Another week, living the dream. Every time I say that I get the psychological kickback of thinking, 'I just said I am living the dream, so it must be pretty good.' It's like saying, "I'm a good student." Well if you say it you are more likely to make it happen. So if you say you are living the dream you are more likely to feel you are living the dream. Let's face it, my life is pretty incredible. As I say that I have two reactions, one is to look around and see all the people less fortunate than I. I need to be productive and generous in my life because so much has been entrusted to me and I feel it is my duty to spread my wealth with the less fortunate. Second, I look around at all of those that have life similar to me or even better. While I know I could do better and be more generous, the same goes for many others as well.
Work was good. Work is good. I wake up in the morning looking forward to going to work. The vast majority of the year I leave for work before the sun comes up. Like I said last week, I have more relaxation about work since Christmas than I did before. Things are getting done, we are fixing problems, we will eventually go to production with a new product. It will never be perfect, people will always find things to complain about. Yet, in the time we have between now and then we will make the product even better. Sure I could get more stressed out about the process and how slow it moves and how many steps there are, but in a strange way that lumbering complexity is part of the fool proof aspect of what it takes to find all the bugs.
Running went well, I ran two workouts and a race and a total of 57 miles. Saturday I ran a 3000 meter indoor race against against a bunch of mostly Augustana runners. I finished in 8th in 9:19, and I had seeded myself at 9:15, so pretty close to what I expected. We got out slow I was in maybe 4th at 100 meters, but was boxed in and slowly drifted back along the rail as we ran I think 38, 39, 38 for the first three laps, so on the strait away after 650 meters I moved out to lane three and cruzed into first. I led for maybe two laps then was passed by two people and ran in third through at least the mile, maybe 2k. Then it started to break up as many of the Augie runners put in surges. I held my own okay, but of course ended up in 8th over all. Only a few seconds out of 4th place. I also closed well, thinking of the pain of a 3k compared to the pain of a marathon, HA! track races are easy. I out kicked one or two runners that were right with me with 200 to go. The goal for this indoor season is a 5k PR. My 15:44 is one of my weakest personal records.
Coaching was good. Those two workouts I ran I ran entirely with runners on the team I coach. I think it helps them to have someone running with them as much as it helps me to have someone to push me. Our distance runners ran their first meet of the year and overall, we are headed in a good direction. Of course I think of the negatives, probably another kid with anemia, a few out of shape, people focusing on the wrong events. However, overall, we are headed in the right direction. In a matter of weeks we will probably get several school records. Not just our relay records, which are slower than many high schools, but also a couple of our open events. The team overall set at least three school records over the weekend, Women's 55 Hurdles, Women's Pole Vault, and Women's Weight Throw.
What else in life? Preparations for Everest continue. I have been sleeping a lot. I slept 10 hours once this week and then 11 hours Friday night. The other nights I am getting a solid 8-9 hours. I had a mini-fever probably four times this week. Part of it is going to bed a little more dehydrated than I should. Another part of it is going from 37 miles and no workouts to 57 miles, two workouts and a race.
It was a good week.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
Back in the Game
I am running a 3000 meter race tomorrow. My first race in over three months. I am getting back into the game. There is nervousness I am rusty and out of shape. There is excitement about the thrill of pushing myself.
It is exciting getting out there on the starting line. I won't do this forever and that helps me appreciate every opportunity. Tomorrow, even if I get last, it will be a good experience.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Ways I Might Die on Mount Everest
To ignore my possible death on Mount Everest is ignorant. It is a very real possibility. I rationalize each possible way to die but ultimately, what happens happens. A falling serac, an avalanche, missing clipping into a rope at the moment I lose my footing and fall, a heart attack, sitting down and not getting up could all kill me. To think that I am above death on a mountain is ignorant in every sense of the word. I could die in April or May 2014 vainly seeking to climb to a place over 6000 other people have already been.
How might I die based on altitude? This info graphic gives a nice overview of deaths at which altitudes.
