Circles

"Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth, that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn risen on mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens." Ralph Waldo Emerson (from 'Circles')

Daniel Mast - 05.21.2013 (Photo I took of Dan in 2005)

Last week was marked by the dramatic succession of a literal/metaphorical mountain and a strictly metaphorical valley:

The mountain: Monday afternoon I received a call from my climbing friend Phil with an offer that I could not refuse: he would cover the cost of climbing Denali, if I could swing the trip in 2014. Already cleared for leave from work and mentally prepped for climbing Denali in 2014, the final, unavoidable hurdle was money. With a career in the not-for-profit world, money is something that I never expect to have in abundance. Of course, I said "yes" to Phil's offer. I won't embarrass Phil here, nor will I exhaust the reader with endless exhortation of Phil's gracious gift - that would be poor form - but I will say this: I am forever indebted to Phil for his friendship and financial support to make this shared dream come true. 

This is one of those life moments - like true love or companionship - where a set of seemingly unrelated variables reveal themselves as truly related and, in fact, are not variables at all. Suddenly, a sense of order and purpose becomes clear and the series of events threatens to substantiate claims of a 'master plan', 'fate' or God. A series of fortunate events. Phil and I came along at this moment in time to meet, enjoy a sense of kinship and fulfill a shared dream: Denali. Giddiness upwells within me at the mere thought!

The valley: Tuesday afternoon, moments after getting off the phone with Phil discussing registration for the Denali trip, Jackie, a friend from photography school called, notifying me that Dan Mast, a friend and classmate of ours from school, died that morning as a result of a fall he took at a construction site. The news was shocking. Inexplicable and awful and tragic and without rationale, I simply cannot imagine the hurt and pain felt by his wife, kids, family and closest friends. Survived by an expecting wife and two little ones, Dan left behind not only an incredible family unit, but a gaping hole in the hearts of all who had the pleasure of knowing him. 

Coming from the perspective of an endurance athlete, what struck me most about Dan was his high pain tolerance and uncanny knack for understatement, which gave one the impression that Dan would, without question, live forever (and I hope now, more than ever, that heaven might be real and that statement is true - heaven exists for people like Dan). Dan was seemingly unflappable in spirit. Often, he carried on his face a mischievous grin alerting his friends of an imminent slap on the back or practical joke. On the other side of the coin, Dan was uncompromisingly gentle in spirit and a firm man of integrity. Dan possessed an unbridled zest for life that I have seen in few others. 

I would be remiss if I didn't mention Dan's passion made profession: photography. He had the rare gift of capturing a person's true spirit on film by drawing out their subtle personality traits. Half grins, forced smiles and even wrinkles were no match for Dan's charisma. Native American lore and the bastardization of Native American myths regarding photography may have had some merit with Dan: he may have been stealing our souls all along. At minimum, hearts, that much is for certain. Dan stole the hearts of kith and kin and will be sorely missed. 

Here's to Dan and the joy that he conferred upon those who had the pleasure of knowing him. Rest in peace, Dan. Thoughts and prayers go out to Dan's family and friends.

Onward and upward,

Brian

Doing the Right Thing

"Do nothing in haste, look well to each step, and from the beginning think what may be the end." - Edward Whymper, 'Scrambles Amongst the Alps'

Linds and I on top of a wet Mount Sentinel for the 55th 

summit of the mountain in 2013. 

Today, I write from the comfort of my recliner.

The last two week have been dominated by extreme indecision: to climb Mount McKinley in 2014 or not. The question is more nuanced than a single, simple yes or no (hence the indecision).

Yes, I do want to climb Mount McKinley.
Yes, I am willing (and my employer is amenable) to take 3-4 weeks off of work in 2014.
Yes, I understand the risks.
No, I do not have the money!

Truthfully, it is the money that has kept me on the fence and noncommittal. Total cost of the expedition (with guide service, gear and transportation) comes in at around $9,500. At this stage, my registration has been accepted for a 2014 Mount McKinley expedition with RMI, but the very real and wholly impossible to ignore fact remains: I don't have the money!

The reality is, and I went into the mountains to seek clarity this weekend, it simply isn't in the cards in 2014. With a mad desire to marry the woman of my dreams within the next year or so and the wish to do McKinley the right way, I am going to have to postpone at least a year.

The biggest draw of McKinley 2014 was to climb with a Phil Goss, something of a climbing soulmate. I met Phil on Mount Rainier back in September. With a shared childlike wonder and astonishment for all things beautiful, Phil and I found ourselves the first two climbers out-of-doors every morning while on the mountain (around 6AM), writing poems and taking photos, respectively. We became fast friends. On Rainier, we spoke of doing McKinley together in 2014 with Rainier Mountaineering, Inc. He is staying steady the course and registered for the climb this last week. I will be there every step of the way rooting him on in spirit!

