Climbing for a cause - Everesting

Back in 2020, I heard of Everesting for the first time when a neighbor shared that a friend was going to attempt to bike up the equivalent of Mount Everest from sea level, 29,029 feet. “Wow, that’s crazy,” I thought. Fast forward to late 2022 and the seed that was planted began to grow. As I attempted to get as much vertical as I could in preparation for the Barkley Marathons, a race with 70,000 feet of elevation gain, completing an Everesting challenge dovetailed perfectly into my training. So I scoured topographic maps and then ran all the hills to find the right hill. I feared my best option would be on the Granite Peak ski hill, which is snow covered from mid-November until July; however, I found the top of the hill was so steep and rocky it was difficult to run fast downhill. Snowmaking forced me to explore other options and I discovered that a segment of the Yellow Trail on the south side of Rib Mountain State Park was equally as steep but much more forgiving on the descents. I ran the hill several times to find the optimal iteration. Although the top and bottom sections were not nearly as steep and would add overall distance to the attempt, I kept them in for several reasons:

Each had a distinct turn around backstop; the top stopped at the road and the bottom stopped at a hard right turn with a large tree and trail marker so I wouldn’t accidentally go too far or short as I mindlessly plugged away.
The top ending at the road was convenient for potential access to my vehicle (which I never used during the attempt or my training sessions) and trudge home afterwards.
I cached supplies about 50 meters short of the turnaround at the top and could mindlessly rehydrate and refuel without being out of breath and ditch the supplies so I didn’t need to carry anything on the entire repeat.
I could descend these sections without stressing my quads.

Climbing the “Stairway to Hell” on lap 42.

Finding a rhythm

Admittedly, the bottom section was flat enough that it was runnable, but after several training sessions I determined that running all of it was stressing my body and overall I’d be faster over the long haul by walking some of it. During my Everesting attempt, I considered walking all of it and reevaluated about 20 repeats in, determining that I would lose an extra 10 seconds per lap. Over the course of 50 more repeats I couldn’t afford to lose 500 seconds (8 ½ minutes) so I told myself I could run for 35 seconds. I also had a short segment right after the “Stairway to Hell” that I ran. Otherwise, I walked the uphill to keep my heart rate and perceived effort within my limits. Dialing in my pace with nearly 200 repeats up the hill allowed me to find a rhythm immediately on the day of execution. Based on all my prior efforts, I knew my pace would erode; however, when I hit paces early on it provided me a confidence boost since I hadn’t had a solid hill workout in 11 weeks since coming down with a cough. I didn’t even consider a date for Everesting until the doctor cleared me the Friday prior to ensure I wasn’t doing damage to my lungs. Every workout, I coughed constantly, especially on hills. Going into the attempt, I knew I still had good fitness since I had solid lactate threshold workout two days and nine days before.

My pace was pretty consistent considering this included stops to refuel/hydrate, change out gear, and pee over 17 hours. My pace slowed a bit once it got dark, as expected.

Snow-free and seizing the opportunity

I had spent a lot of time on the hill over the winter training for Barkley and completed four monster training sessions, with the final three sessions through the snow. Running in the snow did have a couple of upsides. My descents were faster in the snow, as long as I wasn’t slipping out of control. Snow erased the steps on the “Stairway to Hell” and every rock root, and leaf, removing any technicality on the trail. The accumulation of leaves as I skewered them with my ski pole tips drove me crazy at the beginning of my Everesting challenge but then I must have plucked every one off the trail (or learned to ignore them.)

The trails melted and dried out incredibly fast with a week of near record temperatures topping out at 87F in mid-April. Then the weather flipped a switch within hours to rain and cold. After getting cleared by the doctor, I looked at my calendar for dates. With my calendar filling up plus my husband having a looming work trip, the window was evaporating before the kids were off for summer break. The weather would be dry on May 2 for the first time in nearly a week; however, the forecast would still be cool and windy and I considered if the weather would hinder my attempt. I decided the day before my attempt to give it a go since I may not have another chance. Despite 22 mph winds and a high of 46F (16F below the average high), the weather felt surprisingly comfortable during the attempt. I was fortunate that I was positioned on the east side of the hill so I was mainly blocked from the wind. Plus, with my constant effort, I was able to generate enough body heat throughout the attempt. Compared to all my winter training sessions (with one eight hour effort starting at just 12F), I wouldn’t need to battle the logistical challenges of sub-freezing temperatures where I needed to heat up two gallons of water and place them in a cooler so my liquid would not freeze sitting all day in a snowbank.

Thanking my crew following a winter session.