5400-6000 meters: The kumbu ice fall I could get killed by a falling serac, which is really just a big house sized block of ice in a glacier waiting to slide five feet down the mountain and topple down on other ice. While the chance I die in the ice fall are very low (more Sherpas die in the ice fall than clients because they are paid to maintain the route) it is clearly a chance. I will mitigate this risk by climbing through it generally in the dark or early morning hours before it has the chance to get hit by the sun and melt, which is to say readjust.
7000-8000 meters: Avalanche danger lurks. While not a huge concern due to generally low snowfalls at those altitudes and placement of camps near the right edge of the slope, tents are wiped out by avalanches. If I die in an avalanche chances are I will get to enjoy a few minutes before I suffocate to death. I will mitigate this risk by only sleeping there two or three nights, hopefully.
8000-8848 meters: Cerebral edema, also known as acute mountain sickness, is basically a headache due to the brain swelling with fluid that disorientates people and causes a chain of bad decisions to happen. I will mitigate this risk by staying very hydrated, drinking tea, which has antioxidants which may in fact help, and always carrying dexamethasone in pill form with me. (You may remember the movie Vertical Limit had syringes of "Dex" that is dexamethasone and while syringes do exist the pill form is far more common and having licked the powder from the pills in 2009 in Pakistan I can verify it is very effective.) I also plan to mitigate this risk by descending the mountain if I have a severe headache (as I did the first time I slept above 6000 meters or 20,000 feet), if I throw up or my fingers and toes are especially cold.
Pulmonary edema, which is the lungs filling with fluid. This is a rather sudden illness and in the few cases I have read about on 8000 meter peaks it is nearly always fatal. I plan to mitigate this risk by carrying nifedipine in pill form and basically following all of the above suggestions with the addition that if I cough up blood once, that's it, I need to go down.
Exposure can easily kill people. Think of this as frostbite meets altitude sickness. At higher altitudes our bodies can not keep us as warm so blood is shunted to our core for our vital organs. This leads to fingers and toes becoming colder faster than in normal -40 degree weather at sea level. In other words, taking a glove or mitten off to take a picture, clip the safety line into the fixed line, or dare I say, help a dying person greatly accelerates the possibility of frostbite and while frostbite in itself is not deadly the damage of descending even slower once you do not have working fingers or toes means that that cold can rise up your arms and legs and bring your body to uncomfortable levels. It inevitably gets to the point where a person sits down, without his or her mittens on, and never gets up again because every minute sitting down is a minute getting a fraction of a degree colder (due to conduction with the rocks and snow one is sitting on plus not using the structural muscles). I plan to mitigate this risk by being extremely critical of opportunities to take my mittens off. In an ideal world, I will not take my mittens off on summit day. To be completely honest, that will depend on my ability to operate a camera in my Outdoor Research Alti Mitts on the summit. That will also depend on the ropes I have to change over, and any rescues that I may end up part of. My mittens do have leashes that I will wear so if and when I do take them off they only go eight inches away. Frostbite and exposure is one of the things we think about more commonly because it is a gray away more than others.
Finally, most likely on the high mountain, but possible throughout the mountain, I could die while climbing unroped. That is a loose term that may describe a mere five feet between one fixed rope and a second fixed rope. It could also mean standing at the top of the Hillary Step and unclipping one line and not clipping into the right rope and then going to set up my rappel and not setting it up right so I fall. Falls = death. I have not heard of anyone breaking a leg rappelling the Hillary Step and living although it is very possible.
So those are the most likely ways I could die. There are other ways, like heart attack and rock fall, but those are relatively minor plus I plan to wear a helmet most of the time and a heart rate monitor frequently.
Overall, there is roughly a 1.5% chance of dying on Everest. Now, being from the USA, it's only about .7% chance of death based on very comprehensive Himalayan Database. However, standing on the summit, having not used bottled oxygen I have roughly an 8% chance of dying on the way down. That 8% number is the one that really scares me. I must climb totally within myself. I've found two articles, I can't find the other one today, that suggested 7.6%, yet the point is, if 12 of us make the summit without oxygen in 2014, chances are one doesn't take a hot shower again.
