From Corporate 8–5 to Weekend Warrior: The Struggle Is Real (And So Are the Mountains)

There’s this funny little myth floating around the internet — the idea that people who live near the Rockies spend every weekend gallivanting up peaks, sipping summit coffee, and posting inspirational reels about “choosing adventure.”

Yeah… about that.

Let’s talk about the real transition from a corporate 8–5 to the adventure weekends we wish we had. Spoiler: it’s not seamless. It’s not aesthetic. And sometimes it’s not even happening.

The Corporate Drain Is Real

By Friday at 5:01 p.m., I’m usually staring at the wall like a Victorian child recovering from consumption. The week has wrung me out like a damp dishcloth — emails, deadlines, meetings that could’ve been Slack messages, and the existential dread of “is this really what I’m doing for the next 30 years?”

Sometimes the idea of a “chill day” (translation: lying on the couch, doing absolutely nothing, and pretending gravity is extra strong) wins. And honestly? That’s okay. Burnout is real, and no amount of motivational mountain quotes can override the fact that my brain occasionally turns into mashed potatoes.

Don’t Let the Outdoor Content Fool You

We try to get out every weekend. Truly. We live in one of the most beautiful places on Earth — the Albertan Rockies are literally our backyard. But don’t let the steady stream of outdoor content fool you.

We do not make it out every weekend.

Sometimes we barely make it out of bed. And while Instagram might suggest otherwise, we’re not superhumans powered by trail mix and optimism. We’re just two millennials trying to balance work, life, dogs, and the occasional existential crisis.

Millennial Reality Check

Growing up, we were told we could be anything. Astronauts. CEOs. Professional dragon tamers. Instead, most of us became overworked adults trying to achieve goals that seemed totally reasonable when we were 10 and had no concept of taxes.

The truth?

I find it tough. Really tough. I hate working — not in a dramatic “I refuse to contribute to society” way, but in a “nothing will ever compare to climbing a peak with my little fur family and Kim. But here’s the thing: life isn’t all doom, gloom, and Outlook reminders.

The Positives Matter (Even When They Feel Small)

When I zoom out, I realize we’re actually doing okay. We’re working toward owning a home (slowly… like glacially slowly). We live in a place where stepping onto the front porch with a morning coffee feels like stepping into a postcard. We have jobs that support our sometimes‑expensive hobbies and our definitely‑expensive dog‑parent lifestyle. And that’s not nothing.

If I let myself spiral into the “can I do this for 30 more years?” mindset, it snowballs fast. But if I focus on what’s good — what’s realistically good — things feel lighter.

Why We Moved Here

We knew we’d always have to work. That’s reality. But we also knew we could choose where we worked. So we chose mountains. We chose a place where even if we’re too tired to hike, we can still see peaks from the driveway. We chose a life where adventure is always an option — even if we don’t take it every time.

The Takeaway

In today’s world, you have to be realistic with your goals and dreams. But you also have to do everything in your power to make your life more fulfilling — even in small, stubborn ways.

Or, in corporate‑speak: Control the controllables. And if one of those controllables is choosing to live somewhere that makes your soul feel a little less crushed after a long week?

That’s a win.