The importance of taking a mental break from “the grind” (I always hated that expression since nothing in your life should feel like “a grind”, but use it since it illustrates the point well) shouldn’t be overlooked. Often times we get caught up on our every day routine– including our dedication to our training– that sometimes we forget to take a step back and spend some time doing other things. I always recommend making sure you build in quality active recovery into your training and your life. Active recovery doesn’t just mean giving your body a chance to recover, but also your mind. Giving yourself a mental break during the course of your training is absolutely critical in keeping you fresh and energized for continuing to build for future performance.
This past week, I took a bit of time away from my usual routine and spent a week in the White Mountains of New Hamsphire skate sking, downhill skiing and ice climbing with some friends I haven’t seen in a while and my family. In fact, the best part of the whole week was getting my 4 year old and 2 year old on skis (both nordic and alpine) for the first time — the big smiles they had on their faces the whole time was most rewarding to see as a dad (especially a dad who has high athletic hopes for his kids!). Here’s a funny video of my two year old, Marco, enjoying his first time ever on skis:
As I always like to tell my athlete’s: retain the playful outlook and ambition of a kid and you can do anything!
I did manage to get 4 days of skiing and 3 days of ice climbing in– a great way to vary up my training from the normal swim, bike, and running I do the rest of the time. Skate ski conditions were absolutely fantastic at Bretton Woods (it never seems to stop snowing there), but alpine conditions left a lot to be desired at Black Mountain (lack of snow and warm temps definitely took their toll).
The ice conditions, however, were fantastic. One day of ice was spent on Silver Cascade, a relatively easy 4-5 pitch alpine climb in Crawford Notch. Normally it’s not possible to climb the ice in Silver Cascade due to sheer volume of snow, but we hit the conditions just right with little snow, so we went for it. Here’s a glimpse of the start of the climb:
The rest of the week I reconnected with some ice climbing partners that I hadn’t seen in a while and got some steeper routes in. Cave Route in Frank’s Amphitheater was fat, so Frank Ferucci, Paul Segal and I jumped on that.
Gary on Cave Route
Finally, towards the end of the week, Paul and I hooked up with Laura Russo and Ed Medina (who I hadn’t climbed with since 2002 or so– hard to believe), both of whom were getting on ice for the first time of the season. Champney Falls (a large waterfall gorge off of New Hampshire’s famous Kancamagus Highway) seemed to be the best place to go to get their legs under them and to work on some more vertical ice to help build up strength. We had a great day climbing for several hours, ascending several hundred vertical feet of grade 4 to 4+ ice. Good news: Laura and Ed had a great time and I could feel myself getting stronger as the day progressed– all in all, my strongest day out for the season.
I’m looking forward to getting more skiing and climbing in as the waning days of the winter approach. Late February and March, with the longer days and deep frozen conditions, represent some of the best days of the winter to be out. Get out and climb, hike, ski or do whatever sport that you enjoy and that allows you to take a step back from your normal routine. You’ll feel re-energized and ready to continue to take your training to the next level.
I’ve started a series called “Ascending Athletes”, which features people achieving great things in their lives and/or impacting the lives of others through athletics. I’m featuring athletes of all backgrounds, sports and skill levels. Everyone has a story to tell– whether a recreational or beginner just starting to work out or a hardcore athlete who is competing at an elite level. The goal of the Ascending Athlete series is to capture these stories and inspire others to seek similar challenges and rewards. If you would like to share your story or would like to nominate someone as an Ascending Athlete, please let me know. For more information about Ascend Sports Conditioning, visit our website.
Marek L. Biestek
Marek flying high
I met Marek L. Biestek through Jessica Valenzuela and the auspices of the social media networks. Marek is yet another great example of an Ascending Athlete taking his athletics to the next level through kiteboarding, as demonstrated through his kiting adventures and avid support for Just Kite It dot com, a content website and community dedicated to the kiting lifestyle, launched on January 13, 2010. Marek is also the General Manager and Principal of a startup hedgefund in New York City, MSMB Capital Management LLC.
Marek was kind enough to answer a few questions and help explain what makes him an Ascending Athlete:
Why are athletics important to you?
Fitness has always been important to me since my mid-teens. I think everyone knows or at least accepts the fact that athletics has a positive impact on one’s life mentally, physically and emotionally. Getting a great workout in, whether it’s at the gym, or an outdoor individual/team sport is very rewarding at the end of the day. It helps you get a great night of sleep, feel better about the physical shape you are in and makes you feel successful in different ways than a career and money do. Some people are happy with a sedentary lifestyle, but I can’t comprehend how sitting in front of a television and snacking could be enjoyable when there is wind and snow to tend to outside. Staying athletic during your life will also extend your enjoyable life by many years, make you happier, and keep you on less on those pharmaceutical grade supplements your doctor might otherwise recommend.
What sports do you participate in?
I have been snowboarding for probably seven to eight years and kiteboarding for almost three. I was very much into mountain biking for at least a decade but less so in the past five years. I enjoy running and weightlifting at the gym when I can’t get out to something more active.
What is your major athletic goal(s)and/or events you are participating in for this year? Why have you chosen this goal(s)?
My main goal for this year is progressing at kiteboarding to an expert level. I’d like to start to comfortably doing kiteloops and riding unhooked and doing unhooked tricks. I love the sport and would like to maximize my potential while doing it. It is easy to get complacent in terms of progression at any sport once you are over the learning curve. When you begin learning kiteboarding, you are forced to try to get up on the board and ride with many failures in between. Once you have acquired riding skills, the push to get to the next level doesn’t feel as pressing as you aren’t constantly failing. I sometimes have trouble with hesitation and taking things to the next level. Imperfect riding conditions in my area do not make it easy to progress, but they are a challenge rather than an impasse. My secondary goal is to begin training for a distance running event, beginning with a half marathon, eventually leading up to a full marathon within the next 1-2 years.
What are some future goal(s) or event(s) you’d like to participate in?
My future goal at some point is to complete and Ironman. It will take some great challenges in terms of training and time management but it will happen somehow. I intend to start small with some half-marathons, then marathons, triathlons, etc. Once I can complete a marathon in 3 hours I will continue to raise the stakes, and hopefully this happens within 3 years from now. If I happen to progress in kiteboarding much more rapidly than I think I can, I would love to enter some sort of amateur competition, perhaps something local.
Marek always seems to be flying!
What impact has your athletics had on the lives of others?When someone accuses me of not being able to sit still and it is in reference to sports, I take it as a compliment. The direct impact of my athletics on some of my friends has been their conversion into the same passions I share. I have never been a kiteboarding, or snowboarding instructor but I have mentored some of my friends when it comes to these sports. It is a nice feeling to be asked, “When are we going snowboarding (kiteboarding)?” after it was me who was the first to ask them “When will you try snowboarding (kiteboarding)?”
Sports have also had a positive impact in the people around me in terms of motivating them to be more active in their lives. Sometimes it’s not anything they may say, but small changes that you notice in the way they behave around you. It may be as simple as talking about it or actually enjoying a sport that they before did not really think was for them.