Something worth mentioning, the key to most of these is listening to your body, to the headaches, tiredness and cold fingers and toes that unchecked can spell death. Having turned around on Broad Peak, El Cap, Longs Peak numerous times, and even Mount Adams in New Hampshire, I feel that turning around below the summit is something I am comfortable with. I have had summit fever on perhaps three mountains, but twice it was because over the top was the fastest way home and once, well it almost got me struck by lightening and killed so I hope I learned my lesson. In a related way, my Chicago marathon in 2013 was just plain horrendous. I felt like a lead ballon the last four miles. I had strength, but no energy. My reserves were gone. I was running on metabolizing fat, which is rather inefficient. It was painful in a very holistic way. However, it showed me how much I can tolerate. I can handle a lot. I passed Africans better than myself that stopped and DNF'd. Yet in that pain and suffering God allowed me to keep going and if I get to the that point on Everest, and I definitely hope I don't, I know that it is possible that I keep going. I've climbed in 60 mile per hour winds. I've soloed 60 degree ice slopes and fifth class rock, I've hit the glycogen wall, I've woken a black bear before dawn at 5 AM while running alone, I've repelled 6 mm rope and that braided Korean hardware store stuff.
If I die you had better believe it's either instant and I didn't see it coming, or I fought like mad with mental screams and the force of men three times my size through pain that would stop most others. Yes I could die. If we let the fear of death stop us, what are we living for? I am a Christian, death is a welcome respite from the pain of this world. Yet humans have a resilient body, we can overcome again and again things that are "not possible".
"Impossible is nothing." - a rather liberal translation of Luke 1:37 in the Bible.
How might I die based on altitude? This info graphic gives a nice overview of deaths at which altitudes.
5400-6000 meters: The kumbu ice fall I could get killed by a falling serac, which is really just a big house sized block of ice in a glacier waiting to slide five feet down the mountain and topple down on other ice. While the chance I die in the ice fall are very low (more Sherpas die in the ice fall than clients because they are paid to maintain the route) it is clearly a chance. I will mitigate this risk by climbing through it generally in the dark or early morning hours before it has the chance to get hit by the sun and melt, which is to say readjust.
7000-8000 meters: Avalanche danger lurks. While not a huge concern due to generally low snowfalls at those altitudes and placement of camps near the right edge of the slope, tents are wiped out by avalanches. If I die in an avalanche chances are I will get to enjoy a few minutes before I suffocate to death. I will mitigate this risk by only sleeping there two or three nights, hopefully.
8000-8848 meters: Cerebral edema, also known as acute mountain sickness, is basically a headache due to the brain swelling with fluid that disorientates people and causes a chain of bad decisions to happen. I will mitigate this risk by staying very hydrated, drinking tea, which has antioxidants which may in fact help, and always carrying dexamethasone in pill form with me. (You may remember the movie Vertical Limit had syringes of "Dex" that is dexamethasone and while syringes do exist the pill form is far more common and having licked the powder from the pills in 2009 in Pakistan I can verify it is very effective.) I also plan to mitigate this risk by descending the mountain if I have a severe headache (as I did the first time I slept above 6000 meters or 20,000 feet), if I throw up or my fingers and toes are especially cold.
Pulmonary edema, which is the lungs filling with fluid. This is a rather sudden illness and in the few cases I have read about on 8000 meter peaks it is nearly always fatal. I plan to mitigate this risk by carrying nifedipine in pill form and basically following all of the above suggestions with the addition that if I cough up blood once, that's it, I need to go down.
