As I stood on the start line of that first climb, I was so full of adrenaline. I was experiencing a wildly misplaced overconfidence! I was so full of adrenaline. I thought, 'I can climb this thing, I don't know why I had any trepidation.' I was so ready for it because the starting line's energy is so contagious. Jesse's energy is so infectious. There was a feeling that we could do anything we wanted at that moment, including climbing this mountain. It's a feeling that stayed with me for, oh, about 6 minutes! The first part of the ascent is so steep, and very quickly, I go from hyper-confidence to not knowing if I can actually do this.
During my second ascent, I was really inside of my head, wondering if this was a thing that I could actually achieve. I've realized something strange about my wiring, and I recall thinking, 'If I wasn't going to make it to 13, did it matter if I made it to 10?' I'm a person who's trying to coach people to push themselves as far as they possibly can and exploiting all of their gifts. And yet here I was, wondering if I finish at eight, is it the same as finishing at 10 or finishing at 11?
We start walking with a couple, Colin and Jenna, during the second ascent. I had no idea who they were. We got in the gondola and headed down, and I said, "Hey, what is your name again?" It was Colin O'Brady. And he humbly shared that he'd just pulled a sled across Antarctica. Crazily, it was like a God moment for me. I saw that he's made of the same skin I am. I'm taller than he is. I've got a little more meat on my bones than he does… And here, he's just pulled a sled across a continent. Why, then, if he and I are made of the same thing, couldn't I muster something to continue to do a thing that he's now doing and climb this mountain? So in those 12 minutes inside the gondola, it became clear that his humanity could be something that I could borrow and it allowed me an attempt to tap into the strength of my own humanity.
The decision was made - just turn right and head right back up the mountain until I couldn't do so anymore.