhoExplore #Resilience #Leadership
#WomenInOutdoors #PersonalGrowth
