Birthday Blog - the 47th year

So, time for some catch up.  What did I do with my 47th year?

Easiest place to start is physical.  I had a pretty big year.  In October I did the tough mudder with people from my Crossfit Box (rather, what was my CF Box).  But, as I mentioned, I found it neither challenging enough nor satisfying.  So, with no prep I decided to run a 1/2 marathon two weeks after the Mudder.  I made it straight through in 2:10:43 - without stopping.  I was comfortable the whole way and felt lucky that Rush's song, Marathon, came on my player with a couple of miles to go.  I listened to it 2-3 times as I ran the last miles.

I focused on Crossfit more intently after that with an eye towards making the Master's team at my box for the Sactown Throwdown competition.  However, in tryouts I was roundly dissapointed because I couldn't do the qualifying movements of 135# squat snatches or deficit handstand push ups.  Turns out that the better folks were on the team and when I saw the comp I realized that I wasn't fit enough to be competing at that level.  Still, it was very dissapointing and took a lot of my fire away.

In March I competed in the Crossfit open.  One workout a week for 5 straight weeks.  I can say with confidence that it was the hardest physical and psychological thing I've ever done.  Physically I was wrecked from week to week.  For example, after week #2's workout (snatches of increasing weight) - I literally couldn't lift my arms to put my belt on, or to turn the wheel on my car.  It was like that (with different body parts) every week.  Attendant was the knowledge each week that I was going to subject myself to massive pain.  That gets in your head and is tough.  Still, I'm proud that I finished all the workouts.  I came 869th place workwide (out of 1600+) for my age range.

http://games.crossfit.com/athlete/21374

Since then I've been maintaining, working on skills.  I can now do handstand push ups, and double unders, and snatches. Still, I'm not sure I can do squat snatches.  Have to work on those.

Personally, it's been a tough year.  Kira and I separated about 15 months ago and are now divorcing.   However, the kids are good. My sister moved away so at this moment I don't have any kind of a support system withing 120 miles of me.  I'll be working on this in the coming year.

Professionally things are going well.  Matheson has been very good to me this year and in turn I've been able to deliver a lot of value.  As I write this I have a 3 year employment contract sitting on the desk of the owner that is supposed to be signed this coming week.  This would not only represent serious security but is the hallmark of being at a place in life where I'm valued for what I can contribute economically.

(Never seem to have enough white board space!)


Of course, as I get older it seems my brain doesn't work as well.  So, academically there is not much to report.  I haven't learned any new languages, or mastered any new skills.  I play a lot of poker, and am decent, but that's really just a pass time.  One of my challenges for the coming year is to develop some new skills and reengage my brain.

I tried indoor surfing recently and really like it (though it's hard).  While I'm far from the ocean I've always wanted to surf and am thinking that I want to work on this in the coming year.

I didn't have any real vacation or go anywhere and this needs to be fixed.

Yikes - as I read over this I see that I have been focused pretty much only on Crossfit this year to the exclusion of any other development.  While that has corrected an imbalance and I'm the fittest I've ever been in my life I can see that I need to re-balance things.

Let's see how big I can make the big 48th year.

Tough Mudder

Team ARCfit in the Squaw parking lot before the race.

I signed up to do a 'race' with my Crossfit box 'American River Crossfit.' We had something like 24 people sign up, but most were using our team code to get a discount. There were about 10 of us from the box.

I took a sleeping pill at 8:30, went to bed at 9 and woke up at 3AM - it worked! I drowsed for 45 minutes and then got up to get ready. I'm big on being prepared for events like this so I had everything lined up, had a check list, etc. I'd packed the night before and put my bag in my car, had direction printed out and put on my carseat - well, you get the picture. I was very fortunate that I was able to catch a ride with the rest of the team. I got to Mel's house (our team captain) at 5AM - a full 1/2 hour early. The van arrived at 5:30 sharp, we piled in and away we went. After a quiet and uneventful ride up we stopped at McDonalds near Squaw for a pee break and were shocked when we stepped outside and it was 39 degrees! I threw on all the clothing I had and was fine, but was worried about the race.



The race (I keep using that word because 'event' or 'thing' is clumsy, and there is no clock and no prize other than the T-shirt (and glorious orange 80's headband) and knowing that you completed it)) went off at 9:11AM (saw a starter timer) after a great version of the National Anthem.


