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There is a first for everything; Mars will soon be checked off the human race bucket list.
My suit registers an increased heart rate. I empty a deep lungful from the cylinders on my back as I ready to claim the planet with a step, and feel solid ground after a seven month journey and a lifetime of work.
When I was five, I looked at the night sky and focused my telescope on a speck of red, and vowed to go there.
I became a synonym with science; physics, chemistry and math flowed in my veins.
I can calculate telemetry changes, fuel burns, entry trajectories before a user can enter the data.
Here I am; an actor on a red stage with the world as an audience.
I take ten steps, and then my heart sinks and flutters; I feel dismal.
I forgot to say my lines.
Everyone knows Neil Armstrong's enduring "one small step..."
I had rehearsed my quotable for over two years. I wrote them. They were professionally edited, scrutinized, and authorized up the chain. I had dreamt it, and practiced them as I put the suit on.
I had opened the door to the capsule, and run out like a child at recess.
I went from elation to depression in an instant by omitting the easiest and hardest part of the mission.
For mankind, this will be historic, but not memorable.
