The Climb and the Ego Shift: When Movement Practice Meets Life's Mountains
How a spontaneous climb up Southeast Asia's highest peak revealed the true power of intuitive, varied movement practice
Three weeks in Borneo, Malaysia was a dream winter break for my partner and I. We saw pygmy elephants, orangutans, sun bears, and proboscis monkeys. We stayed in jungle lodges, village home stays, beach resorts and hotels of varying star ratings. We swam below waterfalls and in the ocean, took many river cruises, made new friends, and had some of the best noodles we've ever tasted. But it was also the backdrop for one of the most challenging physical experiences of my life—summiting Mount Kinabalu, the highest peak in Southeast Asia.
We didn't go to Borneo to climb a mountain—we chose the tour for it's abundance of wildlife opportunities. It's not like we weren't given any information about the climb, or that we didn't read it. We were just so focused on making sure we had everything we needed that we were completely ignorant to what was coming. I'm not advocating to go about things this way, please know that.
In the days leading up to the climb, I was coming to terms with what I'd signed up for because our tour group couldn't stop talking about it. I was nervous and was not at all confident I'd manage unscathed. But my attitude was to just enjoy the ride, and not fixate above all else to reach the summit. We didn't feel unfit to do it, but I was incredibly grateful for my consistent and varied exercise routine back home—this is what I mean about your movement practice backing you when it counts.
The Climb: Learning to Listen
Mount Kinabalu's standard climb unfolds over two days. The overnight is spent in dorm accommodation on the mountain at Laban Rata, which took us just over 6 hours of hiking to reach from the start gate. During this first section of the hike, you're immersed in lush rainforest, climbing over stone or up wooden stairs, before you hit open alpine terrain that reveals the granite you'll be hiking on in the early hours. The whole first day covers about 6 kilometres with around 1,500m in elevation to gain.
Once at Laban Rata, you eat a delicious and substantial meal early before hitting bed, knowing you'll wake up around 1:30 AM to trek to the summit for sunrise. I didn't get any more than an hour's sleep—I'm a very light sleeper and there were a fair few snorers in our room that couldn't be blocked out by my ear plugs. It was torturous but soon forgotten once my alarm went off.
This pre-dawn ascent covers just under 3 kilometres and took us almost 4 hours. There are 700m of steps to climb before you reach the steep granite slopes marked with ropes. The altitude wasn't noticeable until we started climbing toward the summit that morning. By no means are you racing up there—you pick a pace you can maintain and rest as often and as long as you need to. Climbing the steep granite sections with the rope was the most challenging part, as it gases you a lot faster.
My partner started to get mild altitude sickness in the last hour or so of the climb up—headache, shortness of breath, nausea, needing to rest every 100m or so. Anyone can be affected by altitude, though the susceptibility and severity varies for each person. Generally, if you ascend too rapidly without acclimatising you are at a much higher risk of it. And Mount Kinabalu is steep. I was doing okay and was gently encouraging him that we didn't have to climb all the way to the summit, but he was adamant. I would find out later that he had something else on his mind.
Once we got to the summit, it truly was the most beautiful and hard to comprehend site I'd ever seen. We took it all in, taking photos and constantly moving to bear the below freezing winds. Andrew passed his camera to our tour guide so we could get a shot with the sun and granite behind us. I turned to Andrew, and he was on one knee.
In complete shock, I said "are you serious?" Followed soon after with my tears, hugs and kisses. Because Andrew wasn't feeling too great and it was too cold to put on the ring or stand still that we soon started our move down the mountain. And my goodness was it unforgettable.
It took us under 3 hours to get back to base camp for breakfast before we started the full descent down the mountain. Our legs were already starting to feel the impact, and by the last few kilometres, "jelly legs" was an understatement. I started walking sideways, backwards, even running for short bursts—anything to change up the repetitive forces into my knees and ankles. I enjoyed the trance I was in. Problem solving the situation as much as I could. But I rolled my ankle quite badly in the last kilometre and I thought—this is exactly why you need to prepare for this kind of thing. We slept for almost 12 hours that night, and were sore for 5 days. Thankfully we came out of it unscathed and pleasantly euphoric from our very personal exciting news.
The Ego Shift
Here's what struck me most profoundly: every aspect of my varied exercise routine appeared on that mountain. The cardiovascular foundation from daily walking and fortnightly walk-run intervals. The strength, stability, and mobility cultivated through pilates sessions and resistance training in my personal practice at Rosy Movement. But most importantly, years of developing intuition about when to push forward and when to honour rest—not just the physical capacity to climb, but the wisdom to climb well.
As a personal trainer, exercise scientist and pilates teacher, I've learned that consistent, varied movement practice doesn't just prepare your body—it teaches you to trust it. Not through punishing training that overrides every signal, but through the kind that develops listening skills, understanding, and problem-solving abilities.
This non-diet approach to exercise and movement creates a toolkit of strategies you can access confidently, knowing what to use, when, and how. Your ego becomes less likely to hijack the experience because you're attuned to your body's needs rather than external standards, comparison, shame or pressure.
Exercise as a Teacher, Not an Opponent
At Rosy Movement, we believe in size-inclusive and weight-inclusive movement practices that honour every body's wisdom. Whether through private pilates, semi-private pilates, or small group pilates sessions in Collingwood, our approach centres on gathering information rather than fighting your body.
This philosophy extends beyond our pilates Collingwood studio. As fitness instructors committed to inclusive practices, we understand that true preparation builds confidence in your ability to make choices that serve you. It's about developing relationship with your body based on trust rather than dominance.
Strength training and flexibility training become tools for self-discovery. Each session—whether focused on resistance training or mobility work—offers opportunities to practice the art of listening, adapting, and responding with kindness.
That mountain revealed exactly why I train the way I do. Not to prove anything or achieve arbitrary benchmarks, but to trust my body's intelligence. The confidence to adapt, problem-solve, and continue safely didn't originate on Mount Kinabalu—it grew from every consistent, conscious choice I'd made at home.
Your movement practice has the power to be your greatest teacher rather than your harshest critic. It's preparation for life's unexpected mountains, building not just physical capacity but the wisdom to navigate challenges with grace.
When has your body surprised you with its resilience? We'd love to hear your story.
Ready to develop your own trusted relationship with movement? Explore our inclusive pilates and movement offerings at Rosy Movement Collingwood, where every body is celebrated and every journey is honoured.
