Beyond the Summit: Lessons From Katahdin

The morning started at the base of Katahdin, packs loaded, the Black Bear Fitness Co crew buzzing with nerves and excitement. Our plan was simple: up the Hunt Trail, down the Hunt Trail, with room to adjust if the mountain had other ideas.

The first stretch felt almost easy. A winding trail through the forest, the air cool and dry, steady chatter keeping spirits high. But soon the trees thinned, the rocks grew larger, and the climb demanded more from us. What had been hiking turned into scrambling, hauling ourselves up boulders, squeezing across ledges where one wrong step meant nothing but open air below. And when we thought we had reached the top, another wall of stone waited. Katahdin doesn’t give up her summit easily.

Five hours later, we broke through onto the Tableland, a vast, almost alien stretch of rock leading to the final push. We hiked together for another hour before reaching the summit, where we collapsed into quick celebrations, sandwiches, and the obligatory group photo. Step one, done. Now it was time for step two: getting down. And that is often harder.

We chose the Abol Trail for the descent while two teammates tackled Hunt again to retrieve the car. Some of us were worn thin. Knees ached, hands stung, and the weight of fatigue set in. This is where the mountain really tests you. The brain screams to stop, to sit, to quit. But the truth is, quitting is not an option. You do not want to be stuck on the mountain at nightfall. So the brain steps aside, and the body does what it must. That is when people discover a strength they did not know they had.

For me, the climb carried another lesson. Physically, I was surprised by how capable I felt. It was my first Katahdin since moving away from heavy CrossFit training, and though I train less now, I am lighter, stronger, and more resilient. My body held up. No sore shoulders, no aching knees, no doubt about my back. Katahdin gave me proof that I am fitter now than I was back then.

But what humbled me was not the mountain, it was leadership. This was a BBFC event, and I felt responsible for everyone’s safety. I stayed at the front, setting the pace, but I grew frustrated. Part of me wanted to push harder, climb faster, chase the challenge for myself. I even planned to be one of the two going down Hunt with a teammate, because I selfishly wanted to use the physical challenge of a fast descent to build my relationship with him. It wasn’t until I overheard someone say, “Looks like it’s guys and girls again” (like in the car trio) that it hit me. My role was not to chase my own agenda. It was to lead. To stay with the group and support those who were quietly digging deeper than they ever had. You don’t delegate leadership. I mean.. you can, but that is for another blog.

Once I let go of my own agenda, everything shifted. I was not just climbing anymore. I was witnessing people break barriers, fight through fear, and refuse to quit. Jaime and Erika, in particular, pushed past exhaustion for nearly 11 hours without a single complaint. Later, they admitted they had told themselves “I can’t do this” more than once, but they never said it out loud. They just kept moving.

They are moms who have faced far more difficult challenges than this climb, and they will inspire many others by proving that they can do it too.