The mountains don’t care how old you are-they only ask: will you keep climbing? I never imagined I'd be standing at the foot of the world’s greatest peaks, lacing up my boots beside climbers half my age. The trails ahead were ruthless - rocky, glacial paths to Everest Base Camp, and later, the windswept, unforgiving slope of Kilimanjaro, where cold and heat battled within the same day. I wasn’t chasing records - I was chasing proof that life doesn’t shrink with age; it expands, if we dare to keep stepping forward.
On those steep trails, youth counted for little. What mattered was resilience- the grit to keep putting one foot in front of the other, patience to endure the slow climb, and the quiet strength to push through when the path seemed endless. As the air thinned and every step burned, I realized that a body shaped by decades of laughter, sorrow, and life itself is capable of far more than we often imagine.
Of course, there were moments of doubt. One icy morning, edging sideways along a narrow glacial path to Everest Base Camp, my legs grew heavy, my lungs ached, and I stayed in a small tent, and I wondered if I had been foolish to take this on. But then I looked around- at prayer flags fluttering against a turquoise sky, at strangers who had become companions on the trail. Regardless of color, religion, language, or ideology, we had become a family, sharing first aid, food, and encouragement. Surrounded by the majestic world so much bigger than my fears, I understood something: courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the strength to keep walking even when fear walks beside you.
When people ask why I took on such demanding treks at this stage of life, I tell them simply: because I could. Too often, women are told to slow down, to take fewer risks, to choose comfort over challenge. I wanted to prove that there was more ahead, not less.
I didn’t begin this journey as a lifelong athlete. I began as a woman with a dream and the determination to honor it. My training was modest but consistent: brisk daily walks, local races, stair climbs, weekend hikes, and eventually small weights to strengthen muscles I had ignored for years. Mental preparation mattered just as much. On long walks, I trained my mind to focus on one step at a time instead of the miles ahead. I learned to breathe through discomfort rather than fight it, to welcome the struggle as part of the climb.
The mountains are humbling. On the trek to Everest Base Camp and Kilimanjaro, I moved through six ecological zones- farmland, rainforest, moorland, steep rock faces, sliding dunes, and icy glaciers surrounding vast craters. Each shift in landscape, from moonlike ridges to breathtaking summit views, reminded me how fragile and beautiful our world truly is.
The final push to the summit began at midnight, beneath a canopy of stars so bright they seemed close enough to touch. I wore seven layers of jackets, three pairs of woolen leggings under ski pants, and multiple socks, gloves, and hats-so many that my legs trembled under their weight. At high altitude, every step burned, but I found a rhythm: step and breath, step and breath. Pole, Pole - “slowly, slowly,” as they say in Swahili. Around me, younger climbers faltered, and in that moment, I understood: strength isn’t measured in speed, but in perseverance.
Those climbs left me with lessons I carry far beyond the mountains. Resilience is ageless-the spirit grows stronger with each challenge. Comparison steals joy-pace doesn’t matter; progress does. Encouragement from fellow women and men, near and far, can lift us higher than altitude ever will. And fear is not the enemy; the true test is moving forward despite it.
I may have found my strength on the slopes of Everest and Kilimanjaro, but strength isn’t discovered only on mountaintops. It can be found in hospital rooms, in small apartments, in workplaces, and in the quiet moments when we choose to keep going despite hardship. Whatever your mountain looks like today, remember: one step forward is already a victory.
Not everyone can climb the world’s tallest peaks, but we all climb something- illness, loss, financial struggles, uncertainty. What matters is not the size of the mountain but the courage to keep moving. Strength lives in every human heart, waiting to be uncovered.
My journey taught me that strength is not measured by altitude, but by attitude. Every time you rise from a setback, you have summited your own mountain. And that is a triumph worth celebrating, because the best views in life don’t come from staying in the valley. They come from daring to climb.
Best Wishes, Karuna Charities, Inc., New York!
Mercy Joseph
At the Everest Base Camp
