Here your story ends as the climber of Mount Everest.

You began your journey from Base Camp 3. You had no mountain sickness, just a mild headache. At midnight, you and your group of 16 — plus the Sherpas — started the ascent.

After three hours, the weather remained perfect. You were breathing from your oxygen canister and struggling to move your muscles. One step at a time: rest, breathe, another step. Survival depended on one thing: the next step. You raised your head. A bright star shone just above the summit. You smiled and took the next step. A voice echoed in your mind: one small step for one man. You remembered when man first walked on the Moon: one giant leap for mankind. Completing the sentence, your smile grew wider. Despite aching muscles, you felt a floating euphoria. For a moment, fear appeared. Perhaps it was high-altitude cerebral edema. You checked your symptoms. It was not. Your joy was grounded in reality.

With each step, you repeated the sentence. After three more hours, exhausted, you became the first in your group to reach the summit at dawn. The sky above was deep blue. Below, clouds rested at the Himalayas’ feet. A giant triangular shadow of Everest projected over them.

The rest of the team arrived minutes later. The group took pictures and celebrated. The landscapes of that sunny day were exceptional. From the top, you could see all three faces of the mountain simultaneously. That view would remain in your memory forever. Your euphoria was calm and intense. You felt proud; your smile frozen in joy. No headaches, no nausea, just the view and that lasting smile.