Breaking the Silence: Why We Climb in September

September is Suicide Awareness Month, and it’s no accident that Hell on the Hill takes place now. This event was built around one truth we cannot ignore: silence is heavy, and silence kills. The stigma surrounding mental health has kept too many people locked in shame, guilt, and isolation—as if carrying a rock while sinking in quicksand.

The weight gets lighter the moment we speak. The moment we open the door and say, “Me too. I struggle too.” The biggest thing we can do as a community is to talk about it. To normalize conversations about mental health the same way we talk about physical health. We don’t hesitate to mention a trip to the doctor. Why should we hesitate to mention therapy, counseling, or a mental health day?

Courage Leading the Way

We’re beginning to see a shift, thanks to people brave enough to go first.

• Izzy Starks, one of the top setters in the country, stepped away from volleyball on a national championship team to prioritize her mental health.

• Caleb Williams, Chicago Bears quarterback, painted 988 on his fingernails—the national suicide prevention lifeline—using his platform to send a message bigger than the game.

• Simone Biles stepped back at the Olympics, then returned stronger than ever, showing the world that rest and resilience can coexist.

These are leaders—not just in their sports, but in humanity. They are showing us that taking care of your mental health is not weakness—it is strength. And when they normalize it, they make it safer for the rest of us to do the same.

Our Part in the Work

But here’s the truth: awareness alone is not enough. There is a time and place where we each have to take responsibility for where we are and make the effort to evolve. Healing takes grit. It takes the hard, messy, daily work of looking in the mirror and choosing to grow.

That’s what Hell on the Hill is all about. Fifty laps. Fifty opportunities to rest if you need to, ask for help if you need to—but never quit. It’s not just a physical challenge. It’s a metaphor for life, for mental health, for the battles we carry that no one else sees.

The Climb Together

This month, and every month, let’s choose to speak instead of staying silent. Let’s choose to show up for each other. Let’s choose to keep climbing, even when the hill feels endless.

Because you are not alone. You matter. And together, step by step, we can break the silence and create a world where caring for our minds is as normal—and as necessary—as caring for our bodies.