Name one interesting fact or story that makes you unique and interesting
Ever since I was little I was a thinker and a problem solver (maybe more of a problem creator at first). I always was curious about figuring out how the world worked. For example, whenever I received any new toy as a child, instead of playing with it, I picked up a screwdriver and I took it apart to figure out how every little piece inside fit together to make the package work. My room looked like a five year old’s mechanics garage. Anything new and exciting grabbed my attention and still does to this day. For some reason when the automatic transmission failed in my car a few years ago, I refused to have a mechanic fix it and instead I got a hold of all the parts required for a manual transmission that I retrofitted into my car in 25 degree weather in the middle of the winter in my yard (which I eventually broke and I had to fix as well, luckily in the summer). I guess some people might think that is a little extreme (especially my neighbors with me making noise at 3am outside) but despite the cold weather, I found the challenge quite fun and a few weeks later one of my friends had me convert his transmission from automatic to manual.
Kiteboarding and snowboarding are an extension to me of my own curious personality to the partially adrenaline driven interest of pushing myself to the edge of what I can do. It’s about being in control and making a calculated bet on the next decision, whether it’s approaching a jump on the snow or kiting in 40 knot winds, knowing that majority of people out there would not be comfortable doing such things…outside of course…us kiters and snowboarders…
Thanks to Marek for his spirit of adventure and for sharing his story!
I’ve started a series called “Ascending Athletes”, which features people achieving great things in their lives and/or impacting the lives of others through athletics. I’m featuring athletes of all backgrounds, sports and skill levels. Everyone has a story to tell– whether a recreational or beginner just starting to work out or a hardcore athlete who is competing at an elite level. The goal of the Ascending Athlete series is to capture these stories and inspire others to seek similar challenges and rewards. If you would like to share your story or would like to nominate someone as an Ascending Athlete, please let me know. For more information about Ascend Sports Conditioning, visit our website.
Nate in his favorite place in the world- hanging mountainside.
Nate Furman
Adventure is a way of thinking and a state of mind. It’s about leaving your cell phone behind, loading up your pack and heading out in the wilderness for mental and physical challenges and an opportunity to connect with the outdoors and share those experiences with others. It’s also about keeping that magic connection alive and well in your everyday, “real” life upon your return from your adventure. Very few people have the opportunity to make adventure their life pursuit. Nate Furman is one of those people. Nate is a Professor at Green Mountain College in Vermont where he teaches outdoor education and actively pursues his own outdoor adventures. I met Nate through ASC, when he reached out to me to help him take his performance to the next level and to make some of his athletic goals a reality. Nate is one of those athletes you just sit back and say “wow” to what he’s accomplished already and what he hopes to do. From competitive mountain biker to hardcore climber to passionate educator who inspires others, Nate epitomizes adventure and what it means to be an Ascending Athlete.
Nate was kind enough to answer a few questions and help explain what makes him an Ascending Athlete:
Why are athletics important to you?
Because doing stuff outside is awesome!!!!! Athletics are one of the few things that combine challenge with bliss. I mean, my work is challenging but only rarely is it blissful. Visiting my family out in California is awesome, but as long as we don’t talk politics it’s not that challenging. Athletics, on the other hand, is right on the intersection of joy and challenge. It’s so much fun and it’s so hard. Athletics have been a place where I’ve been able to establish relationships, and maintain those relationships meaningfully. For me, the social circle gained through athletic participation has always been the most important social circle I’m involved in. It’s the place that inspires me to challenge myself.
In addition, the memories I have of athletics are etched into my brain so much deeper than other memories. I can barely remember the time I graduated college despite the pomp and circumstance. But I can easily recall any of the mountain bike races I’ve ever competed in; how I was feeling, what place I came in, who I competed with, etc.
So for me, getting the best out of life means getting after it through athletic pursuit…and probably not on a treadmill.
What sports do you participate in?
My favorite place on the planet is hanging from a hand jam, looking up at the sky and then the glacier below. I’m fairly addicted to rock climbing; mountaineering and ice climbing are pretty fun, too. The adventure and camaraderie that’s in it is just so much fun.
Climbing expeditions have taken me to Alaska, Peru, Canada, Greenland, Chile, Argentina, and now Vermont! Climbing is a great way to see the world; you get to meet people who are incredibly passionate and about the same thing that you are, and often become instant friends despite language barriers. I’ve climbed with Germans, Japanese, Brazilians, French, Swedes, Peruvians, Chileans, Argentineans, Indians, Thai, Nepalese, Australians, and some folks from a small island off the coast of Europe…I think they call themselves British. The opportunity to share stories (if we can communicate) or just each other’s company is a wonderful way to experience people from different cultures.
I dabble in a bunch of different sports. I was a fairly competent cyclist back-in-the-day, and still love to go for long rides with my wife, either on roads or trails. We participate in races from time to time, most recently the Hampshire 100. I tend to participate in activities that my friends like, so depending on the day and the partner, that might be skiing, running, or kayaking.
What is your major athletic goal(s)and/or events you are participating in this year (2010)? Why have you chosen this goal(s)?
I’m hoping to pass the AMGA Rock Guide Exam in Red Rocks this April. It’s a five day test where examiners assess your technical guiding abilities. I hope that I can get in good enough shape so that the physical challenge isn’t all that challenging.
I’m toying with the idea of doing a triathlon in the Fall. We’ll see what Gary thinks.
But mostly, what I really hope to accomplish, is to climb the Nose on El Capitan (VI, 5.10, C2) and the Regular Northwest Face route on Half Dome (VI, 5.10, C1) in a day in June of 2011. I love climbing long, classic routes, and enjoy doing them in a day. It’s so much fun stepping up to a long route with some water, some food, a rain jacket, climbing gear, and going for it.
I need to get a lot better to have a shot at this!
What are some future goals and events you’d like to participate in?
There are so many things that I want to see and travel to. Right now I’m dabbling with the idea of a ski tour across Greenland, and maybe a bike tour circumnavigating Iceland. I’ll be headed to Alaska in June and the Bugaboos in July, and can’t wait to get on some of the long granite routes that are up there.
What impact has your athletics had on the lives of others?
My relationship with my wife is blessed with time together being active. She loves to run and ski and bike, and she’ll tolerate a little climbing from time to time. The ability to have adventures with her is the highlight of my life. As I write this I’m in Salt Lake City and I can’t wait to get out to Vermont so we can go skiing together.
Name one interesting fact or story that makes you unique and interesting.
My career has always revolved around sharing the outdoors with others. I just completed my PhD at the University of Utah, and am now working as faculty at Green Mountain College. I get to continue sharing the outdoors with undergraduate students, as my job allows me the opportunity to teach future outdoor leaders in the Adventure Education program. It’s a beautiful career, and I’m blessed to have it.
And I have six toes on one foot!
Thanks to Nate for sharing his story and for inspiring others to improve their health & well-being while helping others in the process– he truly is an Ascending Athlete!
