Giving up has a negative connotation, but as Kathy Briccetti learned, knowing when to quit is an important and valuable skill.
Mount Etna’s black sand trail was steep and the group’s pace surprisingly fast. I feared I would hold the others back, and I didn’t want to be that person. The one on a hike with breathing problems after climbing three steps. I was the oldest by far, but I walked miles easily at home and didn’t have trouble climbing way more than three steps. But apparently, I did have a problem scurrying up a sandy mountain at an Olympic pace.
Almost immediately my thighs throbbed. My heart beat so rapidly I feared a heart attack, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I needed to stop again and again to rest my legs, or let my pulse come down a few notches and my heaving to subside.
I imagined turning back but hated the idea. My favorite T-shirt reads, “Nevertheless, she persisted.” But now, I felt both shame at not keeping up, and shame at the possibility of quitting.
I asked the guide, “How much farther to the top?” He pointed to another group making the trek above us. They looked like tiny specks cutting across the massive side of the black mountain. “They’re about two-thirds of the way.”