Rheumatoid Arthritis, cookies and mountains

"Is there truth, in your pain, you decide" Dashboard Confessional

Rheumatoid Arthritis: 
Bad news: still have it
Good news: not as badly

Cookies:
Today, I ate two cookies. Yesterday, I ate three (smallish cookies). Currently, my favorite cookie is whatever Connie Dillon is baking (soon to change, 'The Letter K' is coming to town this week).

Mountains:
The text gadget on the right is not working. Consequently, I have not been able to update the project stats for a couple of weeks. Here are a few cumulative states updated:

Total vertical feet in 2013: 339,000
Mount Sentinel summits: 111
University Mountain: 26

On Sunday, October 27th, I am going to race - power hike, not run - the Mount Sentinel hill climb. I am pretty pumped to race again. The last race that I sunk my teeth into was the Elkhorn 50 miler in 2009. It ended disappointingly with a 'did not finish' and resulted in the first string of medical visits that led to the RA diagnosis in 2010. At this stage, it is all about doing the best that I can do within my physical means and delight in the fact that I am able to do what I love: go up mountains.

Onward and upward,

Brian

Mount Sentinel: Double or Nothing

Total vertical ascent: ~4,000 feet

Total distance: ~5 miles

Total elapsed time: 1 hour 25 minutes 40 seconds

First round trip: 41 minutes 27 seconds

Second round trip: 44 minutes 13 seconds 

Sometime back in the April or May - probably May, I had the vision for an all out double effort on Mount Sentinel. Two back-to-back round trips to the summit power hiking - no running - in an all out effort. Unfortunately, summer came on quickly, delaying the outing: my body seems to be at its best in terms of sustained exertion in the 40s-50s. Yesterday, it struck me that tomorrow (today) was the day! My body felt strong and the weather had finally become relatively stable. Go time!

I fueled up with a Clif Shot Blok jelly on my way to the trailhead, cued AWOLNATION on my iPod and set my timer. I went pretty hard and probably looked ridiculous as ever to all of the other hikers on the trail: trekking poles flailing, legs akimbo. So it goes...and so I went!

The first ascent was improbable. Improbable in the sense that I was killing myself on the first ascent, way too fast. I knew what I was doing and by that I mean I was clueless, save for the fact that I knew I had the entire descent to recover for the second ascent. Diminishing returns...and so I continued!

I pushed hard for the first summit and failed to get my split on the summit, but I put it at around 24:30ish based on my descent times and second round trip. I tagged the summit and hauled butt down, doing everything in my power to not run a step. Instead, I power walked with a low-center-of gravity, again looking quite silly I'm sure.

The first descent went without a hitch. I popped a couple of Shot Bloks on the way down when my body was ready to receive it. As I got back to the parking lot, I checked my split: 41 minutes and 27 seconds. I was beside myself! My previous PR on that trail for the year was in the 45-46 minute range. I felt strong and ready for another go (and somehow the AWOLNATION album I was listening to restarted. So, you know, it was go time). I grabbed a 7-10 second drink of water at the drinking fountain and hauled butt back onto the trail.

The first 1/3 of the second round trip was rough. My legs felt dead and I wasn't sure if I was moving quickly or not. In my mind, I was flying, but somehow, in reality, it didn't seem so. And so I persisted. About halfway up, something clicked and strength returned: I begin finding rest on the gentler slopes. About 2/3 of the way up I passed a guy that I had passed on the way down on the first round trip. He commented, "You are making this old guy look bad". I responded, "Well sir, I am not feeling so good". Which was true and honest and all of that. It was at that time that a slight nausea set in. With roughly 600 feet to go, the end was in sight and it wasn't difficult to push through the feeling of sickness, knowing that the sooner I got to the summit, the sooner I would be resting again on the descent.

I pushed hard on the last ~200 vertical feet, leaving nothing on the table. Which felt good mentally, but not so good physically! Not in a damaging sort of way, but in a sickness sort of way. Fortunately, I never lost my lunch or Clif Shot Bloks. I hit my split on the summit: 1 hour 8 minutes 36 seconds. Whoa! I was extremely surprised. Mostly that I hit a 27 minute 9 second second round trip. It felt like hours!

