I learned to backpack the summer I turned 49, but had learned to handle mountains the year before.
Overweight and out-of-shape, I could see I’d never make it up the mountain with my new friends so I sent them on ahead.
As the mountain got steeper I slowed my pace. Still running out of breath, I shortened my steps. Over and over, my pace slowed, my steps shortened.
It got to the point I could only take one half step at a time, and then had to pause a moment – or three – to catch my breath.
I felt ridiculous, but decided to go all the way no matter how slowly I had to go.
And, I made it to the top.
Now I’ve learned I can do anything if I go slowly enough and work my way up. It always gets easier so long as I’m willing to start small, adjust, and not quit.
