Climbing Mountains at 83: Sheila Hancock and the Art of Bold Ageing

What does it really mean to age boldly?

For me, it’s about doing something unexpected, something that stretches you. Not to prove anything, but to feel fully alive.

That’s why Sheila Hancock’s story stays with me. At 83, she climbed a real mountain for a film role, not because she had to, but because she chose to.

Sheila plays the lead in Edie, a film about an older woman who sets out to climb Suilven, a steep and striking mountain in the Scottish Highlands. Not on a green screen. Not with a stunt double. She climbed it herself.

Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

After watching Edie, I came across this 15-minute interview with Sheila Hancock on YouTube that brought even more depth to the story.

It’s such a powerful example of what it means to grow older with courage, grit, and an open heart.

“People have low expectations of themselves. If you're not careful, you're told: be careful, you might fall, that's dangerous. Are you a bit giddy?” – Sheila Hancock

At first, Sheila assumed the scenes would be staged. “I thought, well, I won't actually have to climb the mountain,” she said. But then the director looked at her and said, gently but clearly, “It would be good if you did.”

And she did.

Despite her fears. Despite being 83. Despite the exhaustion of filming in boggy terrain and driving rain. She climbed.

She didn’t just act the part, she lived it.

“I went home and thought, oh my God, I'm 83 and climbing a mountain. What am I talking about?”

What’s moving is how openly she shares her doubts. She felt overwhelmed. But she found her way through by breaking the climb into manageable stages, just like the character she portrayed.

I take this as a lesson in how we face anything in later life: not all at once, but bit by bit. With pauses for rest, and with good people beside us.

Sometimes we’re tempted to sit things out. Let something pass by. We tell ourselves it’s easier that way.

This weekend, I almost did. I’d planned to drive to Plymouth, three hours, 180 miles, to see a band I love: Pendulum. Not a sit-in-your-seat concert, but an immersive, high-energy, drum and bass experience. Down at the front. On the edge of the mosh pit. Feeling alive as the music ran through me.

The weather was dreadful. For a moment, I thought about cancelling the hotel, writing off the ticket, and staying home to work. But that, I realised, could be the start of saying no. Of playing safe. Of letting my world slowly shrink.

So I went. I queued in heavy rain. It poured for six hours. My coat and boots were waterproof, but by 90 minutes in, the water had got in and an hour or so after that the inside of my boots were little lakes. As I could feel it next to my skin, I knew it was a bit grim, but I’d already watched some great support bands (Normandie, Wargasm, Hot Milk) and loved Pendulum, so even as the rain reached my underwear I stayed. I danced in the rain. The next day, I was so tired, I changed my plans and rested. But I’m so glad I went.

Back to Sheila. How did she do it?

There’s a lovely moment in a behind-the-scenes interview when the director says:

“The two things you don't want are danger and time pressure. So, we took the time element away.”

Sheila had a dedicated film crew around her. They didn’t let her climb alone. She noticed how they followed her, never complaining, carrying gear up steep slopes. And she realised, she couldn’t let them down.

And then came a moment of transformation. Looking out over the vast Scottish wilderness, she felt something shift.

“I can remember just feeling absolutely at one with nature. I didn’t feel diminished by it … I just felt part of something magnificent.”

In later life, many of us wonder: Is this it? Am I too old to try something new? To start again? To push myself?

Sheila’s answer, though never didactic, is clear:

No. You’re not too old.
You might be tired. You might be afraid.
But you’re not finished.

“It was tough, but it’s kind of wonderful to be doing that at my age... I think all people should be put through some kind of hazardous thing like that. It’s really good.”

It reminds me how often society underestimates what older adults are capable of. We talk about ageing well, but rarely do we talk about ageing boldly. About making ourselves visible again. About climbing the mountain, literal or metaphorical, because we can.

I’m also reminded of the time I lived with a Maasai tribe. It was hard, physically and emotionally. I cried. It stretched me. But I stayed. And I returned changed. Stronger. Expanded.

Sheila Hancock inspires me.

Not because she denies her age, but because she claims it.

She challenges the narrative that old age is only about retreat. For her, it’s also about exhilaration, exploration, and expansion.

As Sheila herself said “Watching Edie… it taught me that you really can do anything if you put your mind to it. It’s never too late to embark on a different adventure… or to try something you’ve always wanted to, but thought you were too old for.”

That line has stayed with me. Maybe it will stay with you, too.

Because whether you’re 63 or 83, or even 33, the truth is this: we don’t always know what’s still possible until we say yes to something that scares us just a little.

Coaching Prompts

1. What mountain, literal or symbolic, might still be waiting for you?
   And what might change if you believed, even just a little, that you could climb it?

2. What’s something you’ve quietly longed to do, but put off because of age, fear, or the expectations of others?
   What would it take to give it a go now, just as you are?

3. Think of a time you surprised yourself with what you could do.
   What did that experience teach you about your own resilience, and where else might you apply it now?