Powerful Words Can Carry Us for a While. But What Happens When the Exhaustion Runs Deeper?
“Giving Up Is Not in the Blood” — Nimsdai Purja
An extended definition: Accomplishing an achievement with the aid of powerful words can sometimes be a little like caffeine or a band-aid - they can get us through, but they don’t necessarily heal what sits underneath. And that kind of “not giving up” is another level of courage.
Let me explain…
On the night of 26th September, I joined 170 other people for a 36km night hike zig-zagging up and down the Dorset coastline, setting off in the evening and walking through the night until Sunday morning.
It was one of those challenges that sounds like a brilliant idea when you’re signing up and a very different proposition when you’re standing in the dark, with tired legs, aching feet and another hill looming ahead.
Spoiler alert:
This event didn’t come with a Hollywood-style ending, a dramatic life transformation, or a sudden moment when everything changed forever. It did, however, come with a massive challenge: finishing and a lesson for my week.
The night began brilliantly — full of fun, excitement and anticipation. But somewhere around 2:30 am, something changed.
And that’s when the reason I was doing it, and the people I was doing it for, began to matter in a completely different way.
I hope that, by the end of this story, it helps you understand why.
The event was organised in support of the Nimsdai Foundation and the Nepalese communities it serves. For me, taking part felt deeply personal.
It was personal
Those who know me will know how much Nepal means to me. It helped me heal after one of the most difficult periods of my life. - A month spent hiking amongst extraordinary Himalayan mountains and some of the kindest, most humble people I’ve ever met gave me perspective, hope and a sense of connection when I felt completely untethered.
So this wasn’t simply about completing a challenge. It was about giving something back to a country that has given so much to me, and this year, Nepal has also been impacted by devastating floods, affecting communities that already have so little. Nimsdai (Nimal) Purja established the foundation but tragically passed away at Broad Peak on 30th July 2026.
Nimsaid - Watch 14 Peaks, Netflix
He was a mountaineer whose extraordinary achievements and mindset inspired millions worldwide and changed the world's view of Sherpas' rights.
Nims wasn’t just a mountaineering legend to me; he was a role model.
Throughout the night, his words and the example he left behind felt unusually close.
I signed up to the event 10 days earlier - delayed due to ongoing health issues then- I stopped debating with myself and simply thought:
“Let’s just do it.”
So I signed up, set up a fundraising page and joined the start line with equal amounts of optimism and determination. The irony is that I train regularly. I run, lift weights, and I’m training as a yoga teacher. But walking 36km through the night in heavy hiking boots is a very specific challenge, and one I wasn’t particularly prepared for.
The first part of the hike was everything I’d hoped it would be. Excitement, laughter, full moon joy.
The Shadowed Illuminated
Then, somewhere around 2:30 am, everything caught up with me. Not just the walk.
The tiredness I’d been carrying for months.
The emotional load I’d been quietly managing.
The stress, disappointment, uncertainty and all the things I’d tried to keep moving through without fully acknowledging - because the truth is, our nervous system can’t compartmentalise forever!
It felt as though every old story I’d ever carried suddenly showed up beside me on the trail.
The younger part of me that still occasionally fears she isn’t good enough. The voice that asks whether I’m capable. The voice that wonders whether it’s all worth it.
I’m sure most of us have our own version of that voice - right…
And there I was, in the dark, with hours still to go. That’s when the why became more important than the discomfort. I thought about Nepal. The communities, and I thought about Nims’ example:
> Not as an instruction to ignore pain or push endlessly, but as a reminder that being in a difficult moment didn’t mean I had to abandon myself.
So I drew a line.
I stopped for a moment, took a few deep recovery breaths, and recalled two of Nim's words.
“If the mind is tired, then you still have 50% left.”
And:
“Giving up is not in the blood.”
Then I started moving again.
I found myself repeating a simple rhythm: “Widen your stance. One, two, three, four, five, six.”
Again and again.
Gradually the world became smaller. I stopped thinking about the remaining distance and focused only on the next step, the next breath, the next few feet of trail. Somewhere in that repetition:
I found flow.
I found focus.
I found momentum.
Before long I was moving strongly again, climbing hills, overtaking people and doing things I genuinely didn’t believe I still had the energy for.
I stayed strong until, quite suddenly, I wasn’t.
My old and rather grumpy IT band finally rebelled during the last mile, sending sharp pain through the outside of my leg and knee. To add insult to injury, the route markings became confusing, and many of us ended up a little lost, wondering where on earth the finish line had gone.
