Five lessons a mountain that kicked my ass taught me.

It all seemed doable when walking up to it. 400m of elevation only left? A few hour climb? Can’t be that bad. I guess it is not if you are a mountaineer, but I was not.
I remember gasping for breath, the sudden gusts of wind with small particles of ice shaving away at my face like a thousand little sickles. The shouts of our guide to keep going, seemed to get swept away into the winds far before they reached my heart.
My legs were still there, but they’d stopped taking commands a long time ago. I was somehow trying to boot them back online for every single step I took, and there were plenty of steps left.
I had no choice though but to keep putting one foot after the other, as I was tied with rope to my friends, led by a fierce, ruthless man of the mountains, whose job was to get us up and down that mountain somehow in one piece. A job that seemed an impossibility at times, no matter how much he spurred us on and yelled strength into our dying muscles.
There I was, drowning on a mountain, getting beaten up by wind and ice, a relatively fit, capable man in his thirties, absolutely broken and hanging on by a thread.
Disoriented, I remember as I tried to just focus on lifting my feet in front of the other, the small path no wider than a two-by-four. Lifting my eyes from the path to see how far I still need to go I suddenly got dizzy, misjudged a step and near a 200m drop, started to fall back, just before my friend in the front grabbed my rope and pulled me back into balance.
“Focus. Walk.” My guide said, but easier said than done.
I watched as some snow rolled off of the edge where I’d almost fallen and disappeared past the windswept cliff that dove into hundreds of meters of tumbles to doom.
I was a wreck, and all I remember about that day amidst the beautiful pictures we got at the top was a feeling of just trying to get through it, trying to figure out how on earth I got myself into this mess.
The way up was hard, and not the kind of hard you feel at the gym failing at your last reps, but the kind of hard when you’re five sets past those last reps with the hand of death on your mouth, gasping for air, your muscles failing underneath you at every effort.
On the way down we were more relaxed, but what lacked in effort of body needed an even greater effort of mind. One step wrong and you were sent tumbling to possible death. Lose your focus, lose your life.
Even worse was the last stretch of glacier land where the snow had just started to melt and gave away on each step, demoralizing you completely as you fought just to make it back to the lifts to the base station, somehow trying to keep up with the group ahead.
We descended and then came the headache, the nausea, the weird rhythms of your heart, and the feeling like your body was failing on you, every heartbeat fighting to keep up with your low oxygen levels.
Once you added slurred speech and balance and vision problems, we got dangerously close to High-Altitude-Stroke, which could lead to lifelong sickness, paralysis and even death.
I was a mess. A wreck. A mountain conqueror but a failed man.
That was the day when a mountain that kicked my ass gave me life lessons I’ll never forget.
Lesson 1: Respect the Mountain.
That title picture above is one taken by me at the only 4000+ meter summit I’ve ever been to. 4164m to be exact, and even though I made it up there, it could have killed me.
I’d just been on a gorgeous five day Grand Tour through the Italian and Swiss alps filming a promotional for two clients of mine, Olympus Cameras and Porsche.
We’d had good times, conquered breathtaking alpine passes and were as confident as ever that all in the universe was on our side.

Me not really knowing anything about mountains thought that it would make for a great story for me and my four comrades to race through the alps in order to finish off our magnificent voyage at a peak extending 4000m, filming 4K at 4K. Get it?
As in this case as well, much of the wisdom we gather in life come from our mistakes and inability to perceive the obstacles ahead.
For some reason I had felt it to be a great idea to choose a proper mountain as my obstacle, with no real mountaineering experience, no proper training, and worst of all, no proper understanding of my task ahead.
My view of mountaineering was basically from Cliffhanger and a few magazines, not really the recipe for success.
In short, I did not respect the mountain, and believed more in my innate physical talent than in the need for preparation and respect for the task ahead. I could do this. No problem. I was fit enough.
A wise person respects the mountain, takes time to observe it to understand its grandness and power, then finds respect for the task ahead.
Whatever your mountain in life is, you need to know that it is BIG and commands respect.
However almost every mountain has already been climbed by someone.

