Everest, postponed - and why the dream isn't over

I have climbed five of the seven summits. Aconcagua, Denali, Kilimanjaro, Elbrus, Kosciuszko. Everest was meant to be the sixth, and the one I have wanted longest. I was five when I first traced the highest point on each continent across my grandparents' globe, not understanding what could be so hard about the tallest one.

This spring I was ready to find out. A place on a Nepal-side expedition, departure set for 10 April, up to fifty days blocked out. Through the winter I had trained twelve to eighteen hours a week and slept in a hypoxic tent at home, a watch waking me through the night as if I were already at 5,000 metres. Three days before I was due to fly, I called it off.

Not training. Not motivation. A heart rhythm issue that needed medical attention. I went through every option with five cardiologists, and the risk of not coming back was too high. At 500 metres it is nothing serious. At 8,000 it is a different story.

I have always said that if something is not right, you turn around. I just never expected to do it at 500 metres, at home, before the mountain instead of on it. It was not the outcome I planned. It was the right call, and it taught me I love life more than any summit.

Everest is an old dream, not a goal at any cost. The mountain will still be there. It stays on the list, and so do the last two summits after it.

How hard can it be? Hard enough to wait.

I am sharing the whole road to Everest, the training, the turn-around, and the next attempt. Follow along.