Mount Kinabalu Experience – Kicking Off Asia With a Summit

Starting the Journey

I’ve been in Malaysia for three days now, and I’m absolutely thrilled to be here. My body is handling the traveling surprisingly well. Between the 52-hour California Zephyr ride from Chicago to San Francisco—where I didn’t sleep all that great—and then immediately hopping on three flights over a 27-hour window… my body just carried me through it all.

The first flight alone was 16 hours across the Pacific. I think I slept maybe an hour or two total, cramped in that tiny little seat. By the time I arrived in Kota Kinabalu after essentially 80 hours of travel, I was buzzing to move. I got all my stuff to my room, immediately threw on my running shoes, and got out for a 3.33-mile shake-out. After almost 80 hours of no PT, that run felt amazing.

KK hit me with its heat, humidity, chaos, markets, noodles, rice, chicken, the drone-worthy coastline—and incredibly cheap meals that would cost $50–$60 in Denver but not even $10 delivered here. Portions are smaller, flavors deeper, and all the fruits are different. I’m realizing quickly that I’ll be shifting my breakfast staples since berries don’t seem common here. But the food? Unreal.

Even better, I’ve been running and lifting since arriving. No misses. Travel hasn’t crushed me—if anything, it’s energized me.

Mount Kinabalu: The Start of Something Bigger

This whole Asia trip, I wanted to kick off with something big. A challenge. A statement. A “Welcome to Asia” that wasn’t just symbolic—it was physical. After finishing the Boulderthon in late September, completing the Integrative Health Coaching course at UHP in October, and preparing for long-term travel, I knew I needed something powerful to set the tone.

Mount Kinabalu delivered.

I nearly booked it last minute. A thousand bucks felt like a lot. But something inside me said do it. Start with a bang. Something worthy of this entire year’s transformation.

The Solo Start & A Guide Named Cornelius

When the tour company picked me up, I assumed I’d be joining a new group since I had date changes. But nope—I was the only person on the roster. My own personal guide for two days on the tallest mountain in Malaysia.

We drove from KK to Kinabalu Park, stopping at the little mountain town of Nabalau—famous for pineapple. I bought one, sprinkled with pink salt, and it was hands-down the juiciest pineapple I’ve ever eaten in my life. Not sticky-sweet like Hawaiian pineapples—just perfect.

Drone footage. GoPro footage. Markets. Fresh produce everywhere. Life felt expansive and new.

My guide’s name was Cornelius, 44 years old, just one year ahead of me. The first thing I noticed? His calves. Absolutely massive, carved from granite. The kind of legs that tell you this dude has climbed this mountain thousands of times… which he actually has—over 1000 times in 12 years.

I immediately sized him up, and I’m sure he was doing the same.

The Climb: “We’re Just Out for a Little Walk.”

Day one’s climb is about 4,600 ft gain over 6km—essentially 4 miles of stairs. The average time is 4–6 hours.

We started hiking and immediately I realized something: I wasn’t rushing, but I was efficient—shoulders back, upright posture, firing from the hips, pushing off the calves, keeping knee-over-ankle. Every step was smooth but powerful. A little rocket booster rhythm.

An hour in, I asked Cornelius:

“What’s the fastest you’ve ever done it?”

“About 2h 30m,” he said.

“Slowest?”

“Ten hours. Twenty people. Four guides.”

I started calculating our pace. I asked if we’d be sub-4. He said easily. More like sub-3.

We barely stopped—maybe three times, max one minute each. Just enough to sip water, catch a breath, take a GoPro shot.

This was FUN.

I couldn’t wipe the ear-to-ear grin off my face. I kept saying:

“We’re just out for a little walk.”

People coming down were wide-eyed:

“You’re here already?”

“When did you start?”

When we hit the final section and I realized we were on pace for under 2:30, something switched. I wanted it. Not as a tourist—as an athlete.

For the last ten minutes, I pushed. Heart rate averaged 136 BPM, and peaked at 168 BPM. My guide fell behind a little—maybe a minute back.

We finished in:

2 hours 27 minutes — beating his personal record.

He’s done this climb three times this month already and over 1000 times total. And we beat his own best.

At the top, other guides saw us roll in and literally dropped their jaws:

“You’re early!”

Massive confidence booster. Not ego. Just a deep, grounded acknowledgment:

I am in better shape than I even realized.

