As I took my first steps away from Uhuru Peak and began my descent, the summit sign at my back, I wanted to freeze time and somehow fit every ounce of this experience, this summit, in all its glory and beauty, inside a jar, bottled up to take with me forever. I wanted to bottle it up and have the ability to open it whenever I felt like revisiting this heaven on Earth, this incredibly peaceful and calm place where all time stops, everyone just is, and freedom lives. I wished for the ability to do this and be right back on top of the world. I felt grateful and took comfort in knowing that I would be able to do that in my own way, in my mind, through memories and photographs and endless shared stories.

With each step I took, I felt a subtle sense of urgency, like I needed to go before the altitude got the best of me. And at the same time, I felt an overwhelming need to walk ever so slowly, my body and mind almost resisting the descent, wanting to hold onto this very place and time. But what goes up must come down, and so I continued to put one foot in front of the other.

With each step I told myself, it’s all downhill from here. The hard work is complete. Soak it ALL up. Take it ALL in. And I celebrated.

I celebrated myself. I celebrated my team. I celebrated our village that had been built back home full of each of YOU supporting this experience and my journey. And I smiled so freakin big.

From Uhuru Peak to Stella Point I walked alone. It just happened that way and I was grateful. I needed that time to begin to process that everything I had been working for, everything WE had been working for, had just happened and I needed that time to begin to accept that this epic adventure would soon come to an end.

The sun was shining brightly and the temperatures had sharply risen since our last stop at Stella Point. As I arrived and met up with the rest of the team, we all took a few minutes to shed several layers knowing that the more we descended, the warmer it would get. The guides also told us that if we wanted our spikes, now would be a good time to put them on.

As I looked ahead at the winding downhill trail laid out before us, I couldn’t believe that the blizzard of snow that had fallen overnight was already almost entirely melted. I thought to myself, was it all a dream? There had been nothing but freshly fallen snow just a few hours before and now only traces remained. Instead, the trail was now covered in small, loose piles of rock, like pebbles and so I declined my spikes because what would they do for me in these conditions anyway? My only experience prior having been to use them for ice.

Zach and Daryl stayed behind to rest a bit more before continuing down and as myself, Colin, Vinti, Christina, and Jeff continued on, with Frederik as our guide, I quickly regretted not putting on my spikes. We were sliding every which way, joking about how maybe it would be easier to just sit on our asses and slide down the mountain! With each step, my boots sunk down deep into the pebbles, like quick sand, and my feet began to slide down the mountainside, making the descent faster than I could have ever imagined. At one point someone lost their balance and took a fall followed by a good slide down the trail, and then happened to stop right next to the perfect rock to take a break on, and so there they sat, taking a short break, and we all gladly followed suit. While the team rested, I took the opportunity to grab my spikes from my pack and slide them on over my boots. As we began again, I was so glad to have them on as they provided me the perfect amount of traction to avoid excessively slipping and falling for the remainder of our descent.

Descending from the summit of Kilimanjaro is like half walking, half sliding down the side of the steepest decline you might ever met. My knees were angry. My body and mind were tired. I was covered in sweat and I was feeling the urge to rush. The urge to just get back to base camp and rest. The urge to cease all movement and let my body take a break. And so I reminded myself to slow down. I reminded myself that this descent was part of my journey, just like the days leading up to the summit had been. I needed to and wanted to remain present as I had done thus far. I knew that taking this descent one step at a time would allow me to see all of the beauty and all of the magic that lie ahead on the trail.

Just over two hours into our descent, as we came down a giant hill and turned the corner, I spied what I thought were other climbers resting. As we got closer, I realized they weren’t climbers, but a small group of porters from our crew. I yelled “Jambo” and they yelled “Jambo” back. They walked toward us, smiles on their faces, amd congratulated us on our summit. It was simply awesome to see their faces, to know that they had been waiting there to receive us. It lit me up and I found myself overwhelmed with joy! And then, as quickly as they appeared, these angels on Earth took our packs from our backs and slid them onto their own. They would carry our packs for the remainder of our descent to base camp, another 45 minutes.

What a massive gift to receive.

Getting to remove my pack, not for a short break, but for the remainder of our descent to base camp that morning was the absolute best fucking feeling in the world! Dropping that weight and giving my body added freedom and flexibility felt simply amazing! It was just me and my trekking poles and I felt light as air!

I learned that the porter who took my pack was named Frederick Eugene and that he was from Tanzania. I hugged him right and asked if we could take a picture together. I was so grateful for him! I decided right then and there that I would tip him extra at the end of our trip for his generosity and help. It was the only thing I knew to do to pay him back in some way for the gift he had given me that morning.

It took us eight and a half hours to summit Mount Kilimanjaro and it took us just three hours to descend back to base camp. Eight and a half hours of my body getting continuously less and less oxygen as we ascended into the elements, in a blizzard, in the dark. Eight and a half hours of pushing my body and mind to go higher and higher and higher...and just three measly hours to slip and slide back down in the sunshine, each breath becoming easier with every inch that we descended.