The first part is just a run/hike up maybe 500 feet or so where you come to the first real obstacle - a barbed wire water crawl. The wire is set 8 inches above the water, so you have to lay down and push yourself ahead with hands and feet (too low for knees). Of course you get completely soaked in the very cold water - which was the point. It wasn't too bad - I found it exhilarating.


(From Wisconsin - ours was like this, just a pool of water instead of mud)

There were some break ups and delays (there had been a big line and long wait at the obstacle) but the team caught up and we continued up. And up, and up. The first half of the course is mostly hiking up the peaks of Squaw valley. Anyway, there was a steep section called 'The death march" (they live for hyperbole) which was a steep-ish climb. I was well matched with Mel, Jason and Terry as we naturally moved at the same brisk pace. They a tad brisker than me. At the top of the death march was ‘the Chernobyl jacuzzi’ – this turned out to be my favorite obstacle. As we approached we could see a front loader dumping a full load of snow into the pool. Basically, it’s a pool, 20 feet long, full of ice water. The surface was literally covered in ice cubes. There is a wall in the middle so you HAVE to go under to traverse it. Because my legs were worked from the climb getting in basically felt okay, but going under and swimming was a new world of ‘wow.’ Under, you think your breath will explode – when you come to the surface you are still hyperventilating and your limbs are slow – you just can’t get out of there fast enough! Once out, it’s whooping and hollering and smiles and the pure joy of being alive! Try it sometime – it’ll wake you up baby!


After a few minutes for everyone to catch up, shake the water out and catch their breath, we ran up the rest of the way to High Camp.

The next obstacle was a ½ pipe from the snow park that took real teamwork to surmount. There was a huge crowd and we were making no progress so after 10-15 minutes we opted (tough decision – I wanted to go the hard way but wanted to be with the team more) to use the route on the side that had a couple pieces of wood nailed in to speed you along (they added these after Saturday – apparently the lines grew too long). Meanwhile there were spectators eating burgers and watching us.


So, then we run up the mountain more to another favorite, the monkey bars. These were across a 25 foot pool (again of cold water – wherever I mention water remember it’s wicked cold (39 degrees when I arrived…yikes!)). The monkey bars go up to a peak and then descend – not like at grammar school. So too, the bars aren’t fixed and actually rotate under your hand. I was comfortable on them and made it across – my long arms and Crossfit pullups helped me along. Sadly, the rest of my team wasn't so lucky - they all fell in. Two of the gals got very close to making it before slipping.


Across from that was a 15 foot rope climb (very easy), and a set of 12 foot walls. The walls were fun because they required real team work. Here I was able to be handy because I had long arms I could reach down and haul people up. It was fun.




Then more hiking and running. First to the top of Emigrant peak. Up there, they had a net that was very low to the ground (snow). You had to squirm under on hands and knees as it pushed you to the ground. But it turned out that it wasn’t so bad because a few folks inside helped hold it up for everyone. That was the spirit of the day - help each other out.


Then a descent down to an obstacle with a field of logs that you go over (5 feet high) and under (8 inches) like a boot camp obstacle course.




Next was a big climb to the top of Squaw Peak (8200 feet). Astonishing views all around. Because I had climbed Castle two weeks prior and enjoy mountaineering this was in my wheel house and I felt really comfortable and happy. At the peak I felt terrific and so at the next obstacle I dug in. It was a log carry. Basically, pick up a log carry it down 125 yard route and back up. I found the biggest log they had – 200 pounds at least, and carried it with Jason – my running partner for the day. The terrain was slippery but for some reason I loved it, eventually taking on more and more of the weight. He was beat from the climb and we had to drop it a few times but he never complained at my craziness.


Next there was a long downhill run. Maybe 1.5 miles to the lake, my next favorite obstacle. This was just great. You jump off a high platform (20 feet) into the cold water below, come up, swim over to a series of barrels that you have to go under, and then swim to shore. One of my water bottles popped up under water but I was able to snap it back on and swim away. I swam freestyle, head up and was solid, but still, wanted to jam through it to get out. It was cold enough that you sort of start hyperventilating the second you come up for air - kind of a scary feeling. So, I went straight to the barrels, straight under them, and swam and got out. Most people were hanging on the barrels, waiting to go under, cold, getting stuck, etc. The guys in Kayaks were fishing a lot of people out. It was crazy!