As tantalizing as it was during my mega training sessions over the winter, I chose to wait until spring for my Everesting attempt. I wanted to push myself during Everesting and did not want to take anything away from my Barkley preparations (I also did not so a single race in the six months leading up to Barkley to ensure I remained completely focused). Besides, winter wasn’t the best suited for a fast Everesting time for several other reasons on top of trudging through snow. I also learned that when the temperatures rose about freezing of the winter, the subsequent slush permeated through my Gore-Tex shoes after a couple of hours, numbing my feet. After one session, I feared I had frostbite when my big toe throbbed in the shower, but it turns out it was just the beginning of a black toenail (show pic). One training session provided a bit of entertainment as snow that had accumulated on tree branches started falling. As I heard a creak from a nearby branch, I figured the odds were not in my favor that day since it was the day I found out I did not make it into the Leadville 100 lottery (again). I could only shake my head, as the snow bomb landed square on my noggin. Later that day as the sun went down, the slush began to freeze. I changed out of the shoe on my more numb foot and planned to change the other shoe after I did another repeat to attempt to warm back up since I still had two hours to go; however, the treads weren’t nearly as aggressive as my first pair of shoes. I began slipping everywhere and I had to resort back to putting the wet shoe back on to prevent a tragic injury.

I frequently laced up my running shoes while my skis and fat bike sat in the garage as I attempted to put in as much vertical training as possible over the winter in preparations for the infamous Barkley Marathons. My goal was to hit 250,000 feet of elevation gain over the winter. Training went better than expected and I hit my goal in 3 months, 2 days.

First virtual challenge

To be an official Everesting, you must submit a Strava link, so I got Strava for this endeavor. I don’t need Strava to provide accountability for me to train and I don’t want to go down the slippery slope of idolism in the form of seeking out praise from others. I had never done a virtual challenge of any kind before. Yet the idea of pushing myself in a race scenario felt very familiar. Between my countless solo training sessions (and I never run with music) and trail races where I often went for miles without seeing spectators, I didn’t need outside stimulus to remain motivated. Although I had only done three official ultras in the past twelve months, I had logged five solo 30-41 mile efforts of hill repeats with 12,200 to 19,700 feet of climbing and descent in training for Barkley since December. As in those training days, I had no pressure and I could walk away at any moment. A few times, I quickly dismissed the thought that, “Even if I called it quits now, I still put in a solid effort.”

Staying solid throughout the attempt.

Although Barkley was my impetus for this challenge, it was polar opposite in so many ways. My Everesting start time was spontaneous and optimized by me for maximum daylight. My repeats were rehearsed with 412 feet of climb over 0.42 miles; whereas the Barkley course is revealed the night before race day and the race is the only time you’re allowed onto the course. From the time I woke up to the time I was starting repeats was less than an hour rather than a 13 hour drive to Tennessee. Other than making that a rest day to give me time to pack, there was no taper. For Barkley, I laid out a three weeks of taper.

Nutrition

I try to live an overall healthy lifestyle, not just exercising but eating healthy. My one failure was not eating up all the garbage junk food gifted that we’ve accumulated and the extra junk food I had purchased for Barkley (I literally wandered up and down the candy aisle with my list since I didn’t know where to find anything). As I shared how little junk food I consumed, a fellow ultrarunner admitted he consumed more junk food on a typical day.

For breakfast, I had a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar before I left home. I struggle to eat plain oatmeal and my kids often call me out for adding sugar to my oatmeal, but today, I needed the fuel and enjoyed the guilt-free sugar.

My nutrition during the attempt consisted of the following

5 bananas plus one immediately before starting
1 Mammut
2 Craisins
1 quart of milk with protein powder
1 sandwich baggie of potato chips
4 biscotti cookies
3 sandwiches consisting of whole wheat bread, two slices of cheddar cheese, and turkey sandwich meat
About 1.5 gallons of Tailwind with about 1 cup of protein powder

Generally I like to consume roughly half my calories as liquid. In this attempt it was roughly about 2/3 of my calories. I lined up four bottles so I could several hours between fill ups (where I hoped a supporter would be willing to top them off for me to save precious time.) Although nearly the entire effort was solo, I’m very grateful to the four individuals that bopped in throughout the effort.

Although I love to eat and looked forward to enjoying a day of guilt-free sugar and junk food, for most of the attempt nothing appeased me. But I found that two to three bites of sandwich between guzzles of Tailwind laced with protein powder were working so I decided to finish the attempt continuing with that method and that’s 100% of my fuel for laps 50 onward.

Low point

Unlike my training sessions I added protein powder to nearly all my Tailwind and took Endurolytes every hours. In fact, my low point was repeats 20-29. I intended to take electrolytes every hour, but had forgotten the first four hours until I hit a mini-wall. When I noticed I felt slightly dizzy it hit me I had forgotten! At least it was easy to correct. I realized on all four of my prior monster training sessions this was my low point and I wondered if my energy pathway was also switching from glycogen to fat as well. On top of that, my knees were slightly sore on the descents, my Morton’s neuroma was becoming known, and I had a hot spot on my right foot, on top of my eroding lap times. I extrapolated, knowing these things tend to snowball and was worried about the condition I’d be in if I was only 30% done. I took off my right shoe to put on more Bag Balm and unbeknownst to me, that would be the only time I’d sit down or take a shoe off the entire attempt.

