7 months ago (pre widespread Covid outbreak), in February 2020, I made a commitment to run the Cascade Crest 100 mile ultra trail race in August.  It was a bucket list item, one of the iconic ultras in the Pacific Northwest.  The plan was set.  The training program in place.  I cleared off other obligations in my life to dedicate the time to do this the right way.  Well, you probably know part of the story already, that the race was cancelled, along with thousands of others around the globe.  So I redirected my energy to a self-supported running event in Mt. Rainier National Park.  Here is how it went so wrong but ended up so right.

The Wonderland Trail is a grueling 93 mile single track circumnavigation of Mt. Rainier that exposes you to some of the most amazing views of this 14,400 foot peak while taking you on a journey with a punishing 26,000 feet of climbing.  It is not a “walk in the park” and the “self-supported” nature means that one has to carry all their food and contingency provisions with them on their back. 

It is not uncommon to do the Wonderland in 7-10 days.  We planned about 30 hours.  It wasn’t my first rodeo on the Wonderland.  About 5 years ago, a friend of mine, Dave Braza, and I did it in 33 hours, caught in a rainstorm for about 15 hours of it.  So coming into the weekend of August 16, 2020, the conditions were going to be perfect.  We got this! Right?

I’m going to alert you right now that I am an Enneagram Type 3, an Achiever.  It basically says that I want to be successful and admired by other people and am very conscious about my public image.  I feel a little exposed here but hey, the results are the results. There are very healthy Type 3 styles and like anything else, very unhealthy Type 3 styles.  This is not a psycho-analysis article but maybe it’s relevant here.  Note, the very fact that I am writing this article is likely a very Enneagram Type 3 move.

Prep for a self-supported endurance event takes planning.  Aside from route logistics (which are pretty easy when running a well marked loop), planning is mostly nutrition and contingency related.  People ask how I could train for such an event and I remind them that after about 6 hours or so, it really comes down to nutrition, self care (proactively taping areas where you might blister or chafe), and managing your mind.  So after the hundreds of hours of running training and the early morning mountain escapes away from family and friends, it really isn’t about running at all.  Ah, the irony!

We started the run at 8:30am on August 15th, 2020.  A CFO, a lawyer, and two entrepreneurs  (I am sure there is a joke in there somewhere).  From the White River Campground with a breathtaking view of Emmons Glacier,  we headed through the forest until we broke out to a place called Panhandle Gap at about mile 12 or so.  Between our start and there, one of us lost a water bottle and our Steripen for purifying water.  Okay, well, you have to be adaptable and prepared for anything, right?

I’m not sure we were prepared for one of my companions to start uncontrollably vomiting around mile 20.  This was unexpected but can happen during endurance events and on hot days.  I can’t diagnose verifiably but he had all the symptoms of hyponatremia, a situation where you have a major electrolyte imbalance which can be life threatening.   Okay, so that’s an unexpected situation.  No problem.  We arrived at a road crossing, flagged down a car, cajoled the driver to take him (all wearing masks of course), and they took him to the closest ranger station.  We solve problems here people!

Like I had a pretty big problem at our next stop to get water about two hours later. I had my water bladder out to refill while standing on some rocks over the river.  I caught a brief flash of the blue top fall off my water container and proceed to float down said river.  I took a step to retrieve it and then thought better of it (the risks were too great).  Goodbye water storage device.  Fortunately I had a couple of water bottles too (contingency planning I tell you!).

There isn’t a lot of contingency for what the trail is going to throw at you though and the 33 miles or so from Longmire to Mowich Lake does not disappoint.  For the next 15 hours in the dark (yes, we run through the night), we climbed and descended some really difficult, uneven terrain.  My stomach was not feeling great either and the thought of having one more gel careening down my throat felt like death.  When you stop eating and you are exerting a lot of energy, that is a red flag for pain.  And I had it, in spades.

And then the demons come out a bit.  These are forces that takes great pleasure in your pain.  They entice you to succumb to negative thoughts.  They know you’re vulnerable.  For example, it was about 1am and I’m slogging up a 5 mile, 3,500 foot climb. My heart is racing. I’m not eating.  I thought to myself, “What if I had a heart attack or a stroke out here?  I would die.  That would be it.  I’d leave my wife and kids.  What the f*ck am I doing?”  This is a common demon tactic to bring in loved ones.  The other common demon strategy is to pit you against your fellow runners a bit.  One of my friends came down on me for being a bit too slow and I snapped back at him.  These are all things to be expected, but the force is strong.

We were struggling.  At 25 hours (9am on Saturday), we surfaced at Mowich Lake, having run about 100K.  We had another marathon plus distance to go which, at our current pace, was probably another 8-10 hours.  We decided not to continue.  But we needed to figure out how to get out of there. We initiated a multi-hour expedition to hitch rides to get back to our car which was nowhere close to Mowich.  That itself was an adventure.  We arrived back to our cars around 2pm for the 1.5 hour drive back to Seattle. Note: Our friend who was vomiting uncontrollably got help and is fine too!

Stopping at Mowich was not a hard decision and that is maybe the magic of this whole experience.  I love goals.  I love achieving them.  We did not achieve this goal.  But the takeaways are pretty important for me.  Here is what I learned:

1. If you always reach your goals, you’re not setting them high enough.  

   Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to complete the Wonderland.  But it wasn’t a guarantee and that’s the idea.  As we get older, our inclination to take risks goes down (our desire for both control and security goes up).  But if you don’t see your upper limit, you won’t know where it is and what you might be able to do in the future to break through it.

2. It is the unscripted parts of life where great adventure awaits.

   The whole orchestration of getting care for my vomiting friend (he does have a name but I’m going to protect that unless he gives me the green light) and then figuring out the logistics to get back to our start was super fun.  We met some great people who had a lot of empathy.  I am sure they felt like they were doing a good deed helping out three desperate souls.  Some great stories emerged from this that we will carry for a long time.

3. The only meaning in an activity is how you choose to define it.

   There was nothing inherently meaningful about a 93-mile trail around Mt. Rainier.  It was just there.  The trail doesn’t care if I ran around the whole thing or not and frankly, no one else does either.  I define the experience.  It is just my story.  

4. Friendships emerge from the unexpected.

   We connect through stories.  We bond through experiences.  As we get older, there just don’t seem to be as many stories created.  I definitely built some new and stronger friendships with my running partners because of the outcome.

5.  You can’t control all the variables.

   I can talk about the critical importance of nutrition and self care and fighting the demons, but the truth is that I don’t control what ultimately happens.  What I do control is how I respond when they arise and most importantly, what I learn about myself when they rear their head.  

So on 8/16/20, I did not complete a circumnavigation of the Wonderland Trail in Mt. Rainier National Park.  And...it was a super fun adventure.  Yes, it’s a little tough for an Enneagram 3 Type but I want to continue to welcome these moments of uncertainty where the script isn’t pre-defined and embrace the growth that comes out of it.