It was cold. Even through my 3 layers I could feel the light breeze, icy and ominous cutting through to my skin, my hands were numb and every joint ached. Every breath was a struggle, every step felt like I was wading through quicksand…..I kept looking behind, but my fellow climbers had disappeared from me over 10 minutes ago, and my friends who were on their way down had already descended out of reach. But I had to keep going. I knew I was close. …and there it was ahead in the distance like a beacon in the early dawn: the flag of Tanzania, beckoning me towards the summit. I became more desperate in my ascent, scrambling over boulders, clawing my way up on all fours, every time I moved too quickly my body gasped for air, as if I was hitting an invisible wall. My struggle was not in vain however. In 10 minutes as I put one foot in front of the other I finally made it, breathless and overwhelmed with emotions. At 4,566 meters (14,980 ft) I was on top of…..Mount Meru, the 5th highest mountain in Africa. Out in the east I could see the sun just above the horizon, greeting me from throwing distance of the majestic one and only, Mt Kilimanjaro. Someday, I thought. Someday I hope to be up there. As I watched the sunrise alone, I marveled at the beauty of the world seen from so high up. Soon my friends joined me, and we celebrated our feat before heading the slow long way down.