When we finally made it back to base camp, everyone immediately bee lined for their tents longing for rest. As I fell into my tent, I didn’t dare lay down right away. My mind was still racing from the entire experience and so, despite knowing my body needed rest, I continued on to organize myself and my space. I took off my hiking boots and as I did, pebbles from the descent fell everywhere. I removed both layers of socks and freed my sweaty feet, letting them feel the cool breeze and breathe. I took off my outer layers that remained and I removed my wide brimmed sun hat. I guzzled down the rest of my water that remained in my Nalgene bottle followed by five Swedish Fish. My body would need to begin to recover and I wanted to jumpstart that process as soon as possible.

Next, I reorganized my day pack removing any trash from the summit adventure and any extra layers that I wouldn’t be needing for the rest of the day. I repacked my day pack and then my larger duffel bag. I wrote some quick notes in my phone about moments and memories that I wanted to capture for later and then I turned on my music and with everything organized and my mind beginning to settle, I laid my body down to rest.

Sweet Jesus...laying down never felt so good.

My body was wrecked and exhausted, but as I laid my head down on my fleece jacket made pillow I could feel myself begin to re-energize. My soul and my spirit and my heart were oh so full. The sunshine outside was warming my tent inside. I let myself soak that all in and I Iet my body begin to rest and heal.

Maybe an hour or so later as I was dozing off, I heard Zach arriving back to base camp, followed by Daryl, Augustine, and Wilfred. I yelled from my tent to welcome them and congratulate them and celebrate them. We had all made it up and back down to base camp and for that I was grateful. Shortly after their arrival, I heard the knock on my tent informing me that it was time for lunch.

I was ravenous, but as my body rose and I began to climb out of the tent, I longed to just go right back in, curl up in my sleeping bag, and fall asleep for hours on end. Unfortunately, that was not an option. After lunch, we would continue our descent, hiking for another four hours to Mweka Camp sitting at just over 10,000 feet. All in on this summit day we would hike nearly 15.5 hours, ascending over 4,000 feet from base camp to Uhuru Peak, and descending over 9,000 feet from Uhuru Peak to Mweka Camp for our final night of sleep on the mountain.

Talk about epic shit! I was reminded over and over that day that one never really knows what the body or mind is capable of until you’re in it...until you’re doing it...until you’ve done it.

As we sat together for lunch, we talked through the summit experience as best we could, but as I looked around the table, I felt comforted to know I was not alone. I could see each team member looking foggy, wondering what the hell had just happened, as I did the same. It all seemed so surreal. We knew what we had done, but we hadn’t processed any of it. We congratulated one another as we shared our stories. Our energy supply was below zero and our minds were overflowing with flash backs of our journey to the summit as we each worked to piece together the experience. The one thing we knew for sure was that today’s journey was not over yet. We needed to focus on refueling our bodies, and so we drank our tea and we ate.

The final descent for the day began just after lunch. We laced up our boots and strapped on our day packs once again and we put one foot in front of the other.

We descended another four miles over about four hours. Along the way, I counted 84 heart rocks. My spiritual team kept showing up for me over and over and over. In fact, they haven’t left my side since.

At one point, we came across these cart like things and wondered what the heck they could be for?!? Wilfred shared with us that they are used to bring people down the mountain if they are injured. The climber would be laid into the carry space amd transported down the mountain. Can you imagine? That would be one bumpy ride!

The four hour hike to Mweka Camp was driven by pure adrenaline. It seemed to go on forever and as we took our final steps and arrived, I felt my body give. I found my tent, dropped my pack, crawled inside, and laid there on the hard, rocky ground beneath me with nothing left to give. I became overwhelmed with emotion, perhaps from exhaustion or trying to take in all that had happened in the past 15.5 hours or perhaps because, as I laid there, I knew that tomorrow we would find ourselves back in the world, off of the mountain, and our journey would come to an end.

After an hour or so, a hot water basin was brought to my tent and I welcomed it with open arms. Layer by layer I removed my clothing and washed my body head to toe. I scrubbed my fingernails and my face. I took my hair elastic out and undid the braid that had been so tightly pulled against my head for what felt like days. I let my hair fall down and my head release. I covered my knees, lower back, and neck in Arnica gel in an effort to relieve some of the discomfort I was feeling. I found the only clean clothes that remained in my duffel and redressed, feeling fresh and clean and ready for the evening ahead.

The team gathered for our last dinner in the mess tent and as I tried to share my experience of the summit, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. Tears began to fall and I could barely express my thoughts. As I shared about how I had felt so close to heaven, the shear power of the entire journey hit me head on and in that moment, I realized it may take me a long time to fully process the experience and make sense of ALL the emotions and feelings it had brought to the surface for me. The team understood I think and Zach helped to segue the conversation. By the end of our dinner, we had reached two conclusions. First, that the journey to the summit was broken into dream like pieces for us all. And second, that this adventure had bonded us together like family for life.