Exposure can easily kill people. Think of this as frostbite meets altitude sickness. At higher altitudes our bodies can not keep us as warm so blood is shunted to our core for our vital organs. This leads to fingers and toes becoming colder faster than in normal -40 degree weather at sea level. In other words, taking a glove or mitten off to take a picture, clip the safety line into the fixed line, or dare I say, help a dying person greatly accelerates the possibility of frostbite and while frostbite in itself is not deadly the damage of descending even slower once you do not have working fingers or toes means that that cold can rise up your arms and legs and bring your body to uncomfortable levels. It inevitably gets to the point where a person sits down, without his or her mittens on, and never gets up again because every minute sitting down is a minute getting a fraction of a degree colder (due to conduction with the rocks and snow one is sitting on plus not using the structural muscles). I plan to mitigate this risk by being extremely critical of opportunities to take my mittens off. In an ideal world, I will not take my mittens off on summit day. To be completely honest, that will depend on my ability to operate a camera in my Outdoor Research Alti Mitts on the summit. That will also depend on the ropes I have to change over, and any rescues that I may end up part of. My mittens do have leashes that I will wear so if and when I do take them off they only go eight inches away. Frostbite and exposure is one of the things we think about more commonly because it is a gray away more than others.
Finally, most likely on the high mountain, but possible throughout the mountain, I could die while climbing unroped. That is a loose term that may describe a mere five feet between one fixed rope and a second fixed rope. It could also mean standing at the top of the Hillary Step and unclipping one line and not clipping into the right rope and then going to set up my rappel and not setting it up right so I fall. Falls = death. I have not heard of anyone breaking a leg rappelling the Hillary Step and living although it is very possible.
So those are the most likely ways I could die. There are other ways, like heart attack and rock fall, but those are relatively minor plus I plan to wear a helmet most of the time and a heart rate monitor frequently.
Overall, there is roughly a 1.5% chance of dying on Everest. Now, being from the USA, it's only about .7% chance of death based on very comprehensive Himalayan Database. However, standing on the summit, having not used bottled oxygen I have roughly an 8% chance of dying on the way down. That 8% number is the one that really scares me. I must climb totally within myself. I've found two articles, I can't find the other one today, that suggested 7.6%, yet the point is, if 12 of us make the summit without oxygen in 2014, chances are one doesn't take a hot shower again.
Something worth mentioning, the key to most of these is listening to your body, to the headaches, tiredness and cold fingers and toes that unchecked can spell death. Having turned around on Broad Peak, El Cap, Longs Peak numerous times, and even Mount Adams in New Hampshire, I feel that turning around below the summit is something I am comfortable with. I have had summit fever on perhaps three mountains, but twice it was because over the top was the fastest way home and once, well it almost got me struck by lightening and killed so I hope I learned my lesson. In a related way, my Chicago marathon in 2013 was just plain horrendous. I felt like a lead ballon the last four miles. I had strength, but no energy. My reserves were gone. I was running on metabolizing fat, which is rather inefficient. It was painful in a very holistic way. However, it showed me how much I can tolerate. I can handle a lot. I passed Africans better than myself that stopped and DNF'd. Yet in that pain and suffering God allowed me to keep going and if I get to the that point on Everest, and I definitely hope I don't, I know that it is possible that I keep going. I've climbed in 60 mile per hour winds. I've soloed 60 degree ice slopes and fifth class rock, I've hit the glycogen wall, I've woken a black bear before dawn at 5 AM while running alone, I've repelled 6 mm rope and that braided Korean hardware store stuff.
If I die you had better believe it's either instant and I didn't see it coming, or I fought like mad with mental screams and the force of men three times my size through pain that would stop most others. Yes I could die. If we let the fear of death stop us, what are we living for? I am a Christian, death is a welcome respite from the pain of this world. Yet humans have a resilient body, we can overcome again and again things that are "not possible".
"Impossible is nothing." - a rather liberal translation of Luke 1:37 in the Bible.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Going Hard! (And Being Older...)
Others have said it, as you grow old you can go harder on a given day than when you were younger. I'm specifically referring to running and training for endurance racing, but I suppose this would also refer to anything from studying to negotiating.
Tuesday (yesterday) I ran a workout with four different groups during track practice. I ran with each group until they were either injured or done. When I finished there was no one left running. To go from my moderate state of fitness to doing such a long and fast workout was surprising. I ran a 47s 300 m, 66s 400 m, and 14 s 100m, among about three miles of hard running. Yet toward the end, when I wanted to quit, I knew I could keep going, because I've been to that point in workouts and races so many times I know I can keep going. It was also the oldest I have ever been when running a workout.
