In no organized sport do the participants have to endure days of struggle just to get to the starting line of their event. The option to drop out of a race that is going badly does not exist for a climber halfway up a big route, and may entail more risk than pushing on. A team of volunteers will not be waiting with warm blankets and hot food at the next bivy ledge. When you reach the summit, having overcome the challenges that inspired you for months or years, you are not at the finish line. The race is not over. You can't relax and let your guard down like a normal athlete.

I can respect the gulf that separates alpinism from a running race and still appreciate that the physiology that accounts for endurance is the same if you are running a foot race in the city park or front pointing up the second ice field on the north face of the Eiger.

You can’t coach desire, and no matter how fancy your training plan or how high your stated goals are, it comes down to getting out the door and doing the work day after day.

You will never exploit your full technical capacity if your fitness remains a weak link.

Conventional sports have undergone an evolution in training methods during the last fifty years. Curiosity and the inherent improvement brought about by competition have driven this evolution to a state of high refinement such that today's athletes have a very specialized approach to training at the elite levels.

On big routes in big mountains, speed equals safety.

The depth of any story is proportionate to the protagonist's commitment to their goal, the complexity of the problem, and the grace of the solution.