Finally, we’ve gotten enough cold temperatures so that ice can finally form here in New England, and we can at long last start giving serious attention to the ice climbing season. Every year the season flies by (it’s only about 12 weeks long– at least here in New England), so making the most of the time is key. Here are five things to do to get the most out of your season:
Climb with a plan- Most climbers I know are recreational climbers and just head out on the weekend with no real plan. They’ve probably mapped out a climb or two they’d like to do, but that’s about as far as they’ve taken it. That’s great if you’re content being recreational climber, but if you’re looking to improve over what you did last climbing season or even in the course of the current season,you need climb with a plan. View the ice climbing season as a ’season within a season’ and plan out specific climbs you’d like to send, then break down the season week by week to progressively build up your workout schedule and skills to achieve those goals. Periodization applies to climbers, just as it does to triathletes or other endurance athletes.
Work on your weaknesses- Often times we’re content just to climb and stick with what we’re good at. You could have the best swing in the world, getting sticks every time with you tools, but when it comes to landing solid feet, you’re just not quite there yet. Take the time to work on your specific weaknesses, perhaps for a set period of time while you’re out climbing. If you don’t, you’re weaknesses will remain weaknesses.
Learn a new skill- Set a goal to learn at least one new snow or ice skill that will serve you well with the type of climbing you like to do. It doesn’t have to be a comprehensive skill set that requires a multi-day class (although doing so is great)– it could be a small skill; something that will add tools to your tool box for the type of climbing you like to do. For instance, if you’re into alpine climbing and you’ve never learned how to build a V-thread, set some time aside to do so.
Explore a new area- No matter how long you’ve been climbing, there’s always someplace new to explore. I’m not necessarily talking about some far away place, but rather right in your backyard. For instance, if you live in New England, there are hundreds of ice climbing routes in a several different areas, each offering their own challenges and little slices of beautiful terrain. Pick one that you’ve never been to before, and go check it out.
Connect with the climbing community- One of the best parts of participating in sports is the enjoyment of doing it with others. It motivates you and gives you people to share learning and experiences with. Climbing is no exception to this, with a vibrant community. One of the unique challenges of climbing is that it requires partners to do (unless you’re a solo climber, in which case think you have other things on your mind), and staying tied into that community so you have climbing partners is key. I’m a huge fan of online networking to link up with folks, but nothing can beat being face to face. A great place to do this (and knock off one or more of the other items I’ve outlined) is at an ice climbing festival. Whether it’s the Mount Washington Ice Festival, Ouray Ice Festival, Festiglace du Quebec, or numerous other festivals around the northeast or the US, make it part of your plan to meet at least one new partner.
Enjoy the winter & take advantage of the ice while it’s here!
Join the conversation with Ascend Sports Conditioning
You’ve probably noticed some changes on the Ascend Sports Conditioning (ASC) website and blog the past few days. Specifically, we’ve added several links to our presence in the social universe, namely Twitter, Facebook, YouTube and Flickr. We’ve also added (and will continue to add) links to other blogs and sites that cover triathlon, climbing and adventure sports, which you can find on the Ascending Higher blog roll. There are so many great sites out there and people writing great articles on training tips, that we’ve tried to highlight the best of the best.
I’ve been fortunate enough to have have had some really great experiences in my life– from expeditions to triathlon races– many of which I’ve written about, but never have posted online (mainly because they were written prior to the widespread use of blogs or common occurence of writing to the web). I figured now is a great time to share some of these stories on Ascending Higher, particularly as we’re waiting for the snow to arrive and searching for some inspiration to plan out some exciting adventures for 2010. I’ll run them as a series of posts, starting with a narrative I wrote about my trip to Peru in July-August 2001 during an expedition to the Cordillera Blanca. I’ll then follow that with write-ups of my climbing trip to the volcanoes of Ecuador in December 2000, my expedition to the Cordillera Real of Bolivia in July-August 2004, trek to Everest Base Camp in March-April of 2000, as well as recaps of my experiences at bike rides (Harpoon’s Brewery to Brewery) and triathlon races (Eagleman, Ralph’s CA Half). I would love to hear your comments and experiences, so please comment on any of the posts!
This first post was written in June 2002, soon after I had completed the 2nd Annual Brewery to Brewery (”B2B”) Ride.
Brewery to Brewery (B2B) Ride: An Epic of a Bike and Her Rider
The sponsor of the B2B ride, Harpoon Brewery
It began innocently enough; a beautiful sunrise over the city of Boston on June 22nd, 2002, as we pulled into the parking lot at the Harpoon Brewery for the 2nd Annual Harpoon Brewery to Brewery ride (“B2B ride”). A sadistic 100 of us had volunteered to subject ourselves to 130 miles (even more sadistic since the original advertisement said 150 miles) of cycling from Harpoon’s brewery in south Boston to their northern New England location in Windsor, Vermont. We were all ready to go, including the fearless group of four from Team Mercury Multisport—Josh, Annie, Leslie and myself.
This ride actually had an sentimental element to it for me since this was going to be my final ride on the 12 year old Raleigh Technium bike that I have grown to love and hate. For I had purchased a newer, “cooler” model bike that will force the Technium into retirement. The long ride would serve as a fine send off for this loyal beast—so I had thought.
Once out of the traffic-ridden streets of greater Boston we chugged our way northward to the NH border. The sky got ominously more overcast as we progressed and the Technium had this funny gear slipping “thing” going on. “No worries,” I thought, “I’ve dealt with this before.” All felt good at the mile 47 water stop. After scarfing down two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made on good ‘ol all-American Wonder bread, I was ready to tackle the next 90+ miles.
Pushing myself up a moderate hill around mile 50 my feet felt suddenly light and free. What had happened? Had I gained some sort of super power that turned my quads into pistons of pure muscle? This thought quickly left my mind once I realized it was me were talking about after all and I looked down to see my chain lying like a dead snake on the ground. “Good God,” I muttered, “the Technium must know this is it’s last ride and will not let me put her down without a fight”. It had not been a gear-slipping “thing” afterall, but a weak link in the chain giving me problems.
Not having a chain breaker, my hopes of an early finish in time for a date with about 10 IPAs at the brewery in Windsor were dashed. Instead, here I stood off of Route 119 in East Nowhere, NH pathetically holding my greasy chain and staring helplessly at the pavement. Suddenly a familiar flash of yellow and red appeared out of nowhere. A fellow B2B rider! This gracious knight, Colin, a citizen of Great Britain, fortunately wielded a chain breaker. All the kings horses and all the king’s men quickly put my chain back together and Humpty Dumpty was back on the road.
I was fixed and furious; ready to make up for lost time when alas, the “30% chance of showers” turned into a “100% chance of downpours” and the sky opened up for the next several hours. The rain actually felt good at first, serving to cool me down. However, by mile 75 while standing in a Dunkin Donuts convenient store shivering uncontrollably and sipping on a Gatorade, I wished the rain to Hell. Lesson number one out of the Handbook for Sadistic Cyclists says that you must always grin and bare it—finish out your ride no matter what the weather conditions. So I hopped back on the No-Large-Chain-Ring-Gear Technium and I was off.
