We Did It! The National Three Peaks Challenge in 24 Hours

We almost, ALMOST missed it, but we did it with just three minutes to spare. The journey was filled with ups and downs, both literally and figuratively.

Ben Nevis - 1st Peak

It began with a burst of positive energy and camaraderie. Everyone embraced the hike with laughter and high spirits. It was so wonderful to reunite with some of my favourites too. I didn’t need much help going up with the perfect morning daylight, but I relied on guidance coming down. I was getting to know my sighted guides in terms of walking together for the first time. We started slow, trying to sync our rhythms. I was told to slow down, which I didn’t fully understand at first, but I imagine guiding can feel like a big responsibility!

Scafell Pike - 2nd Peak

The second peak intrigued me the most, especially with my night blindness. We were an hour behind, so we reached the top swiftly, and passersby commented on how serious and focused we all looked!

Two sighted guides were shining the path with their head torches for me. I could somewhat see the steps, but it was still too dark for my eyes to fully adjust. At one point, I closed my eyes for a few minutes and just felt their steps. And no one even noticed as they were chatting away - that level of sync felt incredible!

Snowdon - 3rd Peak

As we were driving to the final peak, I was remembering my first and last time at Snowdon. My mom and I still talk about that day, even though it was about 10 years ago. It was the hardest and scariest hike we had ever experienced. Every time I climbed different, bigger mountains in the years that followed, I kept remembering the Snowdon incident and how I thought for the longest time I would never go on mountains EVER again. I was asked to join Snowdon hikes so many times since, but I kept saying no.

When we arrived at the car park, it was misty and dark, just like it had been on that day. Our Snowdon guide, Cat, was unsure if we would be able to complete the challenge within 24 hours. Everyone packed so quickly, went to the loo, and got changed that I barely even noticed. Then my coach grabbed me and said, “We got this”, as he looked directly at me.

As we climbed, we broke through the clouds. The view was magical and STUNNING! Time was ticking, but we just had to take a minute and sink it all in. From that moment, everything felt like it will be all okay.

But I started to feel a mix of emotions - rebellious and overwhelmed, struggling to communicate my needs to the group. At times, I purposely slowed down, hoping they’d notice. Every time I was far ahead, they always caught up quickly, so I figured it wouldn’t have made a difference to the overall pace if I did just that. The lack of sleep got the best of me. We took a picture at the top of Snowdon and then rushed down. From then on, I held anyone’s hand less and less.

Cat, our Snowdon guide, then suddenly jumped in front of me. I wasn’t sure why she did that at the time, but I stayed focused and used my trick of staying close to the person in front of me and watching the steps. I would have used the sling trick that I came up with my instructor in the winter skills course a few months ago: as a way to not lose the person out of my tunnel sight. But her steps, her stride, and her speed made me completely in sync, forming a mountain train. The adrenaline rush was incredible. I couldn’t believe I was trail running all by myself, something I thought was impossible. It felt so freeing, exhilarating, and empowering. One kept trying to help me, but I declined until they understood to assist only when I reached out. They kept feeling nervous about me jumping down those big boulders, but another swooped in with some words of encouragement, which I really appreciated. It totally took away that fuss feeling I couldn't shake.

And I did fall, maybe three times at least in those 40 minutes of running. At one point, I totally lost my balance - possibly due to that adrenaline rush that made me really shaky. But I was then calmly told to take my time without them jumping in, while my coach reached out a helping hand. I appreciated taking that moment, took my breath, and recalibrated before pushing forward. After that, it felt like everyone was all in. It was a huge risk that could have gone wrong in so many ways, and definitely forced, which wasn’t right of me to do this. But as I kept going, I trusted each step like never before. I was locked into Cat’s steps, and everything else just faded away. The world grew quieter, and at the same time, I swear I could even start to hear the chatter behind me. "Eight minutes, can we do it?" echoed in the distance. I wasn't keeping track of time throughout the challenge, avoiding that extra stress. When I started to hear those countdowns, I wasn't fully clued in to just how little time we had left. I thought maybe it was all for the Gram. But as we got closer, it really hit me: we were racing against time.

And we did it! With just 3 minutes to spare. I couldn't believe what had just happened, struggling to process it all. Emotions hit me, and I tried to hold them in, unsure how everyone felt about my actions throughout that final bit of the climb. But then Lee, our driver, saw me and wrapped me in a hug. There was a weight to the moment, and we were both unsure why emotions overwhelmed us both, but it felt so special to share that feeling together.

It’s so cool to be able to say that I conquered this challenge together with my coach, alongside the gym members, beyond just those 1:1 training sessions within four walls of a gym. And it was so interesting to reflect on how Snowdon felt so much easier compared to ten years ago, despite doing it all in under 24 hours. All the training had prepared me well, allowing me to focus on the journey and the relationships rather than the physical strain.

But in the aftermath of this exhilarating adventure, I found myself needing a moment to reflect on this, rather than making a post about the success immediately. It's so easy to romanticise the challenges that have been successfully achieved, but it's in the valleys of the struggles and failures where true growth occurs. I felt so strong and capable, yet so vulnerable. Things got complicated and messy. The ugly side of me came out. It felt so hard to work on that trust and let myself depend on them, wishing that I could do it all by myself. But ultimately, it was the presence and perseverance of my companions that transformed this challenge into a triumph. Their support and belief in our shared goal reminded me that true strength lies not in solitude but in unity. Thank you, to all who were on this path with me. Together, we conquered the mountains, both literally and figuratively, and emerged stronger, wiser, and infinitely more connected.