Jason came out of the lake (He lost his glasses on this obstacle yet, like the champ he is, ran the rest of the course basically blind (20/200 vision)) and after some water at the aid station said he wanted to run to warm up so I agreed and we ran down to the most unpleasant obstacle – the sewer pipes. They are small, so a guy my size had to inch along like a caterpillar using my elbow and stomach to pull my legs along. The bottom was full of very sharp rocks that cut my arms up pretty good and the end of the first pipe and beginning of the second required me to go under water and pull myself through (the pictures must be from the day before because my pipe ends were only one inch from being completely submerged). The second pipe was a bit scary as I pulled myself in , under water, but had a long way to go till I could raise my head to breath. But it worked out fine and was just painful/ annoying.

Running Partner Jason at the Start.






There were other obstacles and another peak to climb, but they were minor and mostly from this point on it was about mountain running. 6 miles, mostly downhill. The running itself felt pretty easy and comfortable, but it was still a challenge because almost no one was running, they were walking and thus were moving obstacles to go around. However, it was kind of a fun game and I enjoyed running the full distance.

At the end there were three final obstacles. A crawl (in my case) across a cargo net, then a walk on a balance beam over water, then the run through the electrical wires. Jason and I waited after the cargo net for the rest of our team (we were the first down) because we wanted to cross together with our entire team. About 10 minutes later some more of our team arrived. After another 20 minutes we all decided to just go on ahead and finish. I made it about ½ way across the balance beam (30 feet long, 3inches wide) but it was shaking and a guy next to me fell and I got distracted and fell in and got soaked again. The electrical thing, which had been a big topic of concern, strategizing, etcetera turned out to be no big deal. I didn’t get shocked. The wires were far apart. I think I touched one but still nothing. I’m a bit disappointed to tell you the truth.











At the end they give you the ‘totally 80's' Tough Mudder orange headband, and you collect your tshirt, some food stuff and a freshly poured Dos Equis beer (which was good). It was fun to cross with my team and I felt very good.

Even though there were some big delays, lines, etcetera, Jason and I finished in 4:30 - ( 12+ miles, 3000+ vertical feet, 20 obstacles).

The rest of the folks came down over the next ½ hour or so.


At the finish: Refugees from ONJ's 'Let's get Physical' video!

I purchased a hydration belt (with extra bottles) for the event. I had some Gu gels that I ate as well. It was annoying in that the belt kept sliding (once it got wet the belt worked loose) but I was never hungry or thirsty and had great energy through the entire race. Overall I think the annoyance was worth it.

Our team generally agreed that it was fun and we’re glad we did it but we wouldn’t pay to do it again as is. There weren’t enough obstacles. Many that they promised (like the wall of fire, mountain of mud, run through the mud pool, vertical cargo nets) weren’t there . Overall it wasn’t remotely as ‘tough’ as it was billed - just a nice run/hike with some fun obstacles. All in all a great day.

A day to remember

(Photo note: The end before the start)

So, I've been training very hard for months. At first, I was just trying to get stronger and improve my overall fitness. As time progressed, I realized that I was doing a substantial amount of work: My typical workouts were an hour of weights followed by an hour of cardio. I’d break the cardio up into 3 or 4 different exercises to avoid boredom etcetera. So, about 8 weeks ago I realized that if I tried I could likely complete a triathlon. I’d wanted to do one for a long time, but the bone spur in my heel made running to painful. Thanks to Nike’s Max Air shoes, I can run without pain.

In the course of working on my fitness I lost 30 pounds of fat and put on about 5 pounds of muscle. Running with less weight must make a difference as well.

I’m terrible about spending money on myself and was going to take a pass because of the cost of entry and Kira went ahead and signed me up anyway! At that point I was committed.

I took it seriously (surprise) – went on youtube to study transition strategies, how to put on a wetsuit to maximize shoulder mobility, etcetera.

It really helped.

(Photo note: Not my racing set up - just got there)

In the course of my training I got to the point where I was training at race distances. For example, I’d do a 15 mile bike ride followed by a 3 mile run – just like the race. This gave me a lot of confidence.
As mentioned, I did rent a wetsuit, and at the last minute a bike as well. The $40 I spent on the bike saved me about 15 minutes compared to my mountain bike.

