My Mum Proved Age is Just a Number

The Birthday Challenge

Last year, my mum celebrated her 80th birthday. Most people that age are planning quiet celebrations, maybe a nice family dinner, perhaps a cruise if they're feeling adventurous.

Not my mum.

She set herself a goal of climbing Snowdon - Wales' highest mountain at 1,085 meters - to raise money for The Children's Trust.

When she told me, I had that familiar mix of pride and concern that comes with having a parent who's clearly inherited the "slightly mental" gene that runs in our family. But I should have known better than to doubt her.

The Training Begins

She didn't just casually decide to climb a mountain and hope for the best. She trained properly. Ten-mile walks three times a week. Powering up and down hills like a woman on a mission. At 80 years old, she was putting people half her age to shame.

She was absolutely unstoppable.

Watching her train was both inspiring and humbling. Here I was, doing my triathlon training and thinking I was being quite impressive, while my octogenarian mother was out there smashing hill training sessions without complaint.

When Things Don't Go According to Plan

But life, as it tends to do, had other plans.

She got ill. Properly ill. The kind of ill that meant training had to stop completely. The Snowdon attempt had to be cancelled. All those months of preparation, all that dedication, seemingly for nothing. She was devastated and I have never seen my mum look so broken and frail. It was heart breaking.

I thought that was it. She'd tried, circumstances had intervened, and that would be the end of it. A noble attempt that didn't quite work out.

But clearly, I still didn't know my mum well enough.

She recovered, started training again, and rebooked the climb. Then she got ill again. Any reasonable person would have postponed again, waited for better conditions, given themselves more time to recover.

She decided she was going to go ahead anyway. So we headed off on the seven hour drive to Wales. Mum, daughter, grand daughter and best friend.

The Day Everything Was Against Her

The weather forecast for summit day was absolutely grim. Wind. Rain. Zero visibility. The kind of conditions where mountain rescue services politely suggest you stay home and watch telly instead.

We were up at 5am for breakfast and then ready to start the hike at 6am. "Mum, it's not safe. You're still recovering. The weather's awful. Please don’t do this."

She listened patiently to my concerns, acknowledged all the very sensible reasons why she shouldn't attempt it, and then said, "I'm doing it anyway."

Of course she was.

The Summit

It was cold and extremely windy. There were no views to keep us going, just the odd sheep and the path ahead. When the skies opened and the rain came, we were all completely soaked through and with the wind blowing the wet clothes against our skin, we were frozen. It was tough but this was a lady on a mission, so we had to man up and be there to support her. So that’s what we did.

At 80 years old, still not fully recovered from being ill, in absolutely horrendous weather conditions that would make most people turn back, my mum reached the summit of Snowdon.

At the top we held up one of The Children’s Trust T-shirts, as it was too cold to wear one. She looked knackered, soaked through, but absolutely triumphant. Behind us, you could barely see anything through the mist and rain. But she'd made it.

Because she believed that if you dream it, you can do it. That it's never too late. That age is just a number, and excuses are just stories we tell ourselves when we're scared.

She was right. She's always been right about this stuff, annoyingly enough.

What My Mum Taught Me About Limits

Watching my mum climb Snowdon reinforced everything I'd been learning through my own triathlon journey. The limits we accept are usually the ones we've imposed on ourselves.

We tell ourselves stories about what's possible at our age, in our circumstances, with our limitations. We look at challenges and immediately list all the reasons why we can't, why it's too late, why it's not realistic.

My mum looked at a mountain, two bouts of illness, terrible weather, and her 80-year-old body and said, "I'm doing it anyway."

That's not recklessness. That's refusing to accept other people's limitations as your own reality.

Are You Ready for More?

So let me ask you something. What challenge have you been dismissing as "not for someone like me"?

Here are the signs you're ready for MORE:

You've stopped setting goals (or you're recycling the same safe ones year after year)

You scroll through social media feeling envious of people chasing big challenges while you tell yourself those opportunities have passed you by

You secretly wonder, "Is this it? Is this all there is?"

If any of that feels uncomfortably accurate... GOOD. That discomfort is where change begins. That restlessness is your soul trying to tell you something important: you're capable of more than you're currently settling for.

What to Do Next

Here's what to do with that uncomfortable feeling:

📝 Write down what you actually WANT

Not what you think you should want. Not what would be sensible or realistic or age-appropriate. What do you actually, genuinely want? What would make you feel alive again? What challenge would prove to yourself that you're not done growing and surprising yourself?

🎯 Commit to something that scares you a little but excites you a lot

If it doesn't make you slightly nervous, it's probably not big enough to matter. The goals worth chasing are the ones that make you question your sanity while simultaneously making your heart race with possibility.

Sign up for something. Make it official. Tell people about it so you can't quietly back out when it gets hard (because it will get hard - that's the point).

👂 Start listening to that quiet voice saying "there's more in me"

That voice knows something important. It knows you're capable of more than you've been giving yourself credit for. It knows that your age, your circumstances, your current fitness level - none of these things actually disqualify you from attempting something extraordinary.

Stop drowning it out with all the sensible reasons why you shouldn't try. Start listening to what it's trying to tell you about who you could become.

The Edge of the Beginning

Where you are now doesn't have to be where you stay. This moment - right now, reading this - isn't the end of your story. It's not even the middle.

It's the edge of the beginning.

My mum proved that at 80, you can still climb mountains if you decide that's what you're going to do. What's your excuse for not attempting your version of Snowdon?

Age isn't a barrier - it's just a number on your birthday cake (albeit quite a lot of candles in my mum's case, fire hazard territory really).

Circumstances aren't permanent - they're just the current conditions, and conditions change.

"Too late" is just something people say when they've given up on their own dreams and want you to give up on yours too.

Your Time Is Now

So what challenge have you been secretly thinking about but haven't been brave enough to sign up for yet?

What's your Snowdon? What's the thing that scares you and excites you in equal measure? What would make you feel proud of yourself, regardless of whether anyone else understands why you're doing it?

This is your time now. Not next year. Not when things calm down. Not when you're "ready" (you'll never feel completely ready - that's not how courage works).

Now.

My mum didn't wait for perfect conditions. She didn't wait until she was feeling 100%. She didn't wait for everyone to stop telling her all the sensible reasons why she shouldn't do it.

She just decided to do it, and then she did it.

You can too.

The question isn't whether you're capable - my mum just proved that age and circumstances don't determine capability. The question is whether you're brave enough to find out what you're actually made of.

I think you are. That uncomfortable feeling you've got right now? That's not fear telling you to stop. That's excitement disguised as nervousness, waiting for you to give it permission to take the leap.

What are you waiting for?