All is not lost. Phil and are now looking at climbing Granite Peak, Montana's high point, in August. It will be a splendid reunion. Although Mount McKinley isn't in my immediate, it is in Phil's and I couldn't be more happy for him. Mount McKinley 2015? Yes, please. In the meantime, I will be slowly procuring the requisite gear to get up the mountain. First purchase? Made this weekend: a McKinley size, 105 liter expedition pack.

Onward and upward!

Brian

Keep moving

"To me, if life boils down to one thing, it's movement. To live is to keep moving." Jerry Seinfeld

It has been awhile since I have provided anything like an update. Well, here we go! I am pleased to share that, overall, it was a banner week for 'into the thermosphere'.

Tuesday: The love of my life, Linds Sanders, accompanied me on my 50th summit of Mount Sentinel in 2013. This milestone marks the halfway point of the Mount Sentinel challenge.

Wednesday: I sought redemption on Mount Sentinel with my mountain bike. My goal is to bike without stopping to the summit via crooked trail/crazy canyon road. I have improved significantly since previous attempts, biking all but 20 feet without stopping (round trip from house-to-house 1 hour and 30 minutes). I can't wait to get back up there and muscle up those 20 feet!

Friday: Fueled by the adrenaline of a completed work week, Diet Coke and AWOLNATION, I had a go at my University Mountain/Mount Sentinel double-dip personal record (PR). This PR route follows the ridge route directly up Mount Sentinel, then heads down to the University/Sentinel saddle, then up to the summit of University Mountain. The route then reverses itself descending back to the saddle and back up Mount Sentinel and down the ridge route (~3,250 vertical feet total). My PR sat at 1 hour 35 minutes round trip (in January), but included running descents. The goal on Friday was to establish a new PR in which not a step was run. Equipped with trekking poles and a light pack, I power hiked the ascents and descents and established my new hiking PR on the route at 1 hour and 42 minutes. I am very pleased with this.

Saturday: I took my bike up the Main Trail in the Rattlesnake. I made it a solid 10 miles in before snow prevented further passage. Unfortunately, no wildlife sightings (save for a snake that I didn't see until my front wheel was on top of it - still feeling awful about that).

I wish I had better news regarding progress toward the magic '500,000 foot' line that I established as the goal of the 'Into the Thermosphere' project. It's not happening. Four months into the challenge, I am sitting at 141,775 feet, well off the pace to 500,000 feet for the year. At this stage my pace is honest and within the realm of what is reasonable. Any increase in intensity and I would be back where I was in February: injured. I have finally locked into a pace that includes adequate rest and cross-training and will remain there as long as I am able.

The upshot: the thermosphere technically begins at ~264,000 feet! Within reason for 2013! The 500,000 foot mark will come, but not until 2014 (perhaps on Denali?). 

All right, full disclosure, this blog post is a bad news sandwich (good news, bad news, good news). Highlights are 'good', falling short of a goal is presumably 'bad' and having my inflammation controlled for 5 months is better than 'good', it is extraordinarily encouraging!  

At my routine bi-monthly check-up - blood work and physical exam  - with the rhuematologist, we fell victim to collective surprise at the results of my most recent blood work. My current pharmaceutical regimen - beginning December 2012 - has effectively brought the level of active inflammation in my body into the normal range (after 3+ years 10x or more of normal). The doc alluded to a possible tapering of some of the medications if my labs remain stable through the next two months. This is the best sort of news you can get with RA!

The best part of all of this - the highlights, botched goals and promising labs - is the quality of life that I have been provided. Save for unrelated knee problems (which are steadily improving), I have been feeling like a million bucks. Keep moving!

Onward and upward!

Brian

Happiness, contentment, peace

"Sometimes it comes with a shove, when you fall in love" Angels and Airwaves

My Least Favorite Questions

"Mountains are the means, the man is the end. The goal is not to reach the tops of mountains, but to improve the man." - Walter Bonatti

The last several weeks have been something of a drought creatively. I won't pretend to have found a century spring or the like, but I have discovered something like a dripping faucet that, drip-by-drip, will satiate for the time being.

Since my last post, "Disappointment, Resilience" x2, I have done my darnedest to keep resilience at the fore by taking positive steps towards healing. I immediately made an appointment with a physician's assistant (PA) at Missoula Bone and Joint to have a look at my knees. He said the pain I was experiencing in both knees was likely associated with pressure created from the rheumatoid arthritis. The PA went on to give me a shot of cortisone in each knee to ease the pressure and sent me on my way with a referral to a physical therapist. 

To physical therapy!

