Jim :: Activities :: MSH

Part 1: My Year-Long Transformation

My first memory of my friend Brad is October 1986. We were on a Cub Scout camping trip at some campground in Northern NJ, accompanied by our fathers, who worked together. As we sat in the lean-to listening to Game 6 of the 1986 World Series (the Bill Buckner game!), we suddenly realized that Brad wasn’t with us. I found him lying face down on his sleeping bag, feet sticking out the door of the tent, with an empty can of Budweiser next to him. He was probably the first person in our 2nd Grade Class to pass-out drunk. This kid was my hero.

He was always very athletic. Me, not so much. While he was building a rock climbing wall in his backyard, I was building excuses not to leave the house. We grew apart after our initial early childhood friendship because of our drastically different interests. In High School we ran in different social circles, though they would overlap increasingly as time went on, which I suppose is pretty normal.

It wasn’t until he started dating a good friend of mine that we would rekindle our childhood friendship towards the end of our Junior year. From that point pretty much all the way through his time at Penn State we were very close, albeit less-so towards his graduation. He was the best man at my wedding in 2005, and after his wedding in 2006 the demands of our professional and family lives, different interests, and living on opposite coasts took its toll on our friendship. I hate talking on the phone, but will email or IM all day. Brad, on the other hand, is loathe to sit in front of a computer. This didn’t help either.

So in August 2009 when I found out – on Facebook, of all places – that his wife had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl, I picked up the phone to congratulate him. I had all but booked my flight out to Portland by the end of the conversation.

While I was visiting him he suggested that we take the drive a few hours north to the Mount St. Helens National Monument. I didn’t really have any interest in it, but didn’t have any other better ideas. At the very least it was something new and interesting for both of us to do. I was game.

My lack of interest ended at pretty much the exact moment I first saw the mountain. I was awestruck by its majesty, its beauty, its size, and the destruction it had caused. It was the first time in my life I felt small. It was humbling to witness the aftermath even now, 29 years after the eruption. It was one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever seen, and remains in my mind as one of the most incredible things I’ve ever done. I was at a loss for words. And it wasn’t long before I was also at a loss of breath.

Out of shape and overweight, it was a struggle to keep up with Brad on the various trails and overlooks around the Johnston Ridge Observatory. While he went for a quick jog, I sat and caught my breath, and just stared at the breach on the north side of the mountain. I realized right then why Brad and I had grown apart – we lead completely different lifestyles. His was active, adventurous, and interesting. Mine was sedentary, lethargic, and somewhat boring. I really began to regret that, and wished I had made more of an effort to be active, not just for my relationship with Brad, but for all the relationships in my life.

Back home, still impressed by what I had seen, I read everything I could about Mount St. Helens; its history, its eruption, and its recovery. On the mountain’s Wikipedia page I found a high-resolution panoramic photo taken from the crater rim on the day after I had visited with Brad. There was something inside of me that longed to touch with my own hands the mountain that could cause all that devastation. Initially I disregarded the inclination, but it stuck with me, and only grew more powerful. I had made up my mind: I was going to climb Mt. St. Helens. The only problem was that I was 235 lbs and hadn’t done any regular exercise since High School gym class. Obviously, that would have to change.

I broached the subject with Brad via TXT Message. He said it was possible, but I’d have to lose 25 pounds and run 10 miles without stopping. I replied “what about 10 pounds and 5 miles?” His reply really stuck with me: “fine, as long as you’re in shape. The mountain doesn’t negotiate.” I decided that I would return to Mt. St. Helens a year later, in shape and ready to climb. I set the date of 10/10/10 as my goal, and used it for motivation. It was a lofty goal, but a year? I could do it, though I wasn’t always sure.

I started jogging around my neighborhood, mainly run/walk intervals. By mid-November I had joined a gym, started going regularly, and eased into the “Couch-to-5K” running program which seemed perfectly suited for where I was and where I wanted to be. That went fine for a couple of weeks, until I really hurt my knee. At Thanksgiving I could barely walk. It turned out I had sprained my MCL. I had to take all of December off to do some Physical Therapy at home, and I really thought that I’d have trouble getting back to the gym. 10/10/10 was all but cancelled, I thought.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. By the end of December I was able to get back into low-impact cardio. I followed a muscle building/fat burning workout routine, and had a pretty good pattern going. I completely changed my diet. I didn’t go “on a diet”, I just started concentrating on nutritional value, such as fat content and calories, but mainly it was portion size that helped me lose weight initially. I didn’t deny myself anything, as long as it was a moderate amount.

I was at the gym pretty much every day by mid-January. This took its toll on life at home, since Deb, my Ex, was now responsible for making dinner, a task she was normally absolved from because she doesn’t get home from work until around 7PM. It was a struggle at first, but eventually we figured out how to make it work. Deb tried to inspire and motivate me, even if it meant she would see me less or it would require more work on her part.