Eager to feel better, I quickly began my descent. Within a couple of minutes, the nausea subsided enough to take my final Shot Bloks. Honestly, I brought these less because I needed them and more because they are freaking delicious (thanks Phil!). I am snacking on them as I write this in the comfort of my home. Anyways, I moved swiftly and steadily downhill to the final track of AWOLNATION's 'Megalithic Symphony' eager to click stop on my watch. I smiled at the 'old guy' as I passed him for the second time on the way down.

I hit the trailhead for the second time and stopped my watch: 1 hour 25 minutes 40 seconds. Whoa! I was beside myself. I was really hoping for under two hours and after the first round trip settled on the 1:30-40 range, but this. It was nice to be surprised! Very nice.

And so hear I sit, writing about something that happened 2 hours ago and means little to anyone else. Truthfully, it means only un poco to me. Life is about living and this is one way to live. It includes meaningful relationships, fulfilling work, a healthy soul, love and ambitious, enjoyable goals. I had a blast and hope that everyone else is finding their Mount Sentinels these days!

Onward and upward!

Some days the mountain leans back

Some days the mountain leans back, lies down gently and grants those who venture onto its slopes ease of travel. The trail appears a nearly horizontal traverse, whose view magically sweetens with each step;

On certain days the mountain lies in repose, as if to say, "today, I will rest and bear the burden of your sojourn". Continuing, the mountain adds, "consider this your rest and enjoy the journey".

On several occasions this year - and countless throughout my life - I have had moments in the mountains where the mountain has the appearance and the feeling of 'leaning back' and lessening its slope's angle. This may be an illusion: whose to say that the lower slope angle is not the norm and on most days the slope has the appearance and feeling of being steeper.

It is probably all an illusion! What is measurable and constant is the slope's actual angle. My favorite trail on Mount Sentinel rises about 2000 vertical feet in 1.2 miles, a fairly steep trail. As a rule, this particular trail's required effort seems commensurate with its steepness. But on certain days - and today was one of these - the mountain truly has the appearance of lying back and lessening its slope angle, allowing for a less intense effort that yields the same results.

The reason(s) for this phenomenon (and that's a stretch) may seem obvious: variables in daily diet/hydration, sequence in a work out cycle, mood, time constraints, etc. All of these things certainly play a role in overall fitness and point-in-time health and performance, but do not explain the visual appearance of the slope.

Today, the trail presented itself modestly, looking half itself while providing fully rewarding pleasant and easy passage. And I will examine no further.

Thank you, mountain.

Onward and upward,

Brian

300,000 feet and Mount Sentinel

A  quiet moment for a fellow hiker on top of Mount Sentinel.

Today's 96th ascent of Mount Sentinel on the year, marked the 300,000 vertical foot milestone for 2013.

Ascent: 27 minutes
Descent: 28 minutes
Temp: ~82 degrees
Music: Vampire Weekend 'Modern Vampires of the City' and Sigur Ros 'Untitled'
Highlight: Finding my lost bike lock key hanging on the fence at the base of mountain Sentinel upon coming down the mountain.

That is all. Onward and upward!

Brian

24 Hours of Sinopah Mountain (in pictures)

Linds and I made our way up to Glacier National Park for an extended Labor Day Weekend. Over the course of 3.5 days we hiked over 40 miles of the park, logging over 9,000 vertical feet. Glacier did not disappoint! What beauty! Our last night in the park was spent at Two Medicine Lake in the southeast corner of the park. The inclement weather of the previous two days beginning moving out, providing some super cool changes in light.

The following pictures were taken during a 24 hour period at Two Medicine Lake (shown in the order that they were taken). The model? Sinopah Mountain!

Onward and upward!