It took about 10 minutes to heat back up and start to feel good again. The rain continued in droves over the next 21 miles to the second water stop at mile 97. The Harpoon support team was great, providing us with the nourishment and encouragement we needed to prod along. Leaving them behind, we knew it was our last stop for the day and the brewery now awaited us!
Fortunately, most of the route past Keene, NH was downhill. The rain had stopped for a brief thirty minutes or so to allow us to cruise this portion. In fact, cruising became the new theme for the day. I actually began to feel refreshed, and “second-winded”. That would not last long as the second wave of downpours arrived just in time for mile 108. Leslie and I had chosen to ride together for support, and now was my time to take advantage of that support. I am sure she got sick of me asking every five miles how far we had gone, but never showed it. Perhaps the daggers of water cascading off of her back tire and into my face was her way of silencing me, for I dropped back to avoid the acqua-induced onslaught. I dropped further back after several pee stops facilitated by drinking nearly two liters of water at the last water stop.
Around mile 120 we joined forces once again, focusing on the finish. The rain had stopped, the brewery was only 10 miles away and life was good once again. Around mile 125, the sentimentality began to settle in, for knowing this would be the last five miles I would ride on the Technium. I was determined to make it quiet, memorable five miles. As I steadily cruised along, I thought of all the good times on this bike: the numerous 22 mile sprints up to Bedford and back; the rides to the beaches along the north shore; and who could forget the 85+ mile jaunts up to the NH border and back? As I waxed nostalgically of these memories, I suddenly found myself jolted back to reality as I came off my saddle and hurled towards the handlebars. The scraping sound of my shoes on the pavement as the back tire lodged into the railroad tracks made me realize I needed to react quickly. Fortunately, I landed on my feet and stopped my fall quickly. I had made it unscathed. Alas, the Technium had not. The back tire turned into a pretzel upon impact with the tire tracks and flatted out (these tracks, in fact, caused several wipe-outs as I would later find out). One last memory, indeed.
Hitching a ride to the brewery with a B2B rider who happened to be driving by in his van, I finished the last five miles of the ride in non-ceremonious fashion. Taking the Technium out of the van, I leaned it against the fence in order to make off for the feast of grilled chicken and beer that awaited all of our hard work upon the completion of this epic. As I walked away from the bike, I heard a metallic slither. Stopping, I looked back to see that the chain had fallen off and rested on the wet grass. I just smiled and thought of all the good times.
If you’re like me, one of the biggest challenges this time of year as an endurance athlete is figuring out how you can continue to do your workouts outside while the days get shorter and colder. I’m a big proponent of cross-training in the winter and taking advantage of what winter has to offer (see my previous post, The Case for Winter: Multisport at Its Best). Whatever outdoor activity you pursue in the winter, you’re going to want to think about the gear that you will need. Being prepared for the cold temperatures, wind chill and mixed precipitation will make your experience in the winter much more enjoyable, whether you choose to workout outdoors or are forced due to challenging conditions to workout indoors.
The six pieces of gear that every endurance athlete absolutely should have as part of their winter collection are:
1. A windshirt- Whether you’re going for a run, a climb, a hike, or a bike ride, a windshirt is the most versatile, practical piece of clothing you can own. (You could also throw in windpants which are made from the same category in with the shirt). In fact, I like to state that a windshirt is the best piece of clothing EVER invented. What makes it so great is that it is lightweight, it protects you from the wind very well (although it’s not designed with a ton of insulation to keep you super warm in very cold temps), it’s breathable, and it dries very fast (which is critical in the winter). I often wear just a synthetic base layer and the windshirt when I go skate skiing or for a run in cold temps and it ends up being all I need as long as I’m moving. My personal favorite is the Marmot DriClime Windshirt, but other companies also make descent equivalents, like REI.
2. Windstopper clothing- If I plan on doing a bike ride in the winter or go downhill or cross-country skiing on a very windy day, I always make sure I’m wearing windstopper gloves, hat (or on the bike, balaclava), shirt, and — ahem– underwear. There are two things to think about in the winter: insulation from the cold and protection from the wind. You often won’t need a ton of insulation since you’ll be generating heat while moving along, but you will need protection from the wind. Windstopper material is specially designed to protect against the biting cold of the wind. It does come with the trade-off that it’s less breathable, so you want to be sure to regulate any excessive sweat build up when using windstopper material. Any wind stopper gloves from REI, Black Diamond, Craft or other manufacturer will do. As for underwear, I’d highly recommend underwear by Craft, especially for men, who will need to protect certain appendages.
3. Running shoe ice cleats- There’s nothing more tedious than relegating all of your runs to the treadmill as soon as the cold weather and snow comes. I’ll often advise my clients to do some of their runs indoors in the winter, but will always encourage them to get outside when possible. After all, the races you’ll be running are all outdoors (unless you’re track & field person), so the more running you can do outside the better. One essential piece of equipment all runners are going to want to have are ice cleats for their running shoes. Ice cleats go on the bottom of the running shoe will help with the grip on icy or snowy trails, as well as roads (although I’d not recommending wearing them on roads where pavement is showing since this will ruin the cleats). Some good brands/models to consider are the Yaktrax Pros, Petzl Spiky Plus, Stableicers Sport, or Icespike. Runner’s World did a nice review of ice cleats.
4. A headlamp- Days are short in the winter and it’s virtually impossible to do your early morning workout or after-work workout with sunlight or at least without starting (in the morning) or finishing (in the evening) in the dark. Headlamp technology has improved leaps and bounds the past 10 years and it’s really easy to find an inexpensive, lightweight model to help light your way. I’d highly recommend an LED headlamp from Black Diamond, Petzl, or Princeton Tec. Something like the Petzl Tikka, Princeton Tec Aurora or Black Diamond Ion are just the right size and strength for nighttime running or skiing. Backpacking Light has a descent comparison of LED headlamps.
5. Bike trainer- Sometimes the roads are just going to be too snow-covered or icy to safely go out and do a ride or perhaps you just don’t feel like hauling our your mountain bike to hit the trails. That’s when a bike trainer will come in very handy. In the height of the winter (roughly mid-December to early March), I do the majority of my bike workouts on a trainer (it’s much easier to get on the trainer at 5:30am on that dark, -15 degree morning). You’re going to want to decide whether you should get a magnetic or roller trainer (I’ll defer that debate to another time) or even a CompuTrainer (which I’d recommend for advanced athletes with a bigger budget). I ride a magnetic trainer and highly recommend Kurt Kinetic or Cycle-Ops.