I suppose this is just a perk of getting older. Most of the best ultrarunners are much older than the best track and road racing runners, in part because I suppose they benefit from knowing they can keep going when the going gets tough.
The downside is I don't seem to recover as fast as when I was younger. Although recovery depends on so many things, I don't think that is a hard and fast rule so much as maybe a consequence of doing harder workouts or spending less time on the little things that improve recovery. (At least that's my rationalization.)
2014 is going to be a good year!
Tuesday (yesterday) I ran a workout with four different groups during track practice. I ran with each group until they were either injured or done. When I finished there was no one left running. To go from my moderate state of fitness to doing such a long and fast workout was surprising. I ran a 47s 300 m, 66s 400 m, and 14 s 100m, among about three miles of hard running. Yet toward the end, when I wanted to quit, I knew I could keep going, because I've been to that point in workouts and races so many times I know I can keep going. It was also the oldest I have ever been when running a workout.
I suppose this is just a perk of getting older. Most of the best ultrarunners are much older than the best track and road racing runners, in part because I suppose they benefit from knowing they can keep going when the going gets tough.
The downside is I don't seem to recover as fast as when I was younger. Although recovery depends on so many things, I don't think that is a hard and fast rule so much as maybe a consequence of doing harder workouts or spending less time on the little things that improve recovery. (At least that's my rationalization.)
2014 is going to be a good year!
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Every Drive a Blessing
Seriously, my van is free to die whenever it wants. I mean every month that goes by that I don't have to buy a newer car means a large chuck of money can be spent on other things. Every single day I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have such a fine piece of machinery.
Yes, 308,000 miles!
 |
| 1993 Toyota Previa with 308,006 Miles |
Monday, January 13, 2014
I Live in Iowa: Week 140
The week that was… Having a wonderful 16 consecutive days of vacation seems to have permanently changed my outlook. For example, to be honest my new position at work is more stressful than my old one, after about nine weeks I still felt that I was not really "getting it". Yet, taking vacation and allowing my mind to wander and focus on other things, and dare I say refocus on the critical things in life, I feel much less stress at work or about work now. I realize I have only been back one week, but I think this is another development in where work fits into my life.
I feel that having some time off allowed me to realize how effective I am actually being in my new position. In other words, I had a hard time knowing if I was doing any good, but I now know I am doing well. That doubt is a scary thing. I mean not knowing if you are worth your pay can leave one with the feeling they will send you packing.
That is to say, my return to work is going really well. We are getting things done and I know we will get quite a few things done before I leave in April for the big E.
I only ran 38 miles last week. My right knee has had a patella femoral tendonitis (runner's knee) flare up so my mileage was lower because it hurts to run, and it hurts more the farther I run. Not terrible, I still had a nine mile run and a very very light 6 mile tempo during the week, but enough that it curtails my normal volume. Thus I have been in the weight room four days this week doing my squats, adductor, abductor, and hamstring exercises that worked for me back in 2006 when I had this. Plus, I'm running like three times the mileage I did when I had it that go around. In short, this too shall pass.
Coaching, it's good to get back to seeing all the student athletes. We lost a couple in the last few months and it can be hard when we put in hours and hours of time into kids and they disappear. However, the ones that remain still give us our largest distance squad yet and seem more committed than in years past. It takes a long time to build a program. This is really good for me to see the team as a whole develop. The rest of the team is quite strong, this is one of those teams that is just very weak on distance runners.
What else? Everest, of course. I read a lot about it. I have three more pieces of equipment to buy. None are necessary, but insure that I have a little more warmth and safety than if I did not buy them. Unfortunately, death is a big part of mountaineering. While Everest is likely the safest 8000 meter peak (lowest death to summit rate of about 1%) it is the most popular one so the most people die on it every year (5-8 is pretty normal). Also unfortunately, people write about death on Mount Everest far more than the success and safe stories. So I have been reading about why and how people died so that I can minimize the risk to myself when I am up there. Here is a thorough article I read recently about ten high profile deaths.