Trip Report: Point Six and Murphy Peak

Trailhead: Snowbowl Ski Area parking lot (~5,000')
High Points: 'Point 7500', 'Point Six' (7942') and 'Murphy Peak' (8167')
Total Elevation Gain: 5,000 feet
Duration: 3 hours 23 minutes (round trip)

I got onto the mountain around 8AM via Snowbowl Ski Area. Although there is an established trail to the top of the Ski Area (~ 4 miles), I opted for the most direct route to the top of Snowbowl. From the top of Snowbowl, point 7500, I would then head up to 'Point Six' and finally 'Murphy Peak' by way of the connecting ridge between the two (and then a reversal of the route).

Looking south/southwest from the top of Snowbowl
(parking lot lower left)

Departing at 7:55AM from the parking lot, I followed the 'Runout' run for the first 3/4 of a mile before taking a hard left up a steep glade run on the crest of the rib that marks the western edge of 'West Bowl'. The line provides a direct shot to the top of Snowbowl. By this route, I bushwhacked my way through knee high vegetation interspersed with beautiful coniferous trees. About 700 feet below the summit, lush undergrowth gave way to an expansive talus field - rocks roughly the size of basketballs or larger. What a treat! It provided, without exception, a stable, direct and swift passage to the top. Within a few minutes of discovering the talus 'super highway' I was on top of Snowbowl Ski Area. I was very pleased to see that the clock read 8:39AM, about 45 minutes from bottom to top.

From Snowbowl, I headed northeast via a ski run to the broad connecting ridge to Point Six. I opted for the most direct ridge road. A few minutes later I was standing amongst the radio towers and doppler radar that is Point Six. There I encountered a woman walking around the summit taking photos. She explained that she was with a crew that had driven up to Point Six to do some repair work on the HAM radio setup. We both made remarks about the beauty that surrounded us from our lofty perch above Missoula and the Rattlesnake Wilderness. I suggested that on the clearest day, Flathead Lake might be visible from this vista. Unsure of the veracity of this, she responded "maybe" and I concurred as I rethought the possibility of Flathead Lake actually being visible from this far south.

Looking north to Murphy Peak from Point Six
(Murphy Peak is the high point right of center)

After parting ways with the HAM radio enthusiast, I took a 1-2 minute break on the summit of 'Point Six' to mix an electrolyte drink mix and pull out a granola bar for the road. Feeling strong and fired up about the next objective, Murphy Peak, I dropped down the boulder field that defines the north shoulder of Point Six. Point Six and Murphy Peak are connected by a roughly two mile-long undulating ridge that dips down to 7500' with one prominent point on the ridge between the two named peaks. Amazingly, just above saddle between Point Six and the prominent ridge point ahead, a wilderness registration box materialized. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere with no real defined trail it was somewhat baffling. I quickly registered and followed what appeared to be more of a game trail than a manmade hiking trail. "Hey Bear! Hey Bear!" was my loud, audible mantra for the day (I did not so much as see bear scat). After about 1/2 mile I lost the game trail and headed for the crest of the ridge. Within a few minutes, I found myself on top of the prominent point that marks the halfway point between Point Six and Murphy Peak.

Self-portrait looking north on Murphy Peak

I let out a joyful 'Whoop!' as the next expanse of ridge opened up between myself and Murphy Peak's summit. The ridge narrowed and, at times, steepened amidst a jumbled mess of massive granite slabs. It looked super fun!

I quickly made my way down the ridge point to the final little saddle that marks the beginning of the summit cone of Murphy Peak. I stashed my trekking poles about 400 feet below the top as the ridge steepened and forced some quick and easy scrambling moves. A final move through a narrow slot in the rock gave way to the final talus field of Murphy Peak. Moments later I was standing on top with joy in my heart! The clock read 9:39AM, exactly one-hour after getting to the top of Snowbowl and 1 hour and 45 minutes from my car. I was extraordinarily pleased with this time, as I was aiming for something of a lung/quad-busting speed ascent.

I took a 3-5 minute break on top of Murphy Peak to rehydrate, take some food and electrolytes and snap some photos as well. It was so dang pretty up there! The panorama included a view of the Rattlesnake Wilderness, Missoula, the northside of Snowbowl, Point Six, the southern reaches of Arlee, the southern end of the Mission Mountains and the Grant Creek complex.

