Stop on over at the Challenge21 blog if you're interested in my take on the trip, what really matters to me in climbing, and why this was the first expedition in my 25+ years of climbing to really make me proud.
And, why would we put ourselves through the hardship and risk to experience it?
In my 25+ years of climbing, these are questions I've asked myself nearly every day. They've nagged in my head, poking at my psyche from the gentle slopes of the White Mountains to the jagged summits of the Himalaya. And, I still haven't even come close to an answer.
Judging the films at the 5Point Film Festival two weeks ago got me a bit closer.
As my fellow jurors - Kent Harvey, Cici Kinney, and Lauren Cerre - and I wrangled about which most captured the spirit of adventure, I had ample time to think about what it all means to me.
My answer to what adventure is? Well, it's relative. To some, adventure might mean free-basing the North Face of the Eiger, as shown in Fly Or Die. For others, like Ueli Steck in The Swiss Machine, adventure might be setting a speed record on the same historic face. Others, like Cory Richards and his teammates Simone Moro and Denis Urubko in Cold, find adventure in going to one of the highest peaks in the world at the coldest time of year...and asking the tough, probing, uncomfortable questions such a trip raises.
And, for others, adventure might best be found in what many would consider mundane: a young girl in a headscarf rolling down a street in war-torn Kabul, Afghanistan, on a skateboard, as shown in Skateistan.
So, adventure is relative to the person involved in it. Adventure for some may be reckless abandon to others, and the quaint and mundane for some represents the ultimate for others.
But, at its core, I think it's safe to say this: Adventure is the willing, deliberate acceptance of risk, not to taunt death, but to embrace life. To ensure, as Henry David Thoreau once said, that we don't come to the time of our deaths and find that we never fully lived. Adventure is to accept risk so we can discover the fullness of life, and our place in it.
So, what did we decide at 5Point? It was a tough one, with much debate, but we finally decided that Cold best captured the Spirit of Adventure of all the films at this year's 5Point Festival.
Watch the trailer of Cold below, and also be sure to check our the very-close runner up, Skateistan.
And, feel free to comment below: What do you think adventure is? I'd love to hear!
He's a bit of an odd duck, that Garrison Keillor...but one possessed with an impressive amount of odd wisdom.
I generally catch bits and pieces of Prairie Home Companion on the weekends, but always try to make time to hear "The News from Lake Wobegon" as it rarely fails to make me laugh, and often succeeds in either inspiring or forcing me to rethink and look at life and the world in a new light, with a different perspective.
A few weeks back, I heard "The News" while doing some yard work, and wanted to blog about it immediately. But, with the launch of Challenge21, time got away from me.
So, much later - but no less poignant, I hope - is a bit from Garrison Keillor's "New from Lake Wobegon" from April 2, 2011. In the piece, Garrison is speaking about Lent, and it's meaning. While I don't observe Lent per se, his thoughts and ideas did resonate with me regarding the question of why we do things that are tough, that challenge us, push us, and at times, perhaps, torment us? Because, in an indescribable way, they teach us.
It is often only through hardship, through challenge, risk, success...and failure...that we truly learn about our abilities and our inabilities. If we forever shy away from hardship and risk, from the hope of great success and the chance of great failure, then the question of our ability to reach great heights will always be an open one.
And, as Garrison aptly points out below, it is the process of risk - a process which often leads to ultimate failure - that gives us joy. And, in the words of George Mallory: "Joy is, after all, the end of life."
So, to Garrison, for some words of wisdom:
Life is unfair. Things we expect to happen don't. And, other things do.
A man spends $1000 on an expensive bow to go out deer hunting and he buys new gear and he soaks it in deer urine so deer won't smell male smell, and he buys a little mountain tent and he goes out into the woods for three days looking for deer and he never even gets a good shot. And he comes home and his wife has hit a deer with her car...
A man goes spear fishing - he thinks this is going to be fun - and he goes out spear fishing for sturgeon. Nobody likes sturgeon, the taste of sturgeon is awful. But he spends all this time, all this money, to spear a sturgeon. And then you've got to smoke it...that's the only way you can eat sturgeon. So, what are you tasting? You're tasting smoke, you're not tasting the fish. Meanwhile, you can go down to your store, and you can buy salmon, and you can bring that back, and put it out on the grill: 5 minutes on one side, 3 minutes on the other, drizzle it with olive oil...it's beautiful. You don't need to know anything about cooking to make beautiful salmon steak. A little pink in the middle, serve it up with a little dry white wine, it's gorgeous.
