It’s taken me the past two weeks to decompress and process the recent experience I had in Vermont at 29029. This is an ultra endurance event where participants are given 36 hours to climb a mountain the number of times equaling the vertical height of climbing Mt Everest. My event was at Stratton Mountain, VT, but they also have events at Snow Basin, Utah and Sun Valley, Idaho. My only job was to hike the mountain, take the gondola down and repeat…17 times. Oh, and this was my second attempt. I flew to Utah last year and was hit straight on with altitude sickness and only made 4 of the 13 summits there. Obviously, I had unfinished business.
This year I was ready. I trained like a madman, hiking Stone Mountain in Atlanta many, many times and taking 10-plus mile walks all over the city, just to get used to moving for hours at a time. I enlisted the help of “real” athletes to help with my nutrition and I did lots of mental work on what to do when I wanted to quit. I was 100% ready.
I can’t begin to describe what it’s like to be involved in an event like this. It’s not cheap. People think I’m crazy for wanting to do this, but “magical” doesn’t even begin to describe the experience of 29029. Imagine coming together with an incredible group of like minded people from all over the world. It’s addicting.
Let me also say, I’m not an athlete. Correction, I wasn’t an athlete, but I’ve changed my tune about that! I do have a full-time job and I’m a full-time single parent, so training for endurance events like this takes time and commitment.
Back to my story. I get to Vermont and I begin. The weather is cold, rainy, snowy and very muddy. I was thrilled, since my last attempt in Utah was met with 100 degree temperatures. My first three ascents averaged about an hour and twenty minutes each, which was a pretty steady pace, leaving me plenty of time to get at least 10 climbs in before midnight. Then it happened. That same nauseous, shaky feeling I had in Utah. I was hydrating, I was eating and my body was strong. I couldn’t pinpoint what was happening and the altitude in Vermont was nothing compared to Utah. But it was happening. I kept going, slowing my pace, all the while repeating my mantra, “keep moving forward” in my head. I was able to complete 6 climbs before I knew I had to stop, eat and get myself together. I ended up sleeping 10 full hours! When I woke up at 5:00 AM, I felt like a new person and was ready to go. Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to have enough time to get from 6 to 17 summits before the event completed. I allowed myself a 15-minute pity party and started climbing again.
This is where the magic started. When I actually removed the idea of getting that red bib you get if you complete all 17 climbs and focused on where my feet were, my entire experience changed. I started hiking with Mona Patel, an amputee with a prothsteic leg. Don’t feel sorry for Mona. She is one tough cookie with grit and could lap me on my best day. I hiked with Liz who was treating herself to this experience after a tumultuous divorce. These women were strangers and are now forever friends. My training partner, Caylee and I spent hours together. We have two different stories and lives, but met each other in pursuit of our goals and will always have this experience between us. World class professional athletes Brent Pease and Chad Wright stopped their own experience to slow down and escort me to the top of the mountain a couple of times. These were a handful of stories that kept me motivated and I wound up doing ELEVEN of the 17 ascents. Quite a feat!
I came home filled with gratitude and pride with what I accomplished. 29029 is for people that want to see what they are capable of, but it’s not a competition. There are no timing chips and first place winners. It’s you versus the mountain. That's it.
By the way, I still want the red bib you get after the last ascent, so I’m going back. June 2020 in Sun Valley, Idaho, baby! This time, I plan to focus on each ascent, like it’s the only one I have to accomplish. I plan to help those that are struggling and just like Vermont, I plan to leave 100% of my efforts on that mountain.
Care to join me?