Hydrated and nourished, I donned my pack and began the long retrace of the connecting ridge back to the top of Point Six and down to the SnowBowl Ski Area. I did my darndest to retrace my line down Snowbowl. About 1/3 of the way down, I saw a mountain biker athwart my direct descent, enjoying a leisurely solo cruise in the mountains. Beautiful stuff. I regained the runout on the bottom 1/3 of the mountain and cruised on down to the parking lot. I arrived at my car at 11:18AM. Gosh, still morning! what a nice surprise.

Overall, this route goes down as one of my favorite local hikes. The connecting ridge between Point Six and Murphy Peak is pretty dang fun and the views from atop those two high points are spectacular.

Onward and upward,

Brian

July in review and lessons learned

Photo of the month: Linds and I on the summit of Pikes Peak (07/06/2013)

Just the facts:

Total ascent: 36,500 vertical feet

Mountain summits: 

Mount Sentinel (11 summits)

Pikes Peak

Mount Deanstone

Mitten Mountain

Mount Jumbo

Now the fluff:

A note on vertical feet or elevation gain. I use vertical feet as my primary indicator of success in terms of this project. Vertical feet measures the distance from the base of something to the top of something "as the balloon rises". With mountains, we are talking base to summit. If you to climb a ladder vertically, straight through the middle of the mountain from base to summit, you would be tracking the vertical feet measurement. To give you a sense of scale, The Empire State Building rises an impressive 1,454 vertical feet. The average level of a home is ~10 vertical feet. That coffee, sitting on your table, comes in at about ~3 vertical feet (floor to tabletop). Mount Sentinel, the mountain I spend a bulk of my time training on, comes in at just under 2,000 vertical feet (1,950ish). Pikes Peak boasts about 7,800 vertical feet. Vertical feet simply gives you a vertical measure of two points and does not account for the elevation. 

July was a banner month. January was the last month that I hit 36,500 vertical feet of ascent or more (62,700 feet). I learned many lessons from January's efforts. The most important being that 60,000 feet a month or more is not tenable for my body or social life. Post-RA me simply isn't up to the task and post-Linds me simply doesn't want to throw myself headlong into a futile endeavor to the determent of our relationship. In February, I dropped steeply to 36,350 feet and continued dropping to the low 20,000s through May. By June, I was ramping back up to the 30-40,000 foot range, right where I want to be. 

Truth to tell, I am feeling really good. My mind continues to be my biggest enemy. Pre-RA, I had very little respect for the recovery needs of my body. In 2008, I ran, on average, 18 miles/day with a smile on my face (a little over 6000 miles for the year). I dismissed all aches and pains outright. Post-RA, I am hopeless when it comes to aches, pains, twangs, twinges, pops, cracks and creaking. When I feel a slight twinge in my knee when going from a seated to standing position or hear a pop in my shoulder when stretching, my tendency is to leap to the worst case scenario: it's over, there is a good chance I will never be able to walk or climb again. Honest, objective discernment over real or perceived problems with RA is, in my estimation, the single greatest challenge of dealing with the disease. It is amazing how emotional physical aches and pains can become. I have tons to learn in this area. "Remain calm! Don't panic!" These are my mantras in times of broken focus. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. 

Our brains are extremely powerful organs often controlling physical outputs - pain, illness - through thought inputs - worries, anxieties.

Prayer remains the greatest tool in working through these times: the very act of prayer calms and quiets the mind and allows for honest analysis and a sense of correctitude regarding the ultimate course of action. Linds has been alongside me as I rediscover my prayer life. Prayer, in my life, is an opportunity to acquiesce that many things lie out of my control and no amount of worry or misguided focus can change that. It is a time to cede control to a higher power (whatever that means to you) and say "I don't know what is happening, I don't have the answers and that is 'okay'!". And then move on: let go and let God (not sure who first said that, but it's a good one).

Onward and upward,

Brian