But, the irony, the Christian irony, is that the man who goes deer hunting and does not get a deer, the man who goes spearing for sturgeon and gets one and doesn't like it...they are blessed, in a mysterious way that is hard to explain...but worth trying for yourself.
In defeat, in failure, in suffering, is joy. That's the irony of Lent.
And, once you've learned that...maybe you're ready to die.
If you'd like to listen to Garrison's words - and I recommend you do - please check out the mp3 below. Listen to the whole thing, or skip ahead to 11:10 to hear just the part I transcribed above.
It's a common thought I have, and one that revisited me just two days ago while enduring frigid temperatures and nuking winds with Charley Mace and Chris Warner en route to Mount Bancroft. It was pretty awful - frozen fingers and noses constantly peppered with ice crystals moving at 40 mph. But, at the same time, it was exactly where I wanted to be...where I needed to be.
How can something so miserable be so enticing, so welcomed, so absolutely necessary?
Because it gives us perspective. Challenge, adversity, at times misery, all help remind us of how good life can be. As the old saying goes: That which does not kill us makes us strong.
I find this perspective-through-suffering most often in the mountains, in those high, solitary places which push me to my limits mentally, physically, and emotionally. But, I also find them on my travels...travels to distant lands to visit with different peoples and cultures. Equally challenging, these travels provide me with perspective I might not gain in everyday experience in Golden, Colorado.
The challenges of the hills, and the discomforts of travel, all result in giving me a new outlook on the trials and tribulations of daily life, and a new outlook on my interactions with others:
A blast of snow in the face on a cold day makes me appreciate the furnace in my house that much more.
My exhaustion-racked body after a hard day in the hills makes my homemade bed that much more comfortable.
A near death experience - averted only by a 9mm rope - makes me value every moment of life.
A conversation, a smile, a simple interaction shared with someone from a different culture with a different language in a different place helps me realize that "as different as we are, we’re still the same".
So, for today's Thursday Thought, a few quotations on perspective gained from adversity, travel, and climbing...Enjoy!
Like the desire for drink or drugs, the craving for mountains is not easily overcome, but a mountaineering debauch, such as six months in the Himalaya, is followed by no remorse. Should such a feeling arise then one may echo Omar's cri de coeur:
Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore - but was I sober when I swore?
Having once tasted the pleasure of living in high solitary places with a few like spirits, European or Sherpa, I could not give it up. The prospect of what is euphemistically termed "settling down", like mud to the bottom of a pond, might perhaps be faced when it became inevitable, but not yet awhile. Time enough for that when the hardships common to mountain travel - the carrying of heavy loads, the early morning starts, living or starving in the country - were no longer courted or at any rate suffered gladly. - H.W. Tilman, When Men & Mountains Meet
And so what is the final test of the efficacy of this wilderness experience we've just been through together? Because having been there, in the mountains, alone, in the midst of solitude, and this feeling, this mystical feeling if you will, of the ultimacy of joy and whatever there is. The question is, "Why not stay out there in the wilderness the rest of your days and just live in the lap of Satori or whatever you want to call it?" And the answer, my answer to that is, "Because that's not where people are." And the final test for me of the legitimacy of the experience is, "How well does your experience of the sacred in nature enable you to cope more effectively with the problems of mankind when you come back to the city?"
And now you see how this phases with the role of wilderness, It's a renewal exercise and as I visualize it, it leads to a process of alternation. You go to nature for your metaphysical fix - your reassurance that there's something behind it all and it's good. You come back to where [people] are, to where [people] are messing things up, because [people] tend to, and you come back with a new ability to relate to your fellow [souls] and to help your fellow [souls] relate to each other. - Willi Unsoeld
Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime. - Mark Twain, Innocents Abroad
Good judgment comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgment. - Evan Hardin
I have not lost the magic of long days: I live them, dream them still. Still I am master of the starry ways, and freeman of the hill. Shattered my glass, ere half the sands had run, -I hold the heights, I hold the heights I won.
Mine still the hope that hailed me from each height, mine the unresting flame. With dreams I charmed each doing to delight; I charm my rest the same. Severed my skein, ere half the strands were spun, -I keep the dreams, I keep the dreams I won.
What if I live no more those kingly days? their night sleeps with me still. I dream my feet upon the starry ways; my heart rests in the hill. I may not grudge the little left undone; I hold the heights, I keep the dreams I won. - Geoffrey Winthrop Young
Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white. - Mark Jenkins
News just came out this morning that Austrian speed climber Christian Stangl faked his August 12 summit of K2. His was the only supposed summit of the season on K2, and the initial report was one of amazing speed and tenacity. According to his report, Stangl blasted from ABC to Camp 3 on K2, and then proceeded from Camp 3 all the way to the summit.
