There’s a moment, right before the final push, when everything inside starts screaming to stop. The summit is right there, 100 steps away, but those 100 steps stretch into 10,000. The pack on my back, a mere 6 kilos, swells into an unbearable 100. My mind turns against me, whispering all the reasons why this was a bad idea to begin with. Every time, the battle is the same. Every time, the answer is the same. Keep going. Not because someone is watching. Not because there’s applause waiting at the end. Not because of some grand meaning …