Life is a freaking miracle

"And how should we behave during the Apocalypse? We should be unusually kind to one another, certainly. But we should also stop being so serious. Jokes help a lot. And get a dog, if you don't already have one." Kurt Vonnegut (closing of a speech written by KV, delivered two weeks after KV's death by his son)

From my second floor perch over NE 40th St. in the University District of Seattle, the following is apparent:

- I miss Linds
- It is raining, it has always been raining and it will always be raining
- Related: people walk faster in the rain (in spite of Mythbusters work on the subject)
- Ben and Jerry's 'Cookie Dough' ice cream is freaking delicious
- I ate too much Pho (a lot) and too many cream puffs (2) today
- It is still raining
- I am thankful for shelter and warmth
- I am grateful for the ability to breath, laugh and feel a sense of longing for what is true (and real)
- Kurt Vonnegut Jr. and I are kindred spirits
- Life is a freaking miracle

Life is a freaking miracle. Three weeks ago, I took a blood test specific to RA that tests for a variety of markers that are known indicators of active inflammation. The test, Vectra DA, takes those 12 markers and pumps out a single score that provides a snapshot of a person's RA activity. Last spring, I tested a 46, the low-end severe inflammation. A year later? 13. Thirteen! A score that puts me within the normal range. Dr. English shared that this one-year quantum leap was the single greatest improvement she has seen in her time ordering the test. Unbelievable! How does that happen!? This Vectra DA test marks 6-months flare-up free with consistently normal labs.

If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.

Onward and upward,

Brian

Just engaged!

"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die, where you invest your love, you invest your life." Mumford and Sons

June 9th, 2013 ~6:45AM: On bended knee, soundtracked by the otherworldly falsetto of Jonsi of Sigur Ros on the summit of Stuart Peak with a Montana sapphire ring from Studio Pandora in hand, I asked Linds Sanders to be my life partner. 

The plan to propose to Linds on the summit of Stuart Peak was conceived of early on in our dating relationship. In October of 2012, after two months of dating, it was clear to me that Linds was "the one". Whether or not I was her "one" early on, I suppose, is now moot. I got her! I really mean this in a joking sense. We were - and still are - positively smitten with each other. On a routine hike up Mount Sentinel in October, I looked out and up the Rattlesnake valley towards Stuart Peak. A domed peak of about 8,000 feet, Stuart Peak is the most striking feature of the Rattlesnake Wilderness as seen from Missoula. What's more, Stuart Peak is Linds' favorite mountain and the destination of one of our first dates. An easy choice.

No less than a mountaintop proposal would do, as a symbol of what we had quickly become for each other: a vantage point from which to see the rest of the world. Immediately, my Dad's event planning instincts kicked in: as a rule, Christiansons do nothing half-assed. More than a mountaintop proposal I greatly desired to contrive a scene that normally does not exist on top of semi-remote mountains. I wanted to create an unforgettable, somewhat improbable, scenario that simultaneously demonstrated my commitment to Linds through action: I would carry a table and chairs up the mountain to create the most beautiful dining we might experience. 

So the proposal plan was hatched.

By the end of April, marriage had become part of everyday conversation for Linds and I. It was inevitable. It was just a matter of when…the element of surprise remained in my favor. Linds and I, true to our busy selves, scheduled out our summer hikes in early May. I was quick to put a Stuart Peak hike - under the guise of revisiting the mountain in the new year together for the first time - on the calendar for early June.

En route to camp on the shoulder of Stuart Peak.

Saturday, June 8th, I picked up Linds from work and headed up into the Rattlesnake. To cut ourselves off from the reality of work and the hustle and bustle of our lives, I informed Linds that I had requested work off for her the following day (and received her ED's blessing). Obligations released and overnight packs shouldered, we hit the trail around 6:30PM. We made quick work of the ~6.5 miles and ~3,000 vertical feet that lay between the trailhead and where we would ultimately pitch the tent. As crimson and orange faded to black, we zipped ourselves into the tent and promptly followed the sun's lead. 

Sunrise over the east ridge of Stuart Peak.
Linds in the foreground.

The soft glow of dawn greeted us at 4:45 the following morning. Calm, clear and high 40s, the day was, by mountain standards, perfect. We prepared hot drinks, packed for the summit hike and set off around 5:30AM. The sun welcomed us within minutes over the east ridge of Stuart Peak just as we gained the south ridge of the mountain. We took several pictures along the way as the sun threatened to swallow us in its splendid light.

Roughly one-hundred feet below the summit, I paused, turned to Linds and asked her to look at her watch, wait five minutes, then follow me to the summit. Somewhat befuddled, but welcoming the rest, she obliged. I took off for the summit!

Summit reached, I scrambled - struggled really - to unload the contents of my pack: a fold-up table, two camp chairs, iPod speakers/iPod, sparkling grape juice, champagne flutes and, of course, the ring. So flustered by anticipation was I, setting everything up without breaking anything became my primary objective. The scene was utterly thrilling: endless mountain ranges as far as the eye dare view, sun ensconcing the summit and surrounding peaks and the love of my life five minutes away. Hurriedly, I set up the table, tablecloth, chairs and music. I cued up 'Untitled #4' from Sigur Ros' Untitled album and maxed out the volume, coating the landscape with a layer of post-rock transcendence. 

The scene was set.

A sense of peace came over me as I seated myself in front of the table setting. Ring in hand, it was done. The planning that began nine months prior had come to fruition. I watched as Lind's came over the horizon line and neared my seated position. She dropped her pack and sat next to me. I don't recall what I said exactly or how she responded. After a minute or two of sitting, I sat up, raised to one knee, turned to Linds and asked her to marry me. Tears of joy were released. For both of us the wait was over. After a couple of moments of tears, she responded "yes, of course I will". 

Toasting to the engagement on top of Stuart Peak.

We spent the next several minutes seated on the ground in a warm embrace. All of the planning did not take into account the sum of the elements being greater than their component parts. The real quickly became surreal and fantasy, for a moment, was the new normal. We eventually made use of the chairs and table and enjoyed Bernice's cinnamon rolls, a slideshow of portraits of us (how self-indulgent), sparkling grape juice and one of the most beautiful breakfasts either of us could have imagined! 

After spending about an hour and a half on the summit, we packed up and headed down to explore the lakes before returning to camp and returning to our friends, families and communities to share the news!

Jumping for joy on the summit of Stuart Peak!

I feel blessed beyond belief to have been given the opportunity to be with Linds, a woman who has provided a new level of clarity, joy and a hopeful future. Joy is in our hearts as we begin this journey together.

Onward and upward,

Brian

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.