Moving from “If” to “How”
	            2:00 am, pitch black but for the twinkling headlamps.  Crampons on my boots, ice axe in my hand, inexorably tethered to a team of four.  I’m scrambling up the aptly named, Disappointment Cleaver, despair creeping into my consciousness.  This is where I learned the meaning of Commitment.   Though I’d trained hard and felt great on the climb the day before, I was laboring mightily in the higher altitude.   While we charged passed other rope teams, I felt as if I was barely hanging on, I’d never been so completely spent.  (What made me think this was a good way…	        
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