Quitting is NOT an option

I stop dead in my tracks to take a rest. Panting, breathing hard, doesn't make a difference, my lungs are hurting, my face is stinging. I am utterly exhausted. My hands hang like dead limbs to my side, my head down low.

"What do you wanna do, Kate?" Sean asks behind me.

To be honest, I want to give up, Sean. I see the peak of what seems to be the top of the mountain, I am good right here. You guys go ahead. Just go. Now. I can sit here and wait.

As I am thinking this, 30 seconds pass and my body has already started the cooling process. It's about -10 degrees, 4:30am on a Sunday morning and we are at a height nearing 4,800m ASL. It's pitch black. We are on Mt. Kenya approaching the "smallest" of the three peaks, Lenana.


I clench my teeth and take another step. Pause. Another step. Pause. I am wearing so many layers I feel like Neil Armstrong, man on the moon. My legs feel so heavy beneath me. My head lamp is dying and the only thing lighting my path is Sean's head lamp behind me and Alex' when he turns around every so often to check up on me. Three days of trekking amounts to this final push. I have to do it, I've come this far, I can't stop now. Sean says it's about 20 minutes more but I know he's wrong. I just know it. Keep going. Doesn't matter now.

I search for encouraging thoughts in my head and I hear my Dad's voice over and over again telling me to keep going. Every time I falter, I know he's there and it's safe. Slow and steady. Then, his voice becomes my own again and I am back in the cold, back in the darkness, back in the moment and it hurts. I collapse on a cold slab of a stone to catch my breath. Heavy panting again, and I turn my body outwards to inhale what little oxygen there is. I look up and I am reminded how beautiful this pain is. I am gazing at the stars and I can't believe how close I feel to them. Shooting stars sporadically appear and I am reminded that in the same way that these appear and quickly escape out of sight, this moment too, will pass. I find my strength in those thoughts and in knowing how good it will feel when I finally reach the top. The voices come back- friends, family, lyrics to the song that holds so many secrets of longing...their last words of support give me confidence again.

I broke down into sobbing tears a couple more times and every time I knew I had to collect myself before exhausting myself all the more. The answer lay in small footsteps, pacing myself and listening to Sean and Alex's encouragement.

As the sun rises, one last jagged rock marks the final 1 meter push. Alex turns to me, he is beaming and he tells me we've made it and that I am a trooper. He hugs me as I am holding back the tears, and he continues on...his energy and strength amaze me even now. Our guide, Mohamed, lends me a helping hand and he pulls me up.

4985m ASL. I am at the top of the world it feels like. The sun is shinning a brilliant white light. The landscape is in all its glory and pristine beauty. I see the clouds far down below slowly rolling over and swallowing the lower peaks, the campsite, my world down below along with all my worries, fears and troubles.




I collapse on the ground on a huge flat stone and feel the sun on my back. I cry tears of joy, I can't believe I made it. Sean and Alex come hug me and I am overcome by our accomplishment.

In one word, unforgettable.

Thanks boys, I couldn't have done it without you.