On race day, I got there pretty early – no lines for body marking, and I got an aisle for the bike and to set up my transition area. Though I didn’t feel nervous, I clearly was as evidenced by the 3 trips to the porta poties.

I waited until 30 minutes before the start to put on my wetsuit. Kira did a great job helping me and when I got down to the river to swim across to the starting area I felt really good.

As I swam I was focusing on what it was like being in open water – I hadn’t trained for that. The novelty of seeing the weeds under the water, and trying to figure out how often to raise my head to sight where to go (I’d been advised and practiced every 6 strokes).

However, there was some chop, the water was very cold, and by the time I got across I felt woozy. I asked some of the others around me and one suggested that maybe I was seasick. I’d never been motion sick before and didn’t think that was it. Anyway, I had plenty of time to calm down as we waited 15 or so minutes. The first group went off at 9:00 and my wave went off at 9:10. I had aimed to be on the side but ended up kind of in the middle towards the back. They counted down and we were off. I went out at what I thought was a solid but relaxed pace. Problem was I was immediately swimming on top of the person in front of me. So too, I had to raise my head because there was so much commotion. After about 100 yards my chest started to tighten and I had a hard time breathing. I started to panic and swam over to the side, rolled on my back and let everyone pass while I hyperventilated. I was very afraid that my race was over before it had begun. I asked the kayak guy (there to save us) , ‘what is going on? I swim this in 16 minutes?’ He didn’t know, but suggested that I swim to the support structure under the bridge, take a hold and rest for a minute to calm myself. I did and was soon going again, but I couldn’t get myself to stop hyperventilating.

I swam primarily side stroke for the rest of the race. Often going onto my back for a breather. The current was strong against me, and it took some determination. But once I’d figured out how to make progress without increasing my hyperventilating I knew I’d get there eventually.

When I went past the pylon in the middle of the river and started downstream I realized how profound the current was. Basically I could have done nothing and just floated in the wetsuit, getting there eventually. As the end approached I tried again to swim freestyle with minor success. Still, my breathing was overly labored, I was pretty miserable, and couldn’t wait to touch ground. As I did, I immediately went through my transition routine (reach back, undo Velcro, pull cord, pull out arms leaving cap and goggles inside one arm) all while running. As I got to the top of the steps my son was there to cheer me on and after the hardship of the water I was inspired and deeply moved.

He ran next to me to transition. Here again watching the youtube videos and practicing really helped. Take off rest of wetsuit (stomp on opposite leg and use arms to pull it out), put on jersey, sock, shoes, shock shoe, tie shoes. Sunglasses, helmet, buckle and go. I did it in a minute or so and was very happy.

(Photo note: Transition from swim to bike)

I’d rented a trek, 2.1 (I think) for $40 for the day. To me, it seemed light as a feather. I’d practiced the shifting briefly the day before and had no trouble getting going. As I approached the first hill I pulled one of my water bottles because I was so thirsty from the swim. However, I was still shakey and confused and dropped it when I tried to recage it.

Once I was going up on a flat, straight part I had my first “Gu.” It’s fairly gross
Somewhat glue like substance. Mine, recommended by the triathlon guy at “Fleet Feet” was pineapple flavored ‘Rocktane.’ 100 calories that get digested almost instantly. Anyway, based on yet another tip I had taped a couple of these to my handle bars for easy access and so they didn’t get lost. I had also filled my water bottle with 160 calorie crisp apple cliff bar shot – or something like that. Anyway, the Rocktane was sort of like toothpaste but easy to swallow – and it really worked.

Through almost 2 straight hours of cardio I never got tired.

The bike went well, I was really pleased. Transition to run was easy, all I had to do was clip on a little belt with my number on it and take off. As I started, I felt very good. My legs were a little strange – this always happens when you are using running muscles while your biking muscles are pumped with blood. Anyway, I felt smooth. Usually, my hips get a little tight, but not that day. In fact, I can say I don’t remember ever feeling better running. The first aid station was at the mile mark and I did the whole ‘grap a cup of water and down it’ while running thing. It was kinda fun. Once I got to the turn around point, where I knew I only had 1.5 miles left I decided to pick up my pace. My intent being to increase speed till 1 mile left, increase again, and so on until I’m sprinting the last ¼ mile. Again, props to the rocktane (I had some just as I rounded the last turn around point on the bike, figuring 10 or so minutes later I’d be running). Though I went beyond lactate threshold, then into low anaerobic, and finally into seriously anaerobic I felt strong the whole way. I didn’t really know I was in pain.

