Going Downhill Ain't What You Think It Is

125: What got you here won't get you there.

Mount Everest stories fascinate me. Not in a maybe-I’ll-try-this-one-day kind of way. More like why-on-earth-do-people-do-this! I’ve read the books, watched the documentaries, and in my mind, I can almost imagine making the climb myself. 😂 (To be clear, absolutely never wanted to and never will.)

Here’s something I learned:

Climbing up gets all the glory. But going downhill? That’s where the real test begins.

(Of all the Mount Everest deaths that occurred above base camp between 1921 and 2006, 56% happened on the descent. Source.)

Descending from the summit is when you’re at your most exhausted, your oxygen supply running low, and your body barely holding it together. You may be suffering from altitude sickness, frostbite, or other issues you racked up on the way up. The adrenaline rush of getting up there is gone, and every step down is just as risky — maybe even more so than the climb up. You’re surrounded by others who are equally drained, and their missteps could take you down with them. And, of course, you’ve got to get to a safe level before the weather inevitably turns.

This is the moment that separates those who simply made it from those who truly master the mountain. Because descending isn’t about luck; it’s about skill. It’s knowing when to push forward and when to pause. It’s making smart choices based on what you learned about the mountain, yourself, and your remaining tools.

This is when you have to give it all you’ve got. You have to dig deep and find that reserve because it’s literally life or death. In a sense, how you descend Mount Everest shows what you’re really made of.

I don’t know about you, but this sounds a lot like the second half of life to me.

People love to toss out, “It’s all downhill from here,” as if that’s the kind of awful fate we should just accept. As if past a certain age, it’s just a slow, inevitable roll into decline.

But the way I see it, this part of life? It’s not a passive downhill. It’s an active descent. And it’s a hell of a lot harder but also more meaningful than the climb.

Now, I know some people would reject even the notion of a descent. This part of our life is another adventure, they’d say. There are more mountains to climb (if that’s what we want). There’s a lot of life left to live. And I agree.

But I also am very aware that the back half of our lives IS the back half. There’s no pretending otherwise. In the hourglass of life, there comes a point when there is more sand in the bottom chamber than the top. Memento Mori.

That’s exactly why this time of our lives isn’t passive at all. It’s when we get to show up with everything we’ve got.

All the wisdom. All the experience. All the grit we’ve built over the years. This is when all those things matter — critically. Because we will face the realities of getting older: health and physical changes, challenging transitions, and the loss of people and things we once held dear.

Thank goodness we also have something we didn’t have on the climb: perspective.

We know what matters. We know where to spend our energy. We know how to move forward with intention instead of scrambling toward an undefined summit. And most importantly, we know ourselves so much better now. If we do it right, this descent isn’t just about survival but mastery. It’s about making it all mean something and fully — once and for all — owning our lives.

So, the next time someone says, “It’s all downhill from here,” how about we just smile and say, “Yeah, and watch me crush it.”

What about you? Ready to take the descent head-on? How do you see your next chapter?

🏷 A Fulfilling Life

💭 muse

“Is art resistance? Can you plant a garden to stop a war? It depends how you think about time. It depends what you think a seed does, if it’s tossed into fertile soil. But it seems to me that whatever else you do, it’s worth tending to paradise, however you define it and wherever it arises.” — Olivia Laing, writer, novelist, cultural critic

🍹 reader shout-out

A very warm shout-out to WAGO reader,

Jenn Woltjen

, a long-time hiker, runner, nordic skier, and endurance lover. Jenn writes the Substack column, Outdoors with Jenn, where she shares her adventures and inspires us to push ourselves out of our comfort zones.

🍭 you said

In this essay (Ghosts of Our Younger Selves),

Nancy A

said:

I don't know if my past and present self could be friends or not, I'm not sure they'd even recognize each other. But I agree, they don't need to, they each had their time and place, and the former helped lead to the latter. I'm much more content with who I am now and that's good enough for me. 😊

Hear, hear!

💬 last word

And because we can all use a little Lenny Kravitz now and again…

And let’s not forget Kravitz in another universe, as Cinna: “I always channel my emotions into my work.” 😉

May the odds be ever in your favor,
Lou Blaser