I bought 4 Mount St. Helens climbing permits the day they went on sale, on February 1st. I was also now pretty far into C25K, and realized that I should probably look to actually run a 5K. It would be a good short-range goal that would help me meet my ultimate goal. I signed up for the “Komen for the Cure 5K” in Newark on April 25th, and raised $1,000 for Breast Cancer research in the process. With my generous friends and family behind me, I had no choice but to do the 5K and do it well.

In preparing for the 5K, it seemed that as soon as I’d make progress something would start dragging me down. If it wasn’t my knee, it was chafed nipples or what would end up being the bane of my existence: shin splints. I tried everything to ease the pain in my lower legs; all the stretches I could find, massaging my shins with frozen cylinders of ice, and finally proper running shoes. I would run through pain chasing a goal, and trained enough that I could run the whole 3.1 Miles without stopping. In a Spring deluge, I finished in 34:30. I really felt as if I had accomplished something, and it felt good.

My friend Jay was a huge inspiration to me during this time. He had lost way more than 100lbs over the past 18 months. He was a machine, doing 2-a-day workouts at the gym and gaining mad amounts of muscle. I went to him whenever I had a question, of which I had many, and countless times he provided me with excellent information. I don’t think I could have gotten through all of that without him.

Pretty soon I realized that all my clothes, especially my pants, weren’t fitting me anymore. Fortunately I had some smaller-sized clothing from before I had put on weight, though I did have to buy some things. There’s something really motivating and gratifying when you see a material, tangible change like that. It made me push harder and harder.

As the weather began getting warmer, I started hitting local trails with my friend and neighbor Steve. He had been really into hiking in the past, and was looking to get back into it now that he’d moved to NJ. We did a few of the most challenging hikes in North Jersey, and had a great time. Doing these hikes I learned what gear I would need, and he always had excellent tips (sock liners!). Steve was also a good running partner, as we’d head to the local track a few times. His slow, steady pace was good for me since I was still afraid I’d injure something. Not to mention that our conversations were fun and interesting, so the time flew by.

After an intense hike with Steve, I realized that I was definitely going to be ready for my climb. On July 15, I booked the airfare to Portland. There was no going back now! Unfortunately the date would be the first weekend in October as opposed to 10/10/10 because Brad’s father and wife were going to be running the Portland Marathon on 10/10. But that didn’t matter to me anymore; I didn’t need numbers to motivate me like I did 9 months prior.

By mid-summer my gym workouts were getting more and more intense, I was increasing my mileage to 5-7 miles 3 times a week, and I was doing a strength training regimen that was geared towards rock climbers. My sessions at the gym were lasting 2+ hours. I started skipping lunch and leaving work early so I could get home in time to spend some time with Deb before bed.

Then, all of a sudden, it was September. My climb was just a month away. I began to scale back my workouts out of fear of fatigue and injury, which was convenient because my boss didn’t care why I was skipping lunch and leaving at 4PM, he just wanted it to stop. I was so excited, so ready… I couldn’t wait to get out on the mountain.

After a year of pain, struggle, and progress, I left for Portland weighing 185. I had lost 50 pounds - double the weight Brad said I’d need to lose. He admitted to me while I was out there that he had “taken the under” and didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I always knew I could, my question was whether I would. Now we know the answer: “hell yes”

I was asked recently what I attribute my success to. There were a few key factors that I think are universal enough to help anyone. Firstly, it’s amazing how much can be accomplished with just a healthy diet and exercise. The hard part is keeping it up. That’s where the short-term goals really helped me. Instead of a goal that was still months away with no real way to measure my progress, I set a series of short-term goals as milestones. That way I really felt like I was accomplishing something, even months before my main objective.

Something that really helped me, and I realize everyone may not need this kind of motivation, is that I made myself accountable to others. On that rainy morning in April I may not have gone to run the Komen 5K if I hadn’t asked people for donations. But if I didn’t run it, I’d be letting them down. I also told everyone I possibly could about my goal of climbing the mountain, so there would be a lot of people I’d have to explain my failure to if I didn’t make it to the top.

If I had started off a year ago by saying “I want to get in shape by next October” without setting any actual goals, I’m not sure I would have stuck with it. It’s a lot easier to let go of something that isn’t real. I set a tangible, attainable goal, and made myself accountable to it by purchasing the permits 8 months ahead of time, among other things. Not only would it be a tremendous waste of money to not go through with it, but to see those permits sitting on my desk at home knowing that I failed would be tormenting.

Instead, I sit here having done what I set out to do, and planning my next challenge.

To Be Continued….

>> Read my Trip Report for my Mount St. Helens Climb <<

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