Until I went under the finish line and stopped running. I went super hard on the final 100 yards and was surprised when I was finished. My momentum carried me forward as I stopped. When I stopped running my body was engulfed in a sea of pain. I was panting and pacing, with a wince and ‘uh, uh, uh’ of pain with every breath. I found myself pacing. My son was the first to find me – he ran up and threw his arms around me. His eyes were shining with a pride I’d never seen in my life. I was overwhelmed with wonder and gratitude. “Dad, you’re a Beast.’ He said.

(Photo note: My group launched 10 minutes after the start so my time is ten minutes less than shown)

Soon, my sister, daughter, wife and finally mother gathered around me to congratulate me and ask about the race. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of caring and connection – it was awesome.

After the wind down we went our separate ways. I headed back to transition to get my bike and things and head off to my car. Then it was a shower, and my mom took us to Mexican food at Ernestos.

What an immensely magical, insanely satisfying day.

(After the race, loading up the car)

Final note: Got my splits. Apparently my swim was faster than I thought. They don't separate out transitions from the bike - seem to lump it all in. Here's a link to the results:

http://tbfracing.com/results/results/2009/goldenstate/gstritroverall.html

Overall place: 220 Paul O'Donnell, 45. M, Clydesdale (this is my category, men over 205lbs.) swim: 0:22:13. place 250, bike 0:58:32, place 216, Run 0:28:03, place 225, overall time 1:48:48

The value of misery

So, two weeks after my leg surgery, I finally got up the gumption to try to climb Pyramid Peak via the Rocky Creek Canyon route. I knew the math of it was daunting: 4250 vertical feat over 3.3 miles (that's just to the top) - the highest vertical climb in the Tahoe Sierras. I started putting it into frames: hmmm, that's 1.5 times as high as El Cap, that's like hiking the Yosemite falls trail 3 times in a row ... Ouch!

So, I get up at 8:30, finally get on the road by 9:30 after Gas, Starbucks, etcetera. When I arrive in the general area between Strawberry and Twin Bridges I start looking for the semi-hidden start to the route. Of course, I miss it on the first run but as I'm going back down hill see some cars parked in a small pull out and figure it must be around there somewhere - no other reason to park.

I had read that there was a hubcap attached to the rock near the start of the route, but there wasn't. Instead, I saw some spray paint and thought that might be it. Relentless steepness and small cairns proved the path. The entire trail took some route finding ability and faith, especially the top. However, the good climbers of the Sierra were kind enough to set and maintain a series of cairns, so I never got off route.

The lower valley, from the road to the rim, is across the highway from Lover's Leap. I knew the Leap was a few hundred feet high, and so tried to get a sense of my progress by measuring its comparative size. It quickly got smaller.

There are some beautiful falls in the spring and I stopped for a minute or two to look around. However, I couldn't allow myself to get into a frame of mind that wasn't about motion. I was using my old Sugar Bowl blue pole like an ice axe, and used my upper body to help me up in many sections. Interestingly, as I was climbing I never thought it was particularly steep, it was only on the decent that I kept saying, 'I came up this?!'


At that top of the canyon, there is of course a break in the trees, you see the sky and start thinking, "I wonder how much farther?" I had no sense of the mountain - you can't see the peak from the route until you are out of the canyon. So, I was tremendously excited when I could finally see the peak. In the altitude (more about that later) the distance was foreshortened and I thought, hmm, maybe an hour to the top.

Ha.

So, the snow begins. Patchy reminder to keep my feet as dry as possible. Gortex doesn't do much good when the snow comes in tops of your shoes. Anyway, route finding in the upper two thirds becomes more challenging, but the general idea of 'go up to the top' kind of straightens things out. About 1/2 way up the route, you finally cross the creek and from then on stay on the left side all the way up to the summit. (I think - there is a snow melt creek you cross but I don't think it's the same thing on the upper slope.)