Above the Clouds: Gratitude Overflows

The chalet sits above the cloud layer. When I arrived at 10:30am, I couldn’t check into my room until 1pm. Lunch was a bag—two hard-boiled eggs, banana, sandwich, Oreos, crumb cake, water.

Thirty minutes after arriving, the sky opened and it poured for two straight hours. Everyone else—70+ hikers behind us—finished in cold, soaking rain. You could feel their souls crushed.

And me? Dry, warm, looking over the clouds, drinking tea, writing, grateful.

I sat there thinking:

This is exactly where I want to be.

This is exactly who I want to be.

Life is amazing. I’m so thankful for this body, this mind, this soul.

I talked to a traveler named Steven—older than me by ~15 years, traveling Southeast Asia for 3 years. He called me a “mountain goat” when I passed him earlier. We talked about life, health, mindset.

He told me several times:

“Tom, you have a lot of wisdom. You’ve clearly made good decisions to end up where you are. I learned a lot from you.”

That hit deep.

The Cold Night & Early Wakeup

The chalet is wood. Thin walls. Cold air. Power outages. No hot water. I slept wearing socks, long pants, neck gaiter over my head. I took what my mom calls a “whore’s bath” aka (PTA—pits, tits, and ass).

Lights were out at 6:40pm. Up at 2am for breakfast. A cold, dark, amazing morning.

I suggested to my guide we hold back 15–20 minutes so we wouldn’t have to wait in the freezing wind for the sunrise at the summit. He agreed. Smart call.

We left around 3:21am. Under headlamp. Slow. Controlled. I appreciated his pace.

Ten minutes in? Passing people.

Word had spread:

“There’s the fast guy.”

I felt calm. Focused. Smooth.

Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

I must’ve said that 100 times.

The Summit Push

We reached the top in about 2 hours, well before sunrise. The granite slabs, ropes, mist, headlamps… it felt surreal. At the summit, my guide held his headlamp to light my face while I recorded a motivational message into the GoPro—talking about gratitude, life’s grip, choosing hard things.

Then we watched the sunrise.

Red, orange, pink, clouds below us.

Several srangers witnessing the same miracle.

Steven made it up too—we got a photo together.

The Descent: Pure Flow

On the way down, one guide asked:

“You going to run?”

I had already asked Cornelius.

He said yes.

So we ran.

People stared like they couldn’t believe it. I occasionally heard:

“Wow!”

“Amazing!”

“Unbelievable!”

The descent is technical—80% under canopy, steep, misty, wet roots, rocks, everything slippery. Foot placement had to be laser-precise. But my legs switched on. Everything fired.

I wasn’t rushing.

I was efficient.

A dance—every footfall considered, every inch saved, every joint protected.

We reached the lodge in 1 hour. Half the time of the ascent.

Then we packed and continued descending the rest, totaling 7.5 miles and 7,500ft back to the base—nonstop.

Lessons From the Mountain

Life is easy when you stop telling yourself it’s hard.

This mountain wasn’t suffering—it was joy. Presence. Sound of birds. Water dripping through the canopy. Fog swirling. Every sense heightened.

Though many people were unprepared—brand new poles, brand new shoes, no trail experience. They suffered because they decided they would suffer. And yet, I give them nothing but props. For showing up. For saying yes and for taking on something hard, no matter how it looked.

I kept telling myself:

“It’s just a little walk.”

And that’s what it became.

The biggest lesson?

It’s the tiny details—the smallest habits—that make this mindset possible.

A single grain of sand doesn’t build a beach.

But millions of them do.

A single small habit won’t change your life.

But dozens layered relentlessly will build the strongest version of you.

I am nothing special.

I am consistent.

I show up.

I trust myself.

I choose challenges.

I chase breakthroughs.

And breakthroughs create momentum.

And momentum creates a life you love.

Hot Springs & Reflection

After the descent, I got dropped at the Poring Hot Springs. I’m sitting in the reflexology garden now—walking across sharp stones meant to massage the foot. Haven’t showered yet. Filthy. Sweat-salted. Full belly.

And happy.

Deeply happy.

I’ll soak in the hot springs soon, then head to KL tomorrow.

This trip is off to a powerful start.

A beautiful start.

A meaningful start.

And more than anything:

I’m grateful.

For my health.

For my mind.

For my soul.

For the love I give and receive.

For the people who helped me get here.

For life.