6. Home gym for strength & power- Okay, so this isn’t just one piece of equipment, but a few (which you’ll need to vary the types of exercises you can do at home). Sometimes the weather is just so crappy (think, 33 degrees and raining), that you have no choice but to workout indoors in the winter or it’s just easier to do the particular exercise or workout indoors (think weight training). That’s when a home gym comes in (if you prefer to go to a gym outside your home, make sure they have the equipment you need). I’m a big proponent of functional movement exercise to simulate the sport you training for, which as an endurance athlete, is not body-building (read: no need to be able to bench press 300+ lbs). Given that, most of the equipment you need for the type of strength and power training for endurance sports you can store in your home, would cost you about 1-2 months worth of gym membership (approximately $100-200, with the exception of a core board, which would run the budget up), and would include the following:
dumbbells- get two dumbbells and about 50-60 lbs. of weight per dumbbell (you can always purchase more weight later if you need it). Having dumbbells you can add/subtract weight from will make it easier for changing resistance levels & for storage.
physioball- you will use this for a variety of exercises, including balance, and strength. Check the specs to make sure you get the right size.
medicine ball(s)- typically one 12lb ball will cover most exercises you’ll do.
stretch cords (or resistance bands)- these can be used for simulating a variety of strength and stretching exercises. Make sure you get the right resistance level.
core board- a core board is fantastic for core stability exercises and should be part of any home gym. The Reebok core board is perhaps the best one on the market.
pad- any foam pad will do, as long as it serves as adequate protection for the floor and cushioning for when you lie on it.
foam roller- a foam roller is fantastic for self-massage, which is something I recommend as part of active recovery. The more harder the foam roller, the better it will work.
yoga strap or rope- any 8-10 foot piece of rope or yoga strap will work perfectly in assisting with active isolated stretching exercises, which I often recommend as part of active recovery.
Of course there is all the ancillary gear that goes along with the above list to help you do you workouts (such as your bike or skis), but I am assuming you have most of that gear. The items on the above list will compliment those items and allow you to focus on your winter endurance regime much more effectively and enjoyably.
I’ve been fortunate enough to have have had some really great experiences in my life– from expeditions to triathlon races– many of which I’ve written about, but never have posted online (mainly because they were written prior to the widespread use of blogs or common occurence of writing to the web). I figured now is a great time to share some of these stories on Ascending Higher, particularly as we’re waiting for the snow to arrive and searching for some inspiration to plan out some exciting adventures for 2010. I’ll run them as a series of posts, starting with a narrative I wrote about my trip to Peru in July-August 2001 during an expedition to the Cordillera Blanca. I’ll then follow that with write-ups of my climbing trip to the volcanoes of Ecuador in December 2000, my expedition to the Cordillera Real of Bolivia in July-August 2004, trek to Everest Base Camp in March-April of 2000, as well as recaps of my experiences at bike rides (Harpoon’s Brewery to Brewery) and triathlon races (Eagleman, Ralph’s CA Half). I would love to hear your comments and experiences, so please comment on any of the posts!
This first post was written in June 2003, soon after I had completed the Blackwater Eagleman Half Ironman.
Ralph's CA Half Ironman now known as 70.3 Ironman CA- Oceanside
After finishing the Timberman Half Ironman in 2002, I was hooked. I knew the longer distance endurance races were why I had gotten into this thing called triathlon. Where else could you suffer for 5 or more hours (in my case at least) completing a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike and a 13.1 mile run and call it “enjoyment”? Or perhaps more appropriately, where else could you challenge yourself to reach beyond your limits and to seek your personal best? So shortly after I finished the Timberman I scoured the Internet for more of these endurance gems. Like a drug addict, I needed to know when the next one was so that I could satisfy my inner yearning for more torture. Just as importantly, I wanted the “good stuff”—the races off the beaten path—races with some history—races with some Mojo.
Two races in particular piqued my fancy—Ralph’s California Half Ironman (now called Ironman 70.3 California Oceanside) on April 5, 2003 and The Eagleman Half Ironman on June 7, 2003. These races not only fell perfectly into my training and race calendar for the year, but also fit the criteria for the “good stuff”. The California Half would take me to Triathlon City Central– San Diego, California– while the weather was still cold back east (and ice climbing season was coming to a close) as well as allow me to pay a visit to my sister who still can’t quite figure out why I would want to fly 3000 miles to do one of these things. Likewise, The Eagleman would take me to lovely Cambridge, Maryland (okay, well not so lovely, but the Chesapeake is nice) and allow me to pay a visit to my two year old godson along the way. Always combine pleasure with pleasure I like to say.
The California Half Ironman featured over 2000 athletes from around the world, including last year’s Hawaii Ironman World Champion, Tim DeBoom. (Not that I would ever get a chance to see him since he finished 1 and half hours before me, but it was somewhat cool to be at a race with the “big guns”). The California Half is considered the “kick-off” to Kona, being the first Hawaii qualifier of the season. This fact, coupled with its location, ensured the competition would be stiff. My only goal entering the race was to see where I was at at this point in the season. Being from New England, its difficult to train outdoors in the winter (you get no sympathy from those living in southern California—trust me) so I knew the 56 mile ride over the hills of Camp Pendleton would be quite a challenge. I was praying to the God of Trainers to pull me through!
“Be sure to wear your wetsuit, the water is freezing!”, the Race Director warned us at the pre-race meeting. However, the race day water temperature turned out to be 59 degrees—child’s play! Being in my wetsuit for the first time since last October did not worry me (but it should have as I ended up with the biggest wetsuit hickee ever seen on a human being), as I slid myself into the Pacific. With water temperatures just fine, air temperatures in the high 60s and absolutely no wind to speak of, the swim in Oceanside harbor was the best ever for a race.
The transition areas were all well-run and organized, as I made my way for my bike. Fortunately, the course is closed to public traffic since it’s on a military base (there was actually a threat of a base closure due to the war in Iraq, but luckily that did not happen). The support of the Marines handing out water bottles at the aid stations was a true inspiration, as I was reminded of how lucky we all were to be competing in races such as the California Half because of the bravery of the Marines. I gave it all I had on the ride, but the hills had taken their toll. My time was much slower than I had hoped, but I did have enough for the run.
The run took us along the strand at Oceanside and was quite a flat, scenic course. Temperatures had risen during the double out-and-back run, approaching the mid-to-high 70s by race end. I had been battling a post-tib injury since last year (and still am), so I knew the run would be a true test of mental stamina for me. For me, the run (especially around mile 8 on a half IM) is always “the meat” of the race—the time when you have just got to hang in and pull it through. I had to reach deep to pull it through this time, but I did and was rewarded with a great big hug from my sister and Leslie at the finish line. Victory!
After the California Half, I knew I had a lot of work to do. The Eagleman was two months away and I needed to get outside and train. With the weather now consistently above 40 degrees (and consistently wet) back home, there was no excuse not to get the miles in. I settled into a nice routine of long ride-long run on the weekends and even ventured out into Walden in early May to get some open water swimming in.