Our health checks that evening had a completely different feel than any health check prior. As I slipped my finger into the pulse oximeter, I announced that whatever it said didn’t matter anymore. The pressure was off because we had fucking done it!!!

We headed to bed around 8 PM knowing that we would be awoken at 5 AM and need to be on the trail by 7 AM to head to the gates. I’ve never slept as good as I slept that night. I didn’t wake up at all and I’m pretty sure I didn’t move an inch once my head hit my make shift pillow.

At 5 AM, I was greeted in my tent with a hot cup of black coffee. As I sat up, I could feel my body slowly coming to life. I played some quiet music in my tent and I prayed to the Universe welcoming the brand new day ahead. This was it. Our final hike back to the gates where it had all begun.

As I exited my tent to head for breakfast, I gladly said goodbye to my tent. I had loved it for the time on the mountain, but was so ready for a hot shower and a real cozy bed!

Our final descent to the gates was beautiful. Christina and I spent time hiking together talking about life and love and family. We shared stories and shared our excitement for the safari that we would begin together the following day. We spoke about becoming ambassadors for Kilimanjaro and how we wanted everyone we knew back home to come and experience this magic that we had been gifted. Augustine even shared with us some tips on how to be a good guide to clients, including tips on how to get the perfect photos for them. Writing this now, I can hear his voice and see his huge smile with those two, deep dimples like I am back on that trail right next to him, breathing in the fresh air of the mountain.

As we arrived at the gates, Zach was greeted by his girlfriend Jenny and as they hugged and were so happy to see one another, I had a moment where I found myself wishing Paul was there too to hug and to hold and to continue my journey with. It made me feel excited at the thought of returning back home to him and my little loves, my family and my friends.

We all gathered at the final sign for photos as a team. I felt happy to be there. I felt sad to be there. Here we were, all together for the final time on this mountain, so much to celebrate, so many memories created, so many moments shared. And now what? I had given so much thought to the journey itself and somehow never broached the subject of “the end”.

Frederik informed us it was time to go and so we all slowly headed to the bus that was awaiting us and began the short drive to a small shopping area where we would sit outside for our celebratory lunch. And that is where, when I thought this adventure couldn’t possibly get any better, it did.

The outdoor area was lined with local art work and the shops were full of beautiful gifts and souvenirs and clothing, all the things you could imagine. I found the perfect gifts for my little loves, Paul, my parents, and a little something for myself too!

As I exited the shop and headed around the corner to our table for lunch, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was this a dream too? There was Sosten and Godlisten dressed in white chef coats and hats ready to serve us yet another home cooked, delicious meal. A long wooden table was beautifully set for us. There were bottles of wine, Kilimanjaro beer, and even a homemade cake!

We laughed and we celebrated and we reminisced as we shared our nest stories from the mountain. We drank beer and wine and ate amazing food together. It was the best way to end such an amazing experience!

After our meal, we were each given our official certificate of completion for reaching the summit and then, it was time to present the tip envelopes to each crew member. I gladly took the opportunity to do this for our team and so I stood in the front of our table and I thanked the crew. I thanked them for being the ones to carry us up the mountain. I reminded them that without them, none of this would have been possible. I let them know how grateful we all were for their presence and their support. And then, one by one, I read each crew members name and they came to the front where I handed them their tip envelope.

There were so many gifts that I received on this journey, but getting to see the happiness on each crew members face as they received their envelope may very well have been one of my most precious gifts. They smiled. They thanked us. They even danced and sang traditional songs for us after the tipping ceremony was complete and as they did, I felt my face begin to hurt from smiling so big myself. If ever I find myself in need of pure joy, I will transport back to those moments in my mind.

Shortly before heading back to the hotel, Wilfred gave a small speech that began with, “Love is not just a word. It is an action...”

As I sit here now thinking back on his words, tears are filling up in my eyes making it hard to see. Tears of happiness. Tears of gratitude. Tears of love.

In this one life we get to live, I choose love. Love for this life. Love for those around me. Love for adventure. Love for giving back. Love for the outdoors. Love for helping others rise. Love for those that help me rise. Love for the journey that is life.

To my village of supporters far and wide, to my team, to my guides and crew, to each of you reading this right now, KNOW THAT YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING.

In the very moment that you think you can not possibly take one more step, when your body is saying no and your mind is near agreeing, that is the very moment to keep going. That is the moment to dig deep inside yourself. THAT is the moment to take just one more step because you are undoubtedly close to absolute magnificence.

Dream huge.

Lead with love.

Never give up...

...Just keep moving forward.

I promise you, the experience and the view will always be worth it.