When the bomb exploded, I went numb and lost consciousness.
Grievously injured, I suffered heavy blood loss and cardiac arrest during transport. Doctors declared me dead on arrival, but I survived.
I hovered in a dream-like state, my body wracked with pain and slipping from sleep to waking and back again as evening approached and the temperature dipped lower. Despair began to set in as I contemplated another long, cold night alone on the mountainside.
I witnessed fellow climbers perish. I heard many screaming for help at the top of their lungs. Sometimes, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Though my dream is in danger, nothing will stop me from my goal to swim, run, and pedal 17,000 kilometers.
The top of Mount Everest was just 100 meters before us when the Sherpa behind me tapped me on the shoulder. Time to turn back, he told me, and I agreed.
I became a Sherpa, leading climbs on the mountain because we were poor, and I had to provide. Climbing Mount Everest is how I support my family.
There was a rumor about a pandemic from China raging in the West, but we didn't have much information.
Fighting to stay off the streets in Scandinavia during COVID-19
Two weeks before his 50th birthday, Cristian Gorbea fell off a cliff at night. This is the story of his survival.
Never say to me that you are too old to learn something new. Age is only in one's head, and I want to live.
I started to imagine what I was going to do when I arrived. I wanted to wear the Argentine flag, get off my bike, and try to stand with my poles up.
By afternoon, a fierce wind was driving fine, superheated sand through the air. The temperature was a broiling 120 Fahrenheit.