I finally meet the first people of the day on the upper section of the route, before crossing over to the summit pyramid. Two ridiculously fit 20 year olds with a modicum of misery in their eyes. They wish me a good climb and depart downward. All in all, there are only 6 people (besides me) on the route that day. I don't know how many came up the Rocky Creek canyon route. As I get on the final, truly evil, talus slope leading the last 500 feet to the top I'm joined by someone. When we get to the top we exchange cameras for some photos and he tells me he is from San Jose and that he came up the Horsetail Falls route - a greater distance but much less steep.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Crossing the upper section of the summit pyramid is very windy - maybe 40 miles per hour, and very cold. My hand are nearly numb. I find myself climbing up the ridge side of the talus slope - thinking I can avoid some of the wind - and the boulders are very big - maybe 3-4 feet high. This make the going very hard. By this point I am miserable exhausted. My lungs and general energy seem okay (gaspy and paralytic, but okay), but my legs and particularly my right gluteus are destroyed. They were killed off by the lower canyon climb. I keep thinking how stupid I am to imagine climbing 5.7 on the east face of Whitney, at 14,000 feet is going to be easy. Here I am at 10,000 and heaving for breath every 5 steps. I now realize that I was complete glycogen depleted at this point and If I'd eaten more it wouldn't have hurt so bad. However, I had no hunger. (I later learned that I burned something like 6,000 calories over the course of the day).

Hard to describe the feeling of the talus slope. Very cold, very windy. Incredible views - though I didn't look around much. I was too focused on just getting to the top, knowing I'd enjoy the view there. Moreover, the summit truly blocks all sense of a view of the other side, so when you get to the summit and see the view it is both arresting and breathtaking.


There is a USGS marker, and a little pyramid.



Like so many, I felt great triumph at having climbed to the top. When I looked down, I could see that 300 foot high Lovers Leap was a tiny mound on the horizon. Man,that's a long way down. Again, both astonishment and disbelief. I'm 44, weigh 250 pounds, and climbed it in about 3 hours and 30 minutes. If I take out breaks, call it 3 hours and 15 minutes of straight aerobic output.


I'm not sure how to think about it.

I figured 2 hours for the decent, and it turns out I was right. What I hadn't counted on was the misery.

When I train, it's the climbing muscle groups that get the work - inclined hiking, stairmaster, etcetera. There doesn't seem to be a way to train the quadriceps (and calves) for the punishment of deep downhill climbing on a gym machine.

The first part probably screwed me up the worst. Going down the talus slope mean jumping down on one, off balance leg, 2-4 feet per step. That's just too much impact for me to shake off I guess.

I felt wicked tired, but mostly made my way down fairly quickly. It was steep, and there was a lot of ankle challenging twists and turns, but I don't remember, at that point, feeling very bad.

When I finally crossed the river and started down that canyon proper the angle increased dramatically. Suddenly, I could feel that my legs were getting wobbly. I started to feel some anxiety because I knew I still had a long way to go and each step was getting to be hard. I soon found a walking stick and realized two would be even better. I used them with every step and now think I'd still be up there if I hadn't found them. I was able to transfer a lot of weight onto my arms and they provided much needed stability. At this point, I started to feel what marathoners call ' the bonk' - total glycogen depletion. My legs were getting to where they wouldn't obey my thoughts. That was very scary. It was too steep to really rest - at most I would stop, heave for breath (going downhill no less!) and then quickly move on. I had a real fear that if I actually sat down that the muscles in my legs would sieze. So it continued all the way down. I kept pushing on while simultaneously begging for it to end. I just wanted to get down.

I remember reading Joe Simpson's book, 'Touching the Void' where he said that while he was struggling for life on his decent, that he said the most insipid pop songs kept going through his mind. Here too, I had the cheezy Will Smith's 'Welcome to Miami - Bienvenido a Miami' running through my head.

Too weird.

Anyway, I finally got down to the road. I hobbled across and on down to my car. I was so tired that I collapsed on the hood. Just then my wife called. Great timing.


I took a picture of my exhausted face after I stretched (I feared siezing muscles on the car ride home).

Overall, 8500 vertical feet over 6.6 miles in 6 hours.


I seriously question whether I'll every do that again, but I'm glad I did it at least once.