After a brief knee exam, the physical therapist asked me what has become my second-least favorite question (least favorite to come): "Have you tried biking?" My heart sank. Not because of any ill-will toward biking, but because I have so much love for bi-pedal locomotion. Ambling, hiking, sauntering, running, jogging, sprinting, strolling, loping, walking, sashaying, mountaineering, striding and straight-up walking: all of these forms of two-legged travel - even sashaying! - are near and dear to my heart and, given the ability, I would perform combinations of these movements every waking hour. 

Back to the exam… She went on to describe how biking is not only easier on the knee joints - something we all know!,  but in many ways, healthier for them. When activated, the synovial fluid - the lubricant in the knee - heats up and provides nourishment for the meniscus and various cartilage in and around the knee joint. Running, hiking and power walking, on the other hand, provide the additional element of downward force on the cartilage, tearing, grinding and outright destruction of the precious padding in an unhealthy knee. 

After describing the science of knee joint impact through competing dyads (running vs. walking, walking vs. biking), the physical therapist went on to explain the value of cross-training. She mentioned that two to three hikes a week is within the realm of what is reasonable given the amount of cartilage I have remaining in both knee joints. She then asked me what has become my least favorite question: "What are your exercise and physical goals?" The reason I dislike this question lies in the fact that my goals are always unreasonable. Examples of previous exercise and physical goals: win a marathon; place top-three in a 50-mile running race; 100 miles on a stationary bike in under four hours; run Pikes Peak round-trip in five to six hours; run a half-marathon in the morning and a 50k in the afternoon. The challenge, the chase, the insurmountable nature of the goal is exactly what makes it so tantalizing. It is in the pursuit of excellence that I feel most human, most alive. Invariably, when asked the question, I couch my reply, responding with what I think my rheumatologist, PA or physical therapist considers to be the upper limit of what is reasonable. In short, I lie. 

A few more minutes of discussing my ostensible goal - to hike 4-5 times a week, ha! - my reception to the news of biking began to warm, consequently changing my attitude and tone. I begin to ask the 'real' questions, the honest questions that reflected the reality of the condition of my knees and what lie in the realm of the reasonable. "Hiking two to three times a week, with days of biking in between to maintain your cardiovascular health will keep you fit", she said. Although I may not be a genius, I am not an idiot. I know these things she tells me! But how hard it is to accept hard truths, truths that we can intellectually acquiesce, repeat and believe! 

All right. So that is my story: I visited a PA, he gave me shots of cortisone; and then I visited a physical therapist and she asked me two of my least favorite questions. 

My honest answers the questions?

Have you tried biking? After a soul-searching chat with my buddy Dave over a cup of coffee, the idea of biking as a sport became real. I purchased a mountain bike last week and will begin supplementing my hikes and climbs with mountain biking.

What are your exercise and physical goals? At this stage, to climb Mount McKinley in 2014. All else is secondary. The goal of 500,000 feet and 100 summits of Mount Sentinel in 2013 is a means to an end (a means that will need to be amended to the realm of what is reasonable).

This week, I will be telling my physical therapist the truth. Her support, coaching and encouragement is only as good as my honesty. I am doing myself no favors by couching my dreams. If my goal is to make the unreasonable reasonable, the unreasonable must become reasonable. The unreasonable - the dreams! - must be shared with friends, family and, in this case, medical professionals that can provide proper nourishment for the mind, body and soul that can explain away the doubt. 

Disappointment, Resilience, Disappointment, Resilience

"Coordinate brain and mouth. Then ask me what's it like to have my self so figured out...Wish I knew...this is the price you pay for loss of control." Brand New

Two days ago (March 4th), I hit the 100,000 foot mark with a quick jaunt up Mount Sentinel. The hike, although enjoyable, was rather uneventful. Fortunately, the outing was more than a hike, it had a purpose: it served as reconnaissance for the next day's adventure.

In the New Year, my friend Dave began work on a snow cave on the lee side of the south summit of Mount Sentinel. Last week, with the work completed, he and I scoped it out.The thing was spacious! Room for three with gear (and a Scrabble board), we made the plan for an overnight when he was feeling better (Dave was feeling a bit under the weather at the time).

The opportunity presented itself this week with the coming of Dave's birthday and colder temperatures. With Dave back to full health and his birthday on the horizon - who wouldn't want to wake up in a snow cave on top of a mountain on their birthday! - we decided March 5th was the night for the ascent and overnight in the snow cave. We would follow the next day, Dave's birthday, with a morning game of Scrabble in the snow cave and a quick ascent of University Mountain before heading back to town.

The reconnaissance outing - the March 4th outing - proved important. With sustained above freezing temperatures and rain over the last week, we were uncertain of the state of the snow cave. Approaching the cave from the north, I quickly noticed a slightly sunken roof. Fearing the worst - that mother-nature or the child of a mother had its way with the cave, I quickened my pace and discovered a fully collapsed shelter.

