I recently had the chance to climb Ben Nevis, the UK’s highest mountain, with my colleagues from work.
We were tackling the challenge not just for ourselves, but to raise money for charity, which made the whole experience even more meaningful.

We all set off together on the Tourist Path, and I stayed with my colleagues for the first 10–15 minutes.
But before long, I felt the urge to push myself and went on ahead.
The weather made things interesting—it began cold and wet, with mist hanging over the slopes, but after about two hours the clouds broke and the sun poured down, turning the climb into a hot and draining challenge.

I reached the summit in just over two hours, where I stayed for about 50 minutes to rest, take in the views, and soak up the achievement.
At 1,345 meters, with the Highlands stretching endlessly around me, it felt like a well-earned reward.

The descent was a completely different story.
With no shade and little water left, the glaring sun made it unbearable to go slowly—so I ran.
About 10 minutes in, I caught up with my first set of colleagues, stopped for a quick two-minute chat, and carried on.
Another 10 minutes later I came across the next group, who told me there was a team photo planned at the top.
I declined, not wanting to lose momentum, and set off again.

Around 20 minutes later, I met the last big group of colleagues.
They told me some had already quit, and that two more had “recently” given up. In reality, it had been closer to half an hour before I reached them.
That news gave me extra drive, so I pushed on harder, determined to catch them.

After about 20 minutes of straight running, I finally caught up with the two.
One of them was clearly in pain and had decided to give up completely, while both of them were dehydrated.
The fitter one had been slowing down to look after their struggling teammate, but as soon as I arrived, they decided to leave and go at their own pace.
That left me with the colleague in pain, and I stopped running to continue the journey with them instead.

For me, that moment changed the whole climb.
It stopped being about testing myself and became about supporting someone else to get through.
It reminded me that challenges like Ben Nevis aren’t just about who gets to the top first or how fast you get back down.
They’re about resilience, teamwork, and making sure no one is left behind.

Climbing Ben Nevis taught me that success can mean different things to different people.
For me, it was reaching the summit quickly, running down, and pushing my limits. But in the end, the most meaningful part of the day was walking alongside a colleague who needed support. Together, we showed that every step, no matter how hard, still counted towards the cause.