I often talk of mountaineering, and it's parallel to the business that I am building, but this is not such a post. I went in thinking it was a physical thing.
Somewhere around day four, that story fell apart.
A few things stayed with me.
1. You don't climb a mountain. You repeat a step. The size of it disappears the moment you stop looking up.
2. Pace is not slow. Pace is what finishes. The people who rushed paid for it a day later. Every single time.
3. Going up needs effort. Coming down needs control. I was not ready for how different those two feel. One rewards struggle. The other punishes carelessness.
4. You don't feel ready. You start anyway. Clarity comes a few days in, never before.
The weather did not care about any of our plans. Adaptability is not a nice word. Up there, it is the only word.
Watching my children reach 5,106 m, and then watching them come down with care, gave me a feeling I still cannot fully put into words. Somewhere between pride and quiet.
The summit lasted ten minutes. The walk is what stays. I thought I was going there for the mountain. The mountain had other plans.
What is the one place that changed something in you quietly, without you realizing it at the time?
PS: No matter how many pictures you take, you keep wanting to take more with that view.