June 7th quickly came and race day was already here. The Eagleman Half Ironman, like Ralph’s California Half IM, was a Hawaii qualifier, so a large number of pros (some having already qualified for Hawaii) came for the event, including Tim DeBoom once again, as well as Lori Bowden. With over 1800 athletes, it was one of the largest races I have ever been in.
Fortunately, the rain held off for race day, with perfect conditions of overcast skies and temperatures in the low 70s. The brackish water in the Choptank River lived up to its name, pelting swimmers with some of the choppiest conditions ever seen at the Eagleman. Navigating proved difficult in such conditions.
Eagleman Half Ironman
The heavy rain the day before caused the transition area to be quite muddy. Not wanting to risk clogged cleats, this was the one time I actually left my “coffee shop caps” on my cycling shoes as I ran my bike through the transition area. The ride through the Blackwater Preserve was very scenic and fast. I was able to pull down a descent bike split. The run, on the other hand, would be another story.
The 13.1 mile out-and-back once again took us through scenic and flat stretches of the Blackwater Preserve. Unfortunately, my injury had not improved much since the California Half, so I was limited in my training for the Eagleman. It certainly showed on the run, but once again, I was able to win the mental battle and pull out a solid overall time.
Both races proved to be premier events and “must dos’ in the circuit of North American Half Ironmans. From a personal standpoint, I was quite happy: With two races, I achieved my one goal—to challenge myself to reach beyond my limits and to seek my personal best. And I had it done it at venues that possessed “the good stuff”.
I’ve been fortunate enough to have have had some really great experiences in my life– from expeditions to triathlon races– many of which I’ve written about, but never have posted online (mainly because they were written prior to the widespread use of blogs or common occurence of writing to the web). I figured now is a great time to share some of these stories on Ascending Higher, particularly as we’re waiting for the snow to arrive and searching for some inspiration to plan out some exciting adventures for 2010. I’ll run them as a series of posts, starting with a narrative I wrote about my trip to Peru in July-August 2001 during an expedition to the Cordillera Blanca. I’ll then follow that with write-ups of my climbing trip to the volcanoes of Ecuador in December 2000, my expedition to the Cordillera Real of Bolivia in July-August 2004, trek to Everest Base Camp in March-April of 2000, as well as recaps of my experiences at bike rides (Harpoon’s Brewery to Brewery) and triathlon races (Eagleman, Ralph’s CA Half). I would love to hear your comments and experiences, so please comment on any of the posts!
This first post was written in August 2001, soon after my arrival back to the United States after my trip to the Cordillera Blanca of Peru in July-August of that same year. I spent the first week with my wife, Leslie, acclimitizing along the Inca Trail, and then the remainder of the trip on an expedition with Roger Wall, Marco Perez, Jaoquim our cook, and lots of burros and chickens (the chickens unfortunately did not survive the trip).
Peru Expedition 2002: Cusco and the Cordillera Blanca
Acclimitizing on the Inca Trail: Incan ruins at Winay Wayna
A few days of trekking through the Sacred Valley in the Department of Cusco, Peru brought us back five centuries into the heart and soul of the Incan Empire. My travel partner (who is now my wife– we weren’t married at the time), Leslie, and I could only leave to our imaginations what the ruins at Sachsayhuamán, Tambomachay, Pisac, Ollataytambo, Winay Wayna, and of course, the most mystery-shrouded of all, Machu Picchu, were like before the Spanish conquistadors transformed them. Workers chiseling out the next stones to be placed perfectly into the city structures, gilt Incan walls, quinoa terraces tended by local farmers, guinea pigs (still a local delicacy) nesting in the stone houses of the locals—all probably were very typical at the apex of Incan society. These idyllic scenes have vanished, replaced by tourists swarming over what was once a sacred temple, Quechuan natives dressed in traditional clothing clutching puppies, begging tourists to take their picture in exchange for a sole (the Peruvian currency), and the Machu Picchu Sactuary Lodge, catering to those who pay $200+ a night to watch the sun rise over Machu Picchu without the inconvenience of the morning hike on the Inca Trail. The government has even approved the building of a ski gondola from Aguas Caliente to the top of Machu Picchu so more money can be creamed from the curious but coddled visitors to the world famous archeological site. While the concept of a gondola is in blatant contradiction to the true spirit of Machu Picchu, the demand for such a structure and the government’s desire to profit from it can only be attributed to tourists, like us.
Year after year, thousands hike the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu on what is arguably one of the most spectacular hikes in the world. We chose not to hike the Inca Trail for this very reason. The frat party atmosphere at Winay Wayna, where all trekkers —Inca Trail bound or not—must pass to access Machu Picchu (unless bussing it up from Aguas Caliente or hiking in from another remote route from Vilcabamba to the west) proved our decision to steer clear to be the correct one for us.
Despite the taint or overcrowding and overcommercialism, the Cusco region of Peru is absolutely one of the most beautiful places I have ever traveled. The environment varies from the tropical jungle ecosystem of the Manu Preserve in the Amazon Basin to the high alpine rock and ice of massive peaks that climb above 6,000 meters (approximately 19,700 feet), such as Nevada Veronicá. Unfortunately, most tourists who come to Cusco do not venture outside of the Sacred Valley or beyond the Inca Trail. The reason for this is the accessibility of these sites, and the shroud of mystery that still covers most of department beyond Machu Picchu. The jungles beyond Machu Picchu are a remote area, with the forgotten city of Vilcabamba (also known as Espiritú Pampa), just recently having been uncovered for visitors. Few venture to travel that far, however.
For us, Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley represented not the culmination, but the point of embarkment of our journey. Leslie and I parted ways in Cusco as she prepared to meet a group to trek in the Cordillera Blanca and I readied myself for a climb in the same range. My decision to climb instead of trek was one I had made before traveling to Peru. While it meant parting ways with Leslie, it would only be for a short time and would allow me to pursue an activity I am passionate about—challenging myself on climbs at altitude—and one I cannot pursue where I live in a Boston suburb.
I flew from the former Incan capital city Qusqu (now the modern Peruvian city of Cusco) to the Peruvian capital, Lima. In the seasonal gray gloom of that city, I met up with Roger, my good friend and climbing partner from New York City. Roger and I had climbed Mount Baker in Washington State together and have ice climbed in the White Mountains of New Hampshire as well as rock climbed in the Gunks of New York together, so we comfortable with one another’s strengths and limitations. Choosing compatible partners is crucial to any expedition, but does not mitigate the other factors that can derail an expedition — as we would learn.
The elusive Artesonraju with Alpamayo in the background
After an unexpectedly pleasant, but tiring eight-hour bus ride to Huaraz, the climbing mecca of the Andes, we were at last in the Cordillera Blanca. I stepped out of the bus feeling strong and invigorated as I inhaled the cool mountain air and absorbed the views of surrounding peaks. After picking out one of the many taxi drivers who cruised the area for business, we were shuttled through the wild streets of Huaraz to our Swiss-style hotel, the Hotel Club Andino, where we met Marco Perez, who would be leading us on our climbs over the next 21 days.
