It’s harder to sleep when you are 1,850 metres above sea level.

You have vivid dreams. You wake with a scratchy, sore throat. You do adjust, but you must drink buckets of water and breathe slowly, purposefully.

It’s harder to move too. Walking upstairs leaves you breathless and walking uphill is like walking through treacle, heavy and laboured. But the world at 1,850 metres is breathtaking – and not just because of the oxygen adjustment.

A few years ago, I lived in France, nestled high in the Tarentaise Valley. I spent a season working in a ski resort and, not to sound dramatic, but it probably changed my life.

I used to start work before the sun rose. I’d set up breakfast, lay tables, make coffee, and prepare a busy restaurant for service. I’d watch the sun rise between the snow-covered mountains, the pastel colours slowly filling the sky. Every single sunrise was different, somehow becoming even more beautiful than the last.

There was one slight problem, though. I’d never skied before.

‘Today’s the day. You ready?’, the ski instructor grinned, his goggled tan moving with his smile.

I gulped.

‘I guess.’

I found myself looking up at the mountain from my safe space at the bottom, both feet firmly planted. I honestly didn’t believe it would ever be possible for me to learn to ski. To learn how to propel myself down a steep slope and tuck in to gain as much speed as possible. Never. I preferred the solid ground.

But I didn’t really have a choice. Learning to ski was part and parcel of the season. With a handful of lessons, a kind instructor, and a lot of tears and tantrums, I soon found myself flying downhill. And even enjoying it. I felt my confidence grow as I put into practice the idea that everything seems impossible until it’s done. Conquering fear. Learning a new skill. Bit-by-bit. Day-by-day. Tantrum after tear. I broke it down.

Trying something new is endlessly terrifying. There is the chance we could fail, even hurt ourselves or, worse, somebody else. There is a chance we might look silly as we learn. We might make mistakes. But there is also the chance that we might succeed.

I spent the rest of my ski season breathing in the fresh, precious air as I hit the slopes at speed!