Now, I consider myself pretty darn unflappable, but the collapsed snow cave tested my emotional limits. Although I cannot say with 100% certainty - I am not an "ice crimes" forensic scientist - that the damage was human-caused and intentional, a jury of snowflakes would likely deliver a guilty verdict to humans-at-large. The human footprints were there, the damage appeared deliberate and the roof slunk with woeful intentionality. Of all of the feelings that upwelled in that moment, the most powerful was of sadness wrapped in disappointment for Dave. He had invested a lot of calories and sweat making the thing. Not only was it that his hard work was for naught, but that we would not be able to pass the following evening playing Scrabble in the warm, still comfort of the snow cave. Disappointment.

I relayed the news to Dave. Discouraged, but undaunted, Dave and I decided to move ahead with the outing. We would be bringing our shelter on our backs. A tent was the answer. Resilience.

Now here is where the story should get interesting. But. It does not.

My knees have been rather unhappy with me, as of late. Achey and sore with twinges of sharp pain, they - my left in particular - have been slower to recover as the last two months have progressed. Everything has a point of imbalance. A point where too much is really too much, and balance is lost. Where physical, mental, emotional and spiritual limitations are real. It is a place where the reality of it all - the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual - can no longer be ignored (not in good faith). A place where balance is supplanted by imbalance and control is lost. Unfortunately, those four components of life have been out of sync in my life post-RA diagnose and knee surgeries: physical limitations now lie well before mental, spiritual and emotional limits. My mind and soul are capable of going miles and miles further than my body is physically able.

Following my reconnaissance outing on the 4th, my knees screamed "stop, rest awhile!" and my emotional self forcibly retorted, "not a chance! we ride!". My mind, backed by the comfort of my spiritual self, interjected: "it is okay, rest awhile".

Yesterday (March 5th),  I passed the morning at work half-focused on my immediate tasks and half-distracted by the impending point-of-decision: do I call off the outing or go forward with it and risk further damage to my knees. Framed that way, the answer is fairly obvious. And I chose correctly. I called off the outing. Disappointment.

Of course, there is the immediate disappointment of calling of a promising adventure with one of my closest friends. But there is also this acquiescence of a limit: I can go no further. Very disappointing. Amazingly, a sense of peace came over me at that point-of-decision. Stop. Rest awhile. Seek answers.

On my walk home from work I made the call to Missoula Bone and Joint to have my knees examined next week. Peace seems to accompany understanding. Understanding limits. Understanding the possibilities. Resilience.

I'll be back.

Week in Review: Recalibration

"What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured." Kurt Vonnegut

I intended to write about a snow climb that I had earlier in the week, but after a week that was filled with bearing witness to loneliness and loss, my mind won't let me go there.

Summary of my climbing/hiking week: I climbed 2 mountains this week. It was enjoyable. The end.

After work on Thursday, I ditched my usual University Mountain/Mount Sentinel hike and joined up with Interim Youth Director Dave Massey and 4 students from First Pres. Youth Group for homeless outreach. The group meets weekly for an hour to walk the streets of Missoula chatting with street folks - panhandlers, transients and the homeless - while providing hand warmers, snacks and conversation. You may be thinking "evangelists" and "Bible-pushers", but in the immortal words of my nephew "stop doing that!". The group is about loving on people regardless of their appearance, socio-economic status or station in life and fighting that "terrible disease of loneliness". Period.

Loneliness. What if anti-loneliness thoughts drove our actions? What if instead of 'anti-loneliness' we talked about 'inclusion' and undiscriminating 'love'? What if we focused on learning more about others and so doing learned more about ourselves? How we think, feel and love.

Though this may seem - and, in fact, is - counterintuitive to this blog, I gave up hiking for lent (well not entirely). Two days a week I substitute what would have been hikes with people-time: coffee with friends, homeless outreach, catching up with the HS youth group students. The exercise has proven fruitful in its first full week, allowing for a life-giving homeless outreach outing and an opportunity to reconnect with two of my favorite thinkers Aaron McPeck and Brian Marsh over gelato at Cafe Dolce. If lent is about getting closer to God through sacrifice and the examination of vices than "call me maybe". I have no idea what that means, but truly, I have seen the face of something of greater purity and honesty in the faces of the friends and strangers this week. It defies logic. Linds, my girlfriend, also defies logic. She appears always on the leading edge of something pure and honest that defies my sense of logic. At once it induces joy and beckons humility.

The point of all of that is this: I learned this week through homeless outreach, lent, Jesus and Kurt Vonnegut that loneliness is a loathsome disease and through people (relationships, authentic relationships) and the conception of the interconnectedness of all things - some sort of god - we may be closer to the cure than previously thought.