This story was originally published by BoomerCafe.com

“Come on, Dad. You can do it!” My twenty-something daughter’s voice was bouncing in my head. She had been saying that for years whenever we talked about “climbing a 14er,” and she was saying it now, as I struggled beneath the summit of Mt. Torrey (elevation 14,275’) in the heart of the Colorado Rockies.

Then my voice entered my head. What the hell am I doing here? Do I really think I can accomplish this? What if I have a heart attack? Or a stroke? Is there even cell phone service up here? Are my kids going to watch me die on the side of this mountain?

Finding balance and falling into the zone

My daughter, son, his girlfriend and I were at the trailhead at 7:15 am (which would give us enough time to summit and descend before the afternoon storms hit.) They were in their early to mid-twenties. It was my 54^th birthday.

We got underway and I quickly realized that I had overpacked. I needed to lean forward to counteract the pull of my backpack and water bladder. I was starting out of balance.

We shuffled through our gear and grabbed only the essentials: energy snacks, water and a rain jacket. Everything else went into my backpack and was stashed in a marked bush. We began to climb.

The trail started through an open meadow filled with explosions of wildflowers. A verdant landscape that wouldn’t last. I thought of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz when she began her journey from Munchkinland. “Follow the yellow brick road!” sang in my head.

But soon all sounds stopped except the wind as we trekked in silence. The flowers and grass faded away, replaced by rock and dirt. Breathing became the focus, and putting one foot in front of the other. Hours passed, and the air grew thinner. My lungs felt like two small flames, about to go out. I cursed my daughter for talking me into this.

Then I made it.

I didn’t see any other Boomers on the summit, but I felt in good company. I was no longer worried about “what-ifs.” The burn would go from my chest to my hamstrings, and a cramp would put me down once. But by the time we reached our vehicles I felt rejuvenated, transformed. I still feel that way, two years later.

Challenge yourself today

Climbing that mountain didn’t just enable me to conquer fearful thoughts; it showed me what my body can do if my head is clear.

Now, hoofing-it is a part of my daily life and I couldn’t imagine otherwise. I take long, brisk walks with my dog to keep us in shape. My current goal is 15 miles a week.

So target your next bucket-list challenge, and prepare to crush it. Don’t go crazy with the physical training. Your confidence is gaining strength. Your body will follow. Once you start getting the buzz from shattering your fears, the world becomes a richer place.