My only moment of panic was when I misstepped on my bad ankle descending on the start of repeat 9 and lost some time as I hobbled it off (and then less severely on repeat 68). I told myself I always can run it off and kept going. Luckily it wasn’t catastrophic, and the soreness subsided.

Coming together

Not only did I set out to record the first Everesting in the state of Wisconsin, but I had an audacious goal to break the American women’s record of 17 hours 43 minutes. However, based on my prior repeats, I knew it was likely I’d fall off my pace around the 2/3 mark. Additionally, the current record holder, legendary Magda Boulet, had won some of the most prestigious races around the world including Western States 100, Leadville 100, and Marathon des Sables, plus was an Olympian. On the other hand, I didn’t even look like a runner. Other than my running shoes, I sported trekking pants (I would have used running tights except I needed pockets to store my phone and husband’s Garmin to record the attempt), my Rail Riders adventure racing top, Nordic ski hat, and a mismatched pair of gloves I found several years ago.

Thoughts immediately after completing the Everesting attempt.

Nonetheless, I exceeded this stretch goal and comfortably eclipsed the prior record. The first thing out of my mouth following the event was, “That wasn’t nearly as hard as I expected. All the hard training has really paid off.” Although I had doubts going in of my fitness and hit a few bumps just 30% through, everything came together better than imagined. People often say a marathon doesn’t start until mile 20. When I hit repeat 48, only 2/3 of the way through, I had the confidence to be aggressive. I was conscientious to remain controlled since I still had 5 ½ hours to go and being overly aggressive would only result in a kamikaze crash and burn. I figured that I was feeling better than usual since all my other monster training sessions took place during my highest training volume weeks where the goal was to push my body to fatigue. And unlike those days, I wouldn’t be putting in another session the next day (or even that night).

Metered effort

Around halfway through, I discovered I had slowed by a minute on the descents, the easy part! I made a conscious effort to be aggressive on the downhills, utilizing my poles to stay upright and I was able to shave off 15-30 seconds. My poles weren’t only useful on the uphill, but they saved my quads and knees on the descents while keeping me upright. There were several times I would have fell had I not had the extra points on contact.

I kept track of laps by using my husband’s old Timex watch. I had an “Oh no!” moment was when I instinctively hit the lap button when I reached the turnaround at the bottom of lap 55, then hit it again. I spent the entirety of the climb thinking what I should do. I didn’t trust myself to recall to adjust all the laps (even subtracting two was getting to be challenging math for me). I needed to count my laps since I didn’t have a device that could accurately log and display the elevation gain while recording.

Everesting requires a Strava file and my phone was my primary recording device; however, it is not possible to see the elevation gain on the mobile app. My backup, my husband’s Garmin for his bike, displayed the total climb but was underreporting the climb and distance by about 40%. The obvious choice to track the climb would be my smartwatch, but unfortunately its battery life had taken a hit over the winter, only lasting five hours during workouts. So my smartwatch was stowed in my cooler for the final hours in case my phone died.

About 12 hours in, I did the math and if I averaged 17 minutes per repeat I’d stay on track to hit the American record. Based on my experience, I needed to maintain as much cushion as possible since any stops to pee, address blisters, or other stops would eat up my cushion. Towards the ends of my previous workouts, I was often averaging 16-17 minutes per a repeat. I also knew once it would get dark that I would hemorrhage more time. As night fell, the temperatures dipped. Under the glow of my headlamp I occasionally saw my breath and frequently saw snot and spit droplets spewing.

As I progressed, I double and triple checked my math (and asked others to verify!). Since the American women’s record was within grasp, I did not want it to slip through my fingers. I expected the amount of data to take several minutes to upload on Strava but I didn’t have enough cushion to sit and wait. If I had miscalculated (on my other long sessions I had miscounted 3 of the 4 times) or my data record was 1% lower than expected, I’d need to complete one more repeat. Therefore, I’d need to descend while it uploaded. I held my poles in one hand unable to use them for balance in the dark while I held my phone in the other. My descents had only taken five minutes, so I expected to be at the bottom and trudge all the way back up by the time it uploaded. I was only 1/3 of the way down when the number read 29,258 feet. I shouted with elation. The temperature hovered one degree above freezing, so I didn’t have the luxury of basking in my accomplishment since I knew my body temperature would plumet.

I challenged supporters to raise a dime per foot I climbed and the community met the challenge (although I was slightly faster!)

Thanking everyone for supporting the cause!

Despite my doubts, everything came together seamlessly. When most efforts hit the wall, I felt a surge that powered me to the finish line. The icing on the cake was that dozens of generous donors came together to raise a dime per foot I climbed for IRONBULL, to help promote healthy lifestyles for all ages and ability levels to also “Find Their Tough.”

Banner photo: With the help of dozens of supporters we reached the goal of raising a dime for each foot climbed!

Related:

Wausau resident sets American record Wausau Pilot & Review
Preparations for Failure Part 3 - Gear
Preparations for Failure Part 2 - Mental Training
Preparations for Failure Part 1 - Physical Training