Lesson 2: Get a guide
If it were not for our guide, I’d probably be a bag of bones in a glacier. If you want to climb a mountain, find someone who’s done it before unless you want to be another fatality in the long list of prideful stupidity.
Mentors are one of the most important resources in your life. When you have the chance to watch someone work who’s already climbed the mountain you want to, the process becomes exponentially easier.
They will warn you of the dangers on the way and spur you on where it is needed, because they know that the top isn’t too far away. They’ve already been there.
Also, get ready to pay for your guide. Our mentors have most likely paid their price in failures by having gone into territory that was unknown to them. It’s cheaper to get pre-learned wisdom, than to try to fail yourself to the top on every single obstacle.
Guides aren’t always cheap, but when your life, health and ultimately success of your venture counts on it, it is worth every single penny.

Lesson 3: Climb high, sleep low.
You can’t just show up and walz to the top, no matter how talented you are.
Acclimatization is the process in which an individual organism adjusts to a change in it’s enviroment.
It is the foundation of mountaineering and life, and you cannot shortcut your way into getting used to the hostile enviroment you just entered, whatever it is. Otherwise your body or mind will be reacting to this change in a way you cannot control.
Pressed for time, we arrived at basecamp in the evening before climbing day. We went out and double checked our booking with our mountain guide, got our gear, had our nice dinner, drank our water and headed to bed at 2000m of altitude, ready to climb to over 4000m the next day.
Mistake number 2 that could have killed me.
Improper acclimatization caused altitude sickness in all of us, and almost brought two of us to high altitude stroke, which could have led to death.
This is the lesson that stuck with me:
Acclimatize yourself with your fears, with the task ahead, with what you need to do to achieve your goals.
What this means for me is that when I know my mountain, I take hikes up to it slowly, return to my safe place to gather myself, and slowly get used to the hostility and unfamiliarity of the enviroment to avoid shock and reactionary thinking.
For me if my mountain is writing and sharing knowledge, my acclimatization is to first share these pieces with one person, then return home to my loved ones and go through the feedback in a safe place.
Then I share it with a larger group, then a larger one, until my mind is more used to the impact of feedback.
If I would throw my work into a place where thousands of people suddenly have their opinion on it, my psyche would not be able to handle the load and I would most likely find myself either depressed or anxious.
Acclimatize yourself with whatever you need to conquer. If it is public speaking, take a turn at the dinner table to say something meaningful. Then offer to hold a small inspirational at your companys monday creative meeting. Join a poetry recital, talk to a camera.
If it is getting healthier, don’t jump into 100 day diet and a religious olympic lifting regime without ever having worked out. You’ll injure yourself and go binge-eating on junk food. Rather take your time, create habits, and stack up the odds in your favor until it is impossible for you to fail.
Take in one bit at a time and you’ll both make it up your mountain, and live to tell the tale.

Lesson 4: The higher you go, the harder the climb. Exponentially.
The same 200 meters starting at the bottom vs. the one’s to the top cannot be compared.
They say that competition is always toughest at the top, and that is 100% true.
Getting to a good level of knowledge or skill in a subject actually is not that difficult in the end, but becoming a master at a craft is a whole other thing. You need to be prepared to spend the same amount of energy and effort for the last 20% of the climb as you spent for the previous 80%
Don’t be afraid of the last bit though, as most people give up at this point. The market is saturated with good and mediocre, there’s room at the top.
When you make it up there, you’ll have less competition in a less crowded market.

Lesson 5: You cannot do it alone.
Without comrades to spur me on, to pull my rope, or to help carry the load of all the camera equipment we had, we would have not been successful in our mission.
Company and friends is one of the least valued diamonds in business. They say never do business with friends, but when you make your business partners friends, comrades and allies, you can withstand greater distresses, pull together when needed and carry each other through the tough times.
It is not a matter of if, but when things get tough, the company with greater spirit and comradely will come out the winner.

One last thing
Always remember to enjoy the view.
Life is meant to be enjoyed, and the ability to take in, value and remember success is absolutely necessary to be able to stay committed to your dreams and goals.
Enjoy those views, take a few deep breaths, scale the horizons, and likely you will see a new mountain to conquer.
Then go get it.

