Mt. Whitney

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet.
Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved."
-Helen Keller

Warm Up

Strength/Skill
10 Pull Up Bar Muscle Ups

WOD
for time:
2 Squat Cleans @ 115#
10 HandStand PushUps
4 S Cleans
8 HSPU
6 SC
6 HSPU
8 SC
4 HSPU
10 SC
2 HSPU
8 SC
4 HSPU
6 SC
6 HSPU
4 SC
8 HSPU
2 SC
10 HSPU

Endurance
Timed 2 mile run

MENTAL

One year ago today, I was in a bit of a pickle.
I was 200 feet away from the summit of Mount Whitney, (the highest summit in the contiguous United States, located in the Sierra Nevadas in California) and my head felt as if it was seconds from splitting open.

Two days before a friend called, saying two of his crew heading to climb Mt. Whitney had dropped out and asked if I and another buddy of mine wanted to use the passes.
I was in before he had even finished asking.
The next day we were in the truck heading northeast to the Sierra's.
I've hiked, climbed and skied many mountains and to be honest Whitney is not a difficult hike at all but from past experience the worst mistake that one can make is being under-prepared. I don't mean physically, but as far as supplies like food, water, clothing, etc.
My friend and I showed up extremely unprepared. I could blame it on only knowing about this excursion a day in advance, but either way I didn't bring the proper amount of food or water.

Sunday Morning we headed out of camp around 2:30 a.m. to start our ascent.
Immediately due to my friends "equipment failure" (bad choice of shoes) we fell behind the group. Waaaay behind the group. This was the first time my friend (we'll call him M haha)
had been at an elevation higher than 7,000 feet. I had noticed he had not eaten a thing at breakfast and hadn't been drinking anything either. We were a good 4 to 4 1/2 hours in and to my knowledge he still hadn't had an ounce of food or water and that's when he started feeling ill. We were at Trail Camp which is 6.3 miles into the hike at an elevation of 12,040 feet (we started at 8,365 feet)—many people start to succumb to the altitude here. I told him that if he was already getting a headache it was most likely altitude sickness beginning, and he needed to start hydrating. I on the other hand had been eating small amounts every 20 to 30 minutes and I was hammering my water supply.
Trail Camp is just before the infamous 99 switchbacks that lead from Trail Camp to Trail Crest. M said he had to stop, his 'head was pounding'. I asked if he wanted me to descend with him back to base camp, because he would probably feel better there. He said no and told me to go on, so I did.
To give you an idea of how daunting the switchbacks actually are, here are some statistics, from the beginning of the switchbacks to the end of the trail is 2.2 miles and in that distance you gain 1,620 feet, that averages out to 736 feet per mile



I was feeling very good at the time so I began to hustle to catch up with the group we started with. We were carrying radios, so from what they told me they were a good hour or so ahead of me. I eventually caught up to them, just 200 feet from the summit. But at a great cost. I had eaten all of my food and my water was long gone. My head felt like a jack hammer was inside of it trying to get out.
We summited and the descent was the most excruciating pain I have ever been in. The other 2 guys I summited with were trying to beat their previous round trip time and immediately took off on their descent. I, once again, fell way behind.
My vision was slightly blurry and my head was in so much pain that the smallest movements took everything I had. I knew that descending was the only way I'd feel better.
From the summit back to the 99 switchbacks I didn't pass a single person. It's a good 2 1/2 to 3 mile hike from summit to the switchbacks and during that time I felt more alone than I ever have in my entire life. All I wanted to do was lay down and curl into a ball, but the every time that I came close to submitting the tiniest voice in my head said, 'no, keep moving'. I purposely wrote that in lower case letters because it wasn't like my the voice was yelling, telling me 'Hell yeh Dude Tough It Out!', no it was like a tiny whisper encouraging me just enough. By the time I made it to the 99 switch backs I honestly wondered what would feel worse, falling off this Mountain or allowing this headache to continue. I began the daunting switchbacks and about a quarter of a mile down I ran into a father and his two sons. They gave me water and food which didn't do anything immediately, but I was beyond grateful. Just as I was leaving them, the father said, 'the quicker you get down the better you'll feel. So hurry'. And I did.
I began jogging down, thank God I have never had a knee injury because they were taking a pounding. Once I reached the bottom of the 99, almost immediately my headache began to subside. The two friends who had left ahead of me from the summit and my buddy M who I had last seen at the bottom of were all gone. So I continued to quickly descend. I eventually caught them and we hiked the rest of the way out.
The point of all that rambling is that I learned a great deal about myself that day.
Simply put, I learned that I will never quit. Ever.
I do not want to be dramatic here because I know that people have been in far worse situations and had greater obstacles, but to me at the time that was the most physical suffering I'd ever been in. My entire body said Stop, lay down, quit, give up. But something inside simply said no.
In times of suffering, we truly learn our strengths. I once read a biography by a former S.E.A.L., and in it he told about a mission gone wrong where he and the 4 other mean with him had all been shot but had a 10 march and swim to get their extraction point. He said the reason he made it through it was because he kept thinking back to his Hell Week and thought I went through that I can make it through this.

The tough times in life will either break you or make you. You get to decide.

Looking back a year later, I realize now that I was not alone on that mountain.
Because only God's whisper could be powerful enough to keep me going.
Stay Strong. Stay Tough. Listen to that whisper that crosses your mind each day.
He's showing you the way.