According to the Mammut website, Stangl wrote of his actions on K2:
I suppose that I came to this from a mixture between fear of death and even greater fear of failure. Achievement and success were and are the determining factors in my sport. I think that I tried to suppress my personal failure after three summers and altogether seven attempts at this mountain. My sponsors did not pressure me into doing this. This pressure came from inside me. Fear of death is bad enough, but the fear of the failure in an achievement-oriented society is worse.
Fear of failure...What is failure? This, I think, is at the heart of many of the ethical dilemmas we see not only in the high mountains, but in our world as a whole. As I said in my presentation in Aspen:
The problem here is one of short-sighted simplification. We have come, in climbing and in our society, to simplify objectives, to make success and failure black-and-white, rather than see them as the transient shades of grey they are. Our society tends to tell us that the summit is success, and anywhere else is failure. The journey means nothing, the pursuit worthless without planting one's flag on the top...While perhaps simple, this reading of success and failure leads ultimately to shallow, and potentially dangerous, decision-making, both on and off the hill. When all that matters is the summit, what will we be willing to sacrifice to get there?
I ended my program in Aspen the other night - as I always do with my Everest Ethics talk - by invoking the words of Charlie Houston. And, since Stangl's controversy took place on K2, where Charlie was writing about in this passage, it's fitting to share them again here. Simple, eloquent, and profound, Houston's words are no less relevant today than they were when he penned them in 1953, and speak volumes about the true nature of success, failure, and why we climb:
Why climb mountains? The answer cannot be simple. It is compounded of such elements as the great beauty of clear, cold air, of colors beyond the ordinary, of the lure of unknown regions beyond the rim of experience. The pleasure of physical fitness, the pride of conquering a steep and difficult rock, the thrill of danger controlled by skill…How can I phrase what seems to me the most important reason of all? It is the chance to be briefly free of the small concerns of our common lives, to strip off non-essentials, to come down to the core of life itself. On great mountains, all purpose is concentrated on the single job at hand. Yet the summit is but a token of success. And the attempt is worthy in itself. It is for these reasons that we climb. And in climbing, we find something greater than accomplishment.
This is an important topic, so please discuss it below if you want. What do you think about Stangl's actions, and his defense? What about the concepts of success and failure in general?
My wife and I often talk about how fortunate we feel to have careers that are built upon our passions. As the cliche goes, do what you love and you'll never work another day in your life.
Certainly, Wende and I are fortunate. We were able to make our passions our vocations, and create the lives we wanted to lead. I also know that is not possible for everyone. But, having passion is not only possible in everyone's life, but, I would argue, it is essential. Our passion is the essential fuel which drives us forward in our lives, and helps ensure that we don't, as Henry David Thoreau once said, come to the time of our deaths and find that we never fully lived.
So, for today's Thursday Thought, some of my favorite quotes about finding that passion, that burning flame, inside yourself, whether it be your vocation, your hobby, your family, or whatever. Find it, and let it drive your life forward.
A man without a purpose is like a ship without a rudder. - Thomas Carlyle
Enthusiasm is one of the most powerful engines of success. When you do a thing, do it with all your might. Put your whole soul into it. Stamp it with your own personality. Be active, be energetic and faithful, and you will accomplish your object. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm. - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Without work, all life goes rotten. But when work is soulless, life stifles and dies. - Albert Camus
Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb. You may never reach the summit; for that you will be forgiven. But if you don’t make at least one serious attempt to get above the snow-line, years later you will find yourself lying on your deathbed, and all you will feel is emptiness. - Huch Macleod
Every man is proud of what he does well; and no man is proud of what he does not do well. With the former, his heart is in his work; and he will do twice as much of it with less fatigue. The latter performs a little imperfectly, looks at it in disgust, turns from it, and imagines himself exceedingly tired. The little he has done, comes to nothing, for want of finishing. - Abraham Lincoln
Those who do not create the future they want must endure the future they get.
- Draper L. Kaufman, Jr.
The biggest mistake people make in life is not trying to make a living at doing what they most enjoy. - Malcolm S. Forbes
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!
Back in February, I wrote a Thursday Thought about ego...and the need to not have one in life. In it I shared some thoughts from one of my climbing heroes (and friends), Tom Hornbein.