It took me until Tuesday to walk properly again.
The Journey: Dusk-Till-Dawn
The Skills I learnt to take into the week…
The Real Turning Point & the 3 D’s
Yet despite all of that, I spent the day feeling incredibly proud. Capable. Alive. For a while, I carried that feeling with me.
Then Monday arrived.
Work was still work.
Life was still life.
The same challenges were waiting.
Some of the same feelings resurfaced. It made me wonder whether the lesson from the hike could apply to the rest of my life.
I think the answer is both yes and no.
Discipline got me through the walk. Over the years, I’ve called them my three Ds (borrowed from Harry Potter, but altered - lol):
Destination.
Determination.
Drive.
Sometimes those three things are exactly what you need. But here’s what I’ve been learning.
Discipline can carry you through a challenge.
It cannot heal what sits underneath it.
If sadness, burnout, overwhelm, or exhaustion have been quietly building for weeks or months, one heroic effort won’t suddenly make everything better.
The achievement is real. The sense of accomplishment is real.
But achievements can sometimes be a little like caffeine or a band-aid.
They give us a temporary boost, but they don’t necessarily address why we’re depleted in the first place.
For me…
The Real Invitation: To Go Deeper.
To sit with uncomfortable questions.
To challenge old narratives.
To meet the part of myself that still fears she isn’t enough.
And perhaps most importantly, to recognise that this voice frequently appears and gets louder when:
Growth is calling,
Change is needed
Difficult decisions need to be made, or
Life is quietly asking me/us to step into a bigger version of myself/ourselves
That is why Nims’ words continue to resonate. Not because they encourage endless pushing and ignoring pain. But because they remind us not to abandon ourselves when things become difficult.
The Real Challenge: In the Storm
I’m sure you’ve had this too…
A few days after the hike, I found myself sitting in a meeting that felt like a storm - which had been brewing for weeks.
Emotions were high. Opinions were strong. At times, it would have been easy to become defensive or react emotionally.
Yet something felt different.
Rather than being swept into the chaos, I stayed in the centre of it. I spoke more slowly when voices became louder. I listened when my instinct was to react.
I was willing to offer calm opinions and change course when presented with a different perspective, not as a sign of weakness, but as an act of curiosity, agility and humility.
Most importantly, I left without feeling energetically depleted.
That felt like the real victory.
Not the hike- not the 36 km- the victory was keeping hold of my energy, my centre and my sense of self. Because perhaps the opposite of giving up isn’t always pushing harder.
Sometimes it’s refusing to abandon yourself.
Refusing to abandon your peace.
Refusing to abandon your curiosity.
Refusing to abandon the parts of yourself that need compassion rather than criticism. And on that day and the next, I didn’t.
What has truly helped isn’t another challenge or another mountain to climb. It’s been something gentler and more sustainable.
For me, something I have trained for - and actioned consciously- looks like:
Somatic and breathwork practices that help my nervous system soften its armour and remember that it is safe - I create and stay in the eye of the storm.
Honest conversations with myself, especially with the younger part of me that still carries old fears and insecurities.
Awe. Remembering that life is sacred, that beauty is everywhere if we’re willing to notice it, and that there is always a bigger perspective than whatever problem is sitting in front of us today.
Because this too will pass. And I’d rather move through it with grace.
Not the Hollywood plot, but
I wish this story ended like a Hollywood film. I wish I could tell you that I completed a 36km hike, had a profound breakthrough and emerged permanently transformed. But that’s not how being human works. We are messy, and it’s not a ‘one and done’.
Growth is rarely one life-changing moment. More often, it is a series of small decisions made repeatedly over time and a conscious embodiment and fine-tuning of ourselves:
A choice to breathe.
A choice to stay present.
A choice to return to what matters.
A choice to keep seeing beauty and sacredness when life feels difficult.
A choice to meet ourselves with compassion rather than criticism.
And that’s why those words landed so deeply that night:
“Giving up is not in the blood.”
Today, those words mean something different to me than they did at 3 am on a windswept Dorset hillside.
Back then, they meant keep walking.
Now, they mean keep choosing myself.
Keep returning to what restores me.
Keep looking for awe.
Keep remembering that there is always another perspective, another source of support, another breath and another step available.
And if we’re willing to look for it, there is always goodness waiting to be found.
So, over to you - An Invitation:
Where are you being asked to keep going - and where are you being asked to choose yourself? Follow that, and let flow find you.