For more than two months, traveling over an unsupported 1,100 km, we were forced to tap into our highest levels of endurance and perseverance to reach the lofty ambition we had set for ourselves. Our goal? To be the first expedition to cross the main island of Spitsbergen, from north to south at the height of the polar winter.

The storm that has been relentlessly blowing all night goes quiet – too quiet. I wake up and realize that the tent is buried under snow. 

We shovel until morning. Before leaving camp, we nap for 50 minutes; we are exhausted but so close to our goal. Less than 40 km separates us from the southern tip of Svalbard. The inside of our tent is humid, and it is a comparatively balmy 0°C, almost a 40°C difference compared to the previous three days. We must now put all our gear in vapor barrier bags to protect it from condensation, which would turn to ice. We have never experienced such extreme temperature changes before. Getting back on our skis day after day has greatly fatigued us, leaving us feeling like zombies, shuffling across the ice. 

We travel 12 km, and once again, the weather stops us in our tracks. So we begin the exhausting cycle once more.

“You guys should go early in the morning! It’s gonna get bad later.” We read the short message and hurry to leave the ice cap Sorkappfonna. Despite some difficulties packing the tent (the hoops are iced over), today is the day we must give our greatest effort to reach Sørneset, the southern tip of the island. It’s the last day of winter, and the wind has picked up – the clouds are rolling around the peaks of the mountains. The situation gets dangerous to the point where we can no longer stand up straight on the moraines of the glacier Matthiasbreen. With such strong winds, there is no option but to stop pulling the sleds. We head south and readjust our itinerary to reach Sørneset. A mass of threatening clouds is forming off the South Cape, and on the right, a sea scattered with ice is violently being tossed by the wind.

Sometimes I feel like giving up during this never-ending journey. Throughout the expedition, I face winds and inclement weather. I often feel weak and vulnerable. My mind wanders back to Houston University research professor Brenée Brown and a speech addressing vulnerability.

When I was younger, I was ashamed to fail. But this inspiring woman opened a way of thinking for me. I now understand that if you don't take any risks and don't dare to take off, you win nothing. It is essential to fail because you will have to try growing from this experience. She taught me to love failing. As a result, I deepened my knowledge of myself and accepted the vulnerability.