As many of you know, I spent this weekend with an incredible group of athletes at the Outside in Aspen event in Aspen, Colorado. Aside from the depth and diversity of accomplishments in the group, what I found most impressive was the level of humility and the marked absence of ego amongst the crew.
On Sunday, we all shared a panel discussion: kayaker Jesse Coombs, cyclist Tyler Hamilton, climber Melissa Arnot, skier Chris Davenport, and myself. (Also present, but not on the panel, was kayaker Chris Korbulic.) Not once did anyone proclaim "I'm the best" or show any degree of arrogance about their successes, and failures, in life. Rather, the common theme was that each person followed their passion in life, and that, combined with a lot of hard work and tenacity, led to a high level of success...not to mention a lot of fun along the way.
Because of that humility, I really enjoyed sharing the panel discussion, and the weekend, with this group, and I think the audience and visitors to Outside in Aspen did, too.
Especially impressive during the panel was Jesse Coombs comments on how to approach all we do in life. He kept stressing the need to "do the right things for the right reasons." Advice we all could and should apply to our lives, personal and professional.
And, Jesse is no run-of-the-mill kayaker; he's one of the most accomplished in the world, with a list of first-descents that to this hydro-challenged person reads like my worst nightmare. But, you won't get that out of him easily; he'll downplay his accomplishments while simultaneously noting yours and complimenting you. Solid characteristics from a solid guy.
So, here's a little video that shows some of the huge accomplishments of Jesse Coombs and his team of expedition kayakers. Amazing stuff...enjoy Hotel Charley V:
Brushing it all off and going out the next day for more.
Those are many of the memories of my childhood.
We played, and played hard. We experienced, and enjoyed, nature, despite the inevitable bumps, bruises, and scrapes that came with the territory.
Being outside was not a privilege or a punishment, but just an integral part of life; it's what we did.
And, looking back, it was that early, long term exposure to nature which helped define who I am today. Playing in the natural world gave me a deep respect for its beauty, power, and magic. It also taught me how to be self-reliant: if I climbed a tree, I better be careful, as no one would be there to pick me up and kiss the bumps when I fell.
The natural world taught me also to not take myself too seriously: it reminded me, even as a little kid, that I am but one, tiny, tiny cog in a very big piece of machinery. And, it of course taught me to enjoy using my body, to revel in physical activity and all it offered.
As William Wordsworth wrote, I "let nature be my teacher". And a good teacher it was.
Sadly, though, it seems to me that a nefarious brew of risk aversion, liability & litigation, and urban sprawl have changed the way kids today experience and interact with nature...if they do so at all.
And that scares me. It scares me deeply, not simply because the lack of venturing outdoors - even to a local park - is creating a generation of dangerously obese children and adults, but also because I believe interaction with the natural world creates stronger people who respect our world and all who inhabit it. And, as the father of 2 children, I want them to grow up with a connection to, and love for, the natural world.
Below are a melange of quotes - enjoy! And, remember to get yourself, and your kids and friends, outside on Saturday, June 12th, for National Get Outdoors Day!
What do parents owe their young that is more important than a warm and trusting connection to the Earth…? - Theodore Roszak, The Voice of the Earth
Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours, Nature, lying all around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man. - Henry David Thoreau
I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in tune once more. - John Burroughs
Man’s heart, away from nature, becomes hard; [the Lakota] knew that lack of respect for growing, living things soon led to lack of respect for humans too. - Luther Standing Bear
I am well again, I came to life in the cool winds and crystal waters of the mountains… - John Muir
Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter. - Rachel Carson
Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life. - John Muir
If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen. - Henry David Thoreau
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn. - John Muir
The woods were my Ritalin. Nature calmed me, focused me, and yet excited my senses. - Richard Louv
For those of you interested in more of what Richard Louv has to say about "Nature Deficit Disorder" and the need to get kids outside, listen to the interview below of Louv from ABC News, Brisbane:
I was honored beyond words that the students of The Bosque School in Albuquerque, New Mexico, not only remembered by presentation to them back in February, 2006, but also enjoyed it enough to ask me to speak at their commencement ceremony last night.
It was not only an honor, but also a lot of fun, and exciting to see these energetic, young people moving from one phase of life to the next, commencing this new and intriguing chapter of life. And, it was great to hear after the ceremony that they enjoyed my brief, 20 minute speech about the wisdom I've gleaned from the mountains over the years.
Many of them shared their dream summits with me afterward: playing professional soccer, returning as an MD to work on the nearby Navajo Reservation, and even some who hoped to one day be professional climbers. (I strongly advised them against that!)
