Birth of the Happy Warrior
With just nine days left on our trip to Cambodia, I made a decision: I would choose to be as happy as possible in a hot, challenging environment. Cambodia, with its rough roads and less-than-ideal conditions, wasn’t an easy place to be. I love adventure and admire my husband’s positivity, but I realized I needed to lighten up. So, I decided to shift my mindset—from the relentless Gladiator to the Happy Warrior.
I accepted my reality: I was a 55-year-old woman in decent shape, but I hadn’t trained to bike for five hours a day in 90-degree heat on pothole-riddled roads. Instead of pushing through, I embraced my limitations. I rode in the mornings for one or two hours, and when the sun got too intense, I hopped into the air-conditioned van. I spent the rest of the day listening to music, napping, and simply enjoying the journey.
The others in our group—including my husband and some determined Australians—toughed it out on their bikes. But I refused to feel ashamed for taking the "easy" way out. My husband was proud of me, and the Australians, used to intense heat, pressed on. Occasionally, they took a break in the van, but for the most part, they muscled through the heat. Meanwhile, I formed a bond with our Cambodian driver, Mr. Tree, a kind, intuitive man who always knew when I needed a water break or a rest stop. Together, we visited temples, admired the stunning rice fields, and even examined barbecued tarantulas on the roadside.
At the end of each day, when the other riders arrived hot, sweaty, and worn out, I would step out of the van refreshed, smiling, and ready to explore the town. A few days into embracing my new identity as the Happy Warrior, I felt a lightness I hadn’t experienced before. I realized that the world wasn’t divided into just one path—the one where you push through discomfort no matter how you feel. There are always multiple options, and I chose the one that felt good to me.
With this mindset shift, I learned to have compassion for myself and others. Before, I’d felt envious or left out when others seemed to surpass me. But as I relaxed into my happiness, I genuinely felt glad for them—and I was equally glad to be sitting in the van. My self-worth wasn’t tied to performance or to what others were doing. It was connected to what made me feel good, to my own standards—not those imposed on me by others or by perfectionism.
On the final day of the bike trip, we arrived at a beautiful park full of towering trees, singing birds, and playful monkeys. The roads were newly paved and shaded by the dense canopy, offering a serene riding experience. I felt energized and rode for hours alongside my husband, with no cars in sight and only the sounds of the jungle around us. Surprisingly, the Australian couple, who had been powering through the entire trip, opted out of riding that day. It was a peaceful, satisfying end to the trip—and perhaps a bit of sweet irony after my days in the van.
Cambodia took me far outside my comfort zone, but it also taught me a valuable lesson: so much of what we consider "necessary" or "expected" is self-imposed. My attachment to perfection, to pushing through at all costs, had been subconscious for so long. And though I encourage my clients to step outside their comfort zones, this trip showed me that I, too, am constantly learning and growing—even when I least expect it.