With 13 years of experience climbing throughout the Andes, Marco is one of the most knowledgeable and reliable Peruvian guides around. We were lucky to have him, particularly since we only found him at the last minute. Roger and I had debated the use of a guide and decided that since we did not know these mountains and were uncertain of how best to arrange the logistics and support for our expedition, somebody like Marco would make our trip much more enjoyable. Our expectations were exceeded.
The Cordillera Blanca, a range of twenty 6,000-meter peaks, represents the finest climbing in the western hemisphere—a climber’s playground. It is ideally suited for the serious climber — whether looking for the challenge of a famous rock face, La Esfinge (The Sphinx, otherwise known as Torre de Paron), or the second-highest mountain in the Andes, Huascaran Sur (6,768m), or just seeking a scenic spot to practice mountaineering techniques on glacial moraines. Most climbers looking to check off big-name peaks come to attempt Huascaran or Alpamayo (5,947m), both formidable climbs. We opted for lesser-traveled peaks.
After stocking up on food, obtaining the services of a cook and porter, Joaquin, and making final gear checks, we were off for the Llanganuco Valley, one of the many beautiful valleys in Huascaran National Park. We climbed to 4,665 meters in about 3 hours, gaining spectacular views of the Huascaran Massif, Yanapaqcha (5,700m) and the Huandoy Massif (6,395m) along the way to our destination at Pisco Base Camp. Pisco Oeste (5,752m) was our planned first summit attempt and we were to spend three more nights in this valley, slowly advancing until our summit bid.
Already at base camp, I noticed the altitude in a way I had never experienced before in my other high-altitude excursions in Nepal and Ecuador. Most people experience some form of altitude illness when they arrive at high elevations, whether it be loss of appetite or a headache, but these symptoms usually fade with proper acclimatization. However, my extreme shortness of breath and elevated heart rate were atypical. On the way to moraine camp, while climbing over large boulders and scree fields, I felt fatigue and began to cough. My condition was worrisome enough to Marco that he ordered me to descend to base camp to rest. I did not object, knowing full well the consequences of staying at moraine camp. My condition could worsen, perhaps to a state of pulmonary edema, a life threatening condition that causes excessive fluid buildup in the lungs. Altitude can kill. The only cure for severe altitude sickness is immediate descent, and the evacuation of a sick climber over the Pisco moraine in the middle of the night would have been nearly impossible. So I descended.
Back at Pisco base camp, disappointment overwhelmed me. This was supposed to only be our acclimatization peak and I was already falling apart! After months of preparation it came to this. I was in the best physical shape of my life, training every day (with active recovery included), aerobically for 1-2 hours, lifting weights 4-5 days a week. Now, all that effort had been crushed by a simple lack of oxygen. It hadn’t just been physical preparations that now seemed for naught: Roger and I had had difficulties pulling together the logistics of our trip , both of us having made sacrifices to get to this very point. Two other climbing partners had pulled out of the expedition when one ripped up his knee climbing in California and the other refroze once frostbitten toes when caught in a storm at the top of Grand Teton. Yet we two had still managed to make it here — and for what?
Huandoy Massif, second highest peak in the Cordillera Blanca
Roger and Marco had camped at Pisco moraine camp and continued on the next day for an early morning ascent of Pisco Oeste. After their ascent, they met me at Pisco base camp. I was happy for Roger and Marco when I heard that they had summited Pisco Oeste. I wanted them to push on with our original plan without me to Chopicalqui (6,345m), but, not wanting to fracture our team, Roger and Marco, decided that we should all descend back down to Huaraz, rest, and then head out for our next summit attempt. If we descended at this point and followed that plan, our chances of summiting a 6,000-meter peak would be slim. I had a hard time accepting this, especially since this was my second attempt at climbing a 6,000-meter peak (the first was a trip to Chimborazo, Ecuador that was thwarted by bad weather). Nevertheless, I reluctantly accepted, but silently vowed that one of us would push on to summit a 6,000-meter peak if the circumstances did not prohibit a safe attempt.
We decided the Santa Cruz Valley offered us the greatest range of options. This valley is home to some of the classic mountaineering climbs: Alpamayo, Quitaraju (6,040m), Artesonraju (6,025m), and what has been described as one of the hardest climbs in the world, the spired, avalanche-riddled Taulliraju (5,830m). I held out hope that perhaps we could at least get on Artesonraju or Quitaraju, which had been part of our original aspirations, but I knew that would be a long shot. After a first bout with sickness at altitude, it is hard to shake off. My lungs still festered with a lingering cough as we trekked past one gorgeous alpine route up towering peaks after another. After much discussion as a team and soul-searching for myself, we decided we would climb, but not to 6,000 meters this time. We would stay together and maximize our enjoyment of the mountains, the real reason we were in Peru.
Focusing on Millishraju (5,510m), a glorious snow-covered peak sandwiched between Taulliraju and Nevada Paron (5,600m), we moved forward with high spirits. We camped in an isolated valley at the base of a moraine that leads to Millishraju, our best campsite of the expedition. The next morning, after sucking down hot tea, bread and fried eggs—the classic breakfast of Andean expeditions— we got an early start for the summit. The moraine challenged us, as we pushed ourselves onto the glacier. The route brought us over a long snow climb, peeking out over huge sections of hanging glaciers and past large crevasses. After pushing ourselves hard for several hours, the summit loomed in the passing clouds ahead. I felt very strong. When we reached the summit, I was intoxicated with joy. There I stood—surveying the second-highest mountain range in the world, ist glaciers, rock, ice, and the blue skies that set them off like celestial palaces.
The towering summit of Piramide de Garcilaso
I looked forward to edging down the valley, to the point of departure for our next summit attempt. I felt once again like a king, picking among his castles, as I looked upon the unbelievable variety of mountains. We needed to plan carefully, however, since I could suffer a relapse of altitude sickness higher up and because Roger had experienced a relentless, altitude-related headache on the climb up to Millishraju. So we set our sights on Curuicashajana (5,510m), an imposing granite peak bristling with slabs of glacial ice. Curuicashajana would be enough of a challenge for climbers in our condition.
With the assistance of two burros, and reliable Joaquin, we moved camp to the base of Curuicashajana. Stuffing ourselves with freshly butchered chicken carried from Huaraz, we sat around camp the night before the attempt on Curuicashajana, admiring at the burst of stars that filled the clear Andean sky. The weather was perfect for our pre-dawn start.
As we set out, it was bitterly cold. Temperatures had fallen overnight. Since none of us had been up this peak before, we needed to negotiate an uncharted, steep moraine before reaching the glacier. The moraine proved to be a challenge in itself, with large clumps of grass obstructing our pathway as we scrambled over rock slabs. After three hours of climbing 610 vertical meters (2000 vertical feet), I stopped for a photo break as Marco and Roger plowed ahead. The sun was just beginning to send its intense equatorial rays over the Santa Cruz Valley, casting perfect light over the monstrous slopes of Piramide de Garcilaso (5,885m) and Artesonraju. I took several photos of this magnificent sight before turning to Quitaraju. Its massive western face dropped away precipitously, with its sharp ice flutes capturing the sun’s rays along the way. I thought about the climbers who were probably summiting at that very moment on the other side of Quitaraju. It was probably the first 6,000 meter peak for some of them, and they were fortunate to have such glorious weather.