I will likely mention this more in the coming months, but being in these places where death is common refocuses me. If there is something I want to do, I had better do it quick. Well, I want you to know I'm very blessed by God. To quote John 3:16 in the Bible, "For God so loved the world that he gave he only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." That sums it up. If I don't live to see June 2014, well then I guess I get to leave this world of suffering before most of you. My life and my time on Earth is insignificant compared to anything from God. To quote Ecclesiastes 1:2, "…Everything is meaningless." In part what that means is that all the things we chase after, other than God, are a waste of time. While I could expand on that more, you can come to your own conclusions about it for now.
I feel that having some time off allowed me to realize how effective I am actually being in my new position. In other words, I had a hard time knowing if I was doing any good, but I now know I am doing well. That doubt is a scary thing. I mean not knowing if you are worth your pay can leave one with the feeling they will send you packing.
That is to say, my return to work is going really well. We are getting things done and I know we will get quite a few things done before I leave in April for the big E.
I only ran 38 miles last week. My right knee has had a patella femoral tendonitis (runner's knee) flare up so my mileage was lower because it hurts to run, and it hurts more the farther I run. Not terrible, I still had a nine mile run and a very very light 6 mile tempo during the week, but enough that it curtails my normal volume. Thus I have been in the weight room four days this week doing my squats, adductor, abductor, and hamstring exercises that worked for me back in 2006 when I had this. Plus, I'm running like three times the mileage I did when I had it that go around. In short, this too shall pass.
Coaching, it's good to get back to seeing all the student athletes. We lost a couple in the last few months and it can be hard when we put in hours and hours of time into kids and they disappear. However, the ones that remain still give us our largest distance squad yet and seem more committed than in years past. It takes a long time to build a program. This is really good for me to see the team as a whole develop. The rest of the team is quite strong, this is one of those teams that is just very weak on distance runners.
What else? Everest, of course. I read a lot about it. I have three more pieces of equipment to buy. None are necessary, but insure that I have a little more warmth and safety than if I did not buy them. Unfortunately, death is a big part of mountaineering. While Everest is likely the safest 8000 meter peak (lowest death to summit rate of about 1%) it is the most popular one so the most people die on it every year (5-8 is pretty normal). Also unfortunately, people write about death on Mount Everest far more than the success and safe stories. So I have been reading about why and how people died so that I can minimize the risk to myself when I am up there. Here is a thorough article I read recently about ten high profile deaths.
I will likely mention this more in the coming months, but being in these places where death is common refocuses me. If there is something I want to do, I had better do it quick. Well, I want you to know I'm very blessed by God. To quote John 3:16 in the Bible, "For God so loved the world that he gave he only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." That sums it up. If I don't live to see June 2014, well then I guess I get to leave this world of suffering before most of you. My life and my time on Earth is insignificant compared to anything from God. To quote Ecclesiastes 1:2, "…Everything is meaningless." In part what that means is that all the things we chase after, other than God, are a waste of time. While I could expand on that more, you can come to your own conclusions about it for now.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Goal Oriented, Process Oriented, or Both
I just read this really interesting article that touched on the concept of process oriented: http://mobile.nytimes.com/2014/01/10/sports/mikaela-shiffrins-swift-if-unplanned-ascent-to-world-champion.html?_r=0&referrer=
A lightbulb went off in my head. I am process oriented. As I think about Everest, and the metaphor that is for accomplishing any goal in life I realize it has never been about standing on the summit. I have known that for some time. That is part of the reason I am choosing to climb without bottled oxygen despite it being significantly (3x-25x) harder. That is part of the reason I am only getting there close to 10 years after deciding I wanted to go.
It is the reason I started a company and failed. It is the reason I race marathons, and often fall apart at the end. Success, reaching the goal, is not why we do these things, we do them to see what is possible. We put ourselves in position to take advantage of an opportunity.
The process versus a goal? Is it really one or the other? Without a goal what are you processing? This is a deep realization for me. I've always said I was very goal oriented, yet I have also said that reaching the goal isn't as important as knowing I tried. That is why I was vegan for 73 days.
I need to think about this some more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)