The four key points of last night's commencement speech are still in my head, resonating with me as I hope they are with the newly-graduated Bosque Class of 2010:
Dream...and dream big
Get a helmet...it's a bumpy road ahead
Don't take life too seriously...it's not
And, keep your humanity...a box of pears and a hug means a lot more than summits and certificates
Thus, I thought for this Thursday Thought (I know, it's Friday, but I was a bit busy yesterday!) I'd share with you what I said to the students, faculty, Board of Trustees, and parents of The Bosque School for their 2010 commencement. It's a bit long, so I've uploaded the full speech as a PDF file.
I'm often asked if having children - I now have two - has changed my climbing in any way. And, I think it is often assumed that I either (a) no longer climb or (b) have deeply limited my climbing.
The answer is no on both accounts. For starters, I have always been a conservative climber, most likely as a result of my guiding background. I've never considered dying in the mountains as an option, even though I know logically that it is indeed a possibility. Nonetheless, I always approach my climbs and expeditions with a conservative attitude and the essential perspective that the mountain will be here another day...the important thing is that I will be here to climb it another day.
While I have no desire or intention of ever dying in the mountains (Jim Whittaker once famously wrote: If you're ever killed mountain climbing, then all that you've worked for is gone.), I do know it is always a lurking possibility. Risk is as ever-present in the hills as rain, wind, and snow. But, risk is ever-present in our lives as a whole. I truly believe I have an equal chance of losing my life while driving on Interstate 25 in Denver as I do while climbing the high peaks. And, while I again do not want my life to end in the mountains, I guess I'd prefer that to becoming a good ornament on a semi while driving to the mall.
At any rate, what I'm getting at is that having children has not made me take more or less risk in my life, but rather to be sure I continue living my life, and living it fully. My kids have made me more certain than ever that I must pursue that in life which pushes me, enthralls me, and gives me the inspiration and passion to do more, to live more, to experience more. As William Arthur Ward wrote in To Risk:
To laugh is to risk appearing a fool, To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach out to another is to risk involvement, To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self. To place your ideas and dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss. To love is to risk not being loved in return, To live is to risk dying, To hope is to risk despair, To try is to risk failure. But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing. He may avoid suffering and sorrow, But he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or live. Chained by his servitude he is a slave who has forfeited all freedom. Only a person who risks is free. The pessimist complains about the wind; The optimist expects it to change; And the realist adjusts the sails.
If I pass on anything to my children, I want to pass on to them the knowledge that life is to be lived, embraced, and loved. That they should pursue their passions, and live with compassion. That they should be intriguing and intrigued. That they should maintain a sense of adventure and wonder in all that they do. And, that risk is inherent in living a full and true life.
So, today's Thursday Thought touches on what I want to show and pass on to my children. I hope I will have many more years to do so...The Mountaineer's Will by Paul S. Williams:
Having disposed of my material possessions, I now turn to those items I hold in great esteem but which are without material value in this life. To all of my children I leave the most important things of my life: The sparkle of sunlight on the snow in the cool sunlight of the early morning after a new snowfall, the blue of ice in a serac poised against the blue sky, the clean firm grip of good rock, the music of a tiny stream in an alpine meadow, the smell of heather in bloom, the graceful tilted head of an avalanche lily, the clink of pitons and carabiners, singing of a primus in darkness at high camp, the flicker of flashlights in the pre-dawn climb, and the indescribable beauty of an Alpine dawn from high on a mountain. The feel of comradeship as the team moves swiftly up the face, the moments when fingers of fear clench at your insides on exposure, and perhaps moments of terror, the knowledge that life and death are sure, swift, and true.
But above all, I leave to you my beloved children, those few short moments of attainment and peace on the summit, secure in the knowledge that you have conquered not the mountain so much as yourself. Those few moments in the sunlight you share with God, who has written his signature all about you as you sit in the magnificent cathedral in the sky created by God, for God, and which we mortals share but a brief time. Where you must accept the ultimate truth that we have but one end to our short life, before you descend again the burdens of the world, to shoulder the cross of responsibility to the family.
I know not whether or not you, my children, will follow in my steps to the Alpine world, and yet, knowing all too vividly the mountain dangers, I also fear that you will. But whether you go to the high places or view them from afar off as the sunset paints a crimson glory across and as the light slips from the mountain meadow, remember the restless spirit of your father amid the moss and heather seeking ever his eternal rest with God.
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!