Moving forward in the cold air, the strength I enjoyed just the day before quickly began to leave my body as we rose above 5200 meters (17,000+ feet). I plodded on, frustrated. After another half hour of battling with my lungs, I stopped and waved Roger and Marco onward, shouting to them that I would be going down. I could not jeopardize the safety of my partners nor my own. Obviously, the mountains would not permit me to go any farther.
I made my way back to base camp. After a near glissade down the moraine on the slick clumpy grass, I was relieved to be in this safe spot. I spent the day recounting the adventure we were on, step by step, contemplating the decisions I had made along the way. Were they the right ones? What if I had just toughed it out? I had no answers, but that did not stop me from torturing myself for my choices. This is the most difficult struggle in the mountains—the one with the mind. The mind says, “go for it”, while the body says “no more”. I reminded myself that the losers of the struggle die. I had chosen what was best for me.
When Roger and Marco returned to camp, they said they had diverted from the summit of Curuicashajana, opting instead for a traverse over the rock-glacier line right below the summits of Curuicashajana and the majestic Rinríjirca (5,810m), in the direction of Taulliraju. It took them a solid 12 hours to complete. Both were utterly exhausted. As they told their epic, part of me wished I had been with them, but the other part was very happy that I had not.
We packed up camp and made our way over the high pass of Punta Union (4,760m), to other side of valley. It took us two days to hike out, going from contorted icefalls at the head of Punta Union, to bog-strewn pampas leading to Vaqueria, our departure point. The bumpy ride in our colectivo (mini-van) over another high pass at 4,700 meters was an adventure in itself. A flat tire, wet snow, blaring Peruvian pop songs, and a driver with the terrifying habit of letting go of the wheel, kept us occupied during the three-hour ride back to Huaraz.
In Huaraz, we said goodbye to Marco and Joaquin. Both had been excellent resources for us. We promised to keep in touch, for I was already planning my return to the Cordillera Blanca for next year’s climbing season. There is simply too much to do in this mountain range, and I had only begun. Next year I would return wiser and more seasoned. We would ascend more slowly, give our bodies more time to acclimatize, and plan for high camps above the moraines if we decided to attempt any peaks that do not have frequently climbed routes. This experience had taught me two such important lessons. I would put them into practice next time. We had, with varying degrees of acceptability, successfully addressed the other issues ahead of time to maximize our chances for success this time around.
No matter how much planning for success you may do, it’s never enough. Many things have to come together for a successful summit attempt: logistical planning, physical conditioning, weather, nutrition and hydration, health at altitude, technical climbing experience, teamwork, meshing of personalities and styles with partners, and a good dose of luck. The mountain decides whether you make it or not. I kept this in mind throughout the expedition. It would have been very easy for the mountains to become an all-consuming passion, seducing me into “summit fever,” which casts caution aside. I avoided taking uncalculated risks and as a result, lived to plan my next adventure.
I’ve started a series called “Ascending Athletes”, which features people achieving great things in their lives and/or impacting the lives of others through athletics. I’m featuring athletes of all backgrounds, sports and skill levels. Everyone has a story to tell– whether a recreational or beginner just starting to work out or a hardcore athlete who is competing at an elite level. The goal of the Ascending Athlete series is to capture these stories and inspire others to seek similar challenges and rewards. If you would like to share your story or would like to nominate someone as an Ascending Athlete, please let me know. For more information about Ascend Sports Conditioning, visit our website.
Mike Ferragamo
Mike getting ready to kick it into high gear
Some people are just natural coaches and leaders. It’s one of those skills that is hard to learn– you either have it or you don’t. Mike Ferragamo is one of those guys who just has it. I know Mike from the high tech scene in the Boston area, having worked with him in a previous job. Wherever I’ve worked, I seemed to have established at least one good friendship that has endured over the years– and one of those has been with Mike. I not only respect Mike professionally for his leadership, but also for what he’s done in the athletic realm. I admire his dedication to sports, particularly running, and his love for inspiring others in the sport, including fundraising for charity. Mike has run in the Boston Marathon a few different times, both as an athlete, as well as a coach for Team in Training. Through his efforts, Mike has helped raise over $2 million dollars for Team and Training and Children’s Hospital in Boston. Consider joining Mike’s team, Miles for Miracles, to not only help raise your own personal fitness, but also raise money for a fantastic cause. Please visit Team in Training’s donation page or the donation page for Children’s Hospital if you’re interested in helping either organization in their fight.
Mike was kind enough to answer a few questions and help explain what makes him an Ascending Athlete:
Why are athletics important to you?
Athletics allow me to constantly challenge myself. I enjoy just getting out for a long run and being able to refelct on things and release any stress. Athletics also allow me to have a good balance of work, family and personal time.
What sports do you participate in?
Primarily running but also play golf and hockey regulary and try to mountain bike when time allows.
What is your major athletic goal(s)and/or events you are participating in for this year?
This year I will have run another 2 marathons (Providence & Baltimore) and countless other races. Because each race is different I always have to prepare for any type of race conditions while also putting in enough training to hit my time goals that I set for myself. I also strive each training season to have all of my runners complete their events. Why have you chosen this goal(s)?
What are some future goal(s) or event(s) you’d like to participate in?
I would like to run an ultra distance and participate in an Ironman at some point. I also think that being part of a team for one of the 24 hr races would be a blast.
What impact has your athletics had on the lives of others?
Ever since running my first marathon with Team in Training I was able to stay involved and over the past 6 years have trained close to a thousand runners who have raised over $2 million dollars for both Team in Training and Children’s Hospital Boston.
Name one interesting fact or story that makes you unique and interesting
Growing up and up until the summer of 2002 the only running I would have done would have been associated with team sports. I never understood why people just went out to run. I used to see people running the river in the rain and say to myself “can’t you just skip a day or wait until the rain stops”. It is ironic because I will now run through any weather and I am sure people say the same thing about me when I am out there. Another interesting fact about me is that until I ran the Boston Marathon for the first time in 2004 I had never gone out to watch it.
Thanks to Mike for sharing his story and for inspiring others to improve their health & well-being while helping others in the process– he truly is an Ascending Athlete!
Finally, we’ve gotten enough cold temperatures so that ice can finally form here in New England, and we can at long last start giving serious attention to the ice climbing season. Every year the season flies by (it’s only about 12 weeks long– at least here in New England), so making the most of the time is key. Here are five things to do to get the most out of your season:
If you’re like me, one of the biggest challenges this time of year as an endurance athlete is figuring out how you can continue to do your workouts outside while the days get shorter and colder. I’m a big proponent of cross-training in the winter and taking advantage of what winter has to offer (see my previous post, 
