The Long Way Up
- Daisy Steel
- 48 minutes ago
- 4 min read
Not Exactly a Natural Climber
There are two types of people in this world - those who climb mountains for fun, and those who spend a week afterwards wondering why on earth they did.
I can confirm I fall firmly into the second category.
Climbing Mount Snowdon had always been one of those things I thought I should do at some point. The kind of ambition you say out loud without ever really committing to it, like running the London marathon. And then suddenly, there I was, halfway up, questioning my life decisions.
I wasn’t alone, thankfully. I was with my husband Johnny, and two of our oldest friends, Rachel and Will. Which was lucky, because at one point Will did, quite literally, have to carry me. I’d love to say it was just a brief piggy back, but I don’t think I’d have taken a step further if he hadn’t.
It was beautiful on the mountain, in that wild, rugged way. The views were incredible. The air was sharp, the sun was shining. And my lungs were…working very hard. There’s something quite humbling about being overtaken by people twice your age, small children, dogs - all looking like they were out for a casual stroll.
More Than Just a Mountain
But somewhere along the way, between the steep climbs and my increasingly dramatic internal monologue, I realised it wasn’t really about the mountain. It was about proving to myself that I could still do something hard.
That thought has felt particularly important recently.
Six Months On
It’s now been six months since Ben died. Forever 24. Writing that still doesn’t feel real. Time has done that strange thing where it both moves forward and stands completely still. Some days feel manageable, even normal. Others come out of nowhere and knock the wind out of your sails.
I’ve recently started bereavement counselling, which feels like a step I probably should have taken sooner, but also exactly the right time to take now. It’s not easy. But it is helping. Just having the space to say things out loud, to cry my eyes out in each session, is something of a relief.
In a way, climbing Snowdon felt tied up with all of that. Not in a dramatic, life-changing way. But in a quieter sense of reminding myself that I can keep going, even when things feel heavy.
Moments That Stay With You
That feeling stayed with me when I visited the Kindness Festival for this month’s episode of When in Frome. One of the most moving parts was a grief quilt, created in memory of people who have died by suicide. Standing in front of it, I wasn’t just there as a journalist or a visitor. I was there as a mum.
It’s hard to put into words what that felt like. To see something so simple, yet so full of love and loss. To know that every piece represented someone deeply missed.
It was a reminder, too, of why spaces like that matter. Why kindness matters. Because you never quite know what someone else is carrying.
I also joined a rural safety walk in Beckington, alongside our local MP, Anna Sabine. It was eye-opening, and at times deeply unsettling. I spoke to a woman who had been indecently assaulted three times in the village. On the last occasion, she told me, the man opened the back doors of his van and she genuinely thought he was going to bundle her inside.
Hearing that, while walking those same quiet streets, brought home just how real these issues are. It’s easy to think of our villages as safe, but for many women, that simply isn’t the case.
The Aftermath
I did make it to the top of Snowdon. Eventually. And yes, I was proud. Although slightly less proud when I realised I had to get all the way back down again.
And the aftermath? I couldn’t walk properly for about a week. Stairs became a genuine challenge. Sitting down required planning. Getting up again required determination.
It did, however, force me to slow down. Which, as it turns out, is something I probably needed.
Showing Up
And that feeling of slowing down, of noticing things, of being part of something bigger than your own little bubble, runs through this month’s episode.
We’ve also been out exploring Window Wonderland, where the town quite literally lights up after dark. And, of course, Sonia has taken on this month’s challenge involving foraging for wild garlic with a level of enthusiasm I continue to admire from a safe distance.
Putting the episode together, I found myself thinking about how much of it comes down to showing up. Whether that’s climbing a mountain, turning up to counselling, or standing in front of something that reflects your own experience back at you.
None of it is about having everything sorted. It’s about taking the next step, however small that might be.
I’m not in a rush to climb another mountain any time soon. My legs would definitely vote against it.
But I’m glad I did it.
Because sometimes, doing something difficult reminds you that you’re still here. Still moving. Still finding your way, one step at a time.
Written by Daisy Steel.
Journalist, columnist and podcaster
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