Training For Everest

From the time I decided 100% that Everest was a go, I had 518 days of training. Some of these were recovery days from a climb, and there were the occasional days off for rest, but I often went months at a time without a break. When I left on April 12th, I had an active streak since December 30th when I flew back from Aconcagua. At my peak, I put in 2-3 hours a day during the week, and some longer sessions on weekends. Training was a part-time job.

My training was built around 7 types of workouts:

Stairs: Using the stair machine, I put in time getting used to the motion of climbing uphill. 

Runs: My staple sport comes easy to me while for others this is their method of torture. However, I had to back off the running to get the body type better suited to climbing. This meant cutting long runs and not running daily. I wanted to have great cardio but also keep strength. 

Core: Doing core work, from planks to ab movements, was crucial. All movement starts with core. Strong legs were great, but I needed a core to stabilize the carrying of a pack for hours on end. 

Bike: Great for the quads, which needed to be strong for the uphill battle, plus good cardio. I did almost all of the cycling on the stationary bike using Zwift. 

Lift: Hitting the weights is my weakness. It bores me, and I struggle to put on weight. Sessions were usually 30 minutes and I took on 3 sets of 15 reps. To bulk up more, I should have done more weight with less reps but when I did, I would struggle on other activities, so I compensated. My rest is almost 0 when lifting as I go from one exercise to the next, almost like a HIIT routine.

Hike: The most applied of the training, hikes included expedition climbing as well as weekly hikes with a pack. I was able to do training hikes of 5 hours with 40lbs in the pack (just for training; on expeditions, days were often longer). Other times, I set the treadmill to max incline (about 15%) and hiked it out. This comprised the highest amount of minutes in my week, mostly due to the relevance to the end goal, but also because it is low intensity. I must say I hated almost all of it.

HIIT: High-intensity interval training - The quickest way to get into shape, this is a lot of body weight reps with short breaks. These kicked my ass and melted the pounds. However, after the first half of training, I had to abandon these workouts as I was losing weight when I needed to keep it on. Squats and glutes also fell into this category, mostly because I didn't have a better place to put them. Squat sessions maxed out at 1000 reps. 

Here are my totals for the training window:

My core work was over 60 hours. Start now and do a plank or crunches while you watch all six Rocky movies....6 times. 

I spent nearly 100 hours climbing stairs. That is the equivalent of climbing the 102 floors of the Empire State Building 305 times.

Almost 12500 minutes were conducted running, low volume for me but still enough to have run the distance from Chicago to New York City....and back. 

Speaking of NYC, I put in enough miles on the bike to go from East Coast (NYC) to West Coast (LA). 

I don't pump a lot of iron, but when I do, I lifted weights for as long as it would take you to watch all 3 of The Hobbit movies followed by all 3 of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, and still have time leftover too drive from Detroit to to the Mackinac Bridge.

21311 minutes is a long time to hike, most of it uphill, with a heavy pack, or both. Assuming flatland pace, this is like hiking the 22 miles from Base Camp to the top of Everest, and doing it 50 times.

They say to do the least fun, or the worst exercise there is, do a burpee. Just reach up to the sky, bend down, jump back, jump in, and jump up. Now repeat that 57,600 times for two full days, including nights, you have the amount of time that I did HIIT workouts. Thankfully, they weren't all burpees.

Diet

I didn't change much in my diet as I try to eat fairly balanced, but I did make two significant changes. The first was that I cut out alcohol since September. This saved endless empty calories and allowed for more focus and better sleep. Consequently, I ate out less and therefore had fewer burgers and pizzas. To make up for the void in calories, I found myself snacking more and adding dessert to my meal plan. 

I took AG1 (Athletic Greens) to help get the right vitamins and nutrients. I also added a hefty scoop of protein powder to my morning cereal everyday, hoping that the additional protein would help with muscle gain. It certainly didn't, and I have to say I think that's a scam. That, or I just was training so hard that even a little supplement couldn't keep the weight on. 

Hypoxic Training

To simulate a higher altitude while at home, I slept in a tent that was connected to a generator that pumped in air with less oxygen. Over the period of 2 months prior to each of my climbing endeavors over the last year and a half, I slept in this tent (accounting or over 6 months or 1/3 of the time I spent training for the mountain). Sleeping at altitude alone is challenging as one often wakes up with a jerk, snorting from lack of air. But the tent makes it even worse. Many a night I awoke dripping in sweat with condensation from my breath and body lining the plastic walls. Even small movements lets out air lowering the level and making the tent less efficient. To improve this, I spent the last 9 weeks before the expedition sleeping alone, but because the tent did not fit on our extra bed, I had to sleep on a mattress pad on the floor. This meant waking with an achy back every morning. I was able to simulate about 6,400 m at the highest and over 6,000 m most nights. My experience on the South American trips showed that this did in fact speed acclimatization. 

Intermittent hypoxic training

Reading in the tent

Below is a video showcasing most of the workouts I used to get ready:

I don't love the shirtless selfie-in-the-

mirror and this is probably the first I've ever taken but it's the end result of the training. I didn't take a before and after picture and while my body type doesn't change much, I certainly added muscle and reduced fat.

Stairs to the Top of Everest

In February 2024, just a few months after starting the Everest training, I stumbled upon a challenge in Warsaw to climb the height of Everest, from sea level to summit, by stairs. It was an exciting challenge on its own, yet the connection to my goal, still more than a year out, was too attractive to pass up. Ignorant of the impact, I signed up and showed up. These initial steps were among the most successful of the journey, because the latter ones would end in pain.

To obtain the height of Everest, one must ascend the 42 floors of the Skyliner building a whopping 55 times! At the top was water, and a participant would have to descend three flights of stairs afterward before catching a freight elevator to the ground floor and starting all over again. While the event lasted 24-hours, there were different starting times allocated to participants based on when they signed up, and I got started several hours later than others. However, figuring there was an interval in between each ascension (the elevator down) and frequent hydration opportunities, I could power my way through this thing and recover quickly coming down. How wrong I was.

To say I was properly trained at that point would be lofty. Sure, the fitness was there, but I didn’t even start stair work until after the New Year, and that gave me just 11 times on the machine before the event (I would later put in 3 sessions per week on that machine as well as squats and weights, just to compare how ill-prepared I was for this specific endeavor). The clock turned 11:00am and my wave was admitted to the stairwell. Blasting past others, I flew up each flight, pulling on the railing and taking the steps a few at a time. Pacing was clearly not the primary objective. Going out too hard on any endurance event usually leaves the competitor wasted and incapable of continuing at some point later on. That was my fate, but it would take a few hours to come to fruition. No, it wasn’t just the pace that got me; the humidity was a killer. It was a chilly winter in Poland, but that stairwell was heated and had no ventilation. With each hour passing by, more and more sweaty individuals poured in, dripping their way to the top, creating a sauna. My history was against me, and soon the body lost its nutrients as dehydration closed in. Previously blowing by others, I was now being passed by older people, talking women, and big dudes who had no business beating me in a test of endurance. The tables had turned, and I was getting my comeuppance.

Sitting on a step, it became clear that I was never going to finish this thing, and to keep going much longer, my fate would be met with cramping and fatigue at the least, hospitalization and death at the most. Determined to hit some sort of milestone, I limped on after frequent breaks, and eventually crested the halfway point of the challenge. But that was the end for me. Over 7 hours had elapsed since my start time but with the descent and breaks needed, I only spent about 4.5 hours climbing stairs. Showering was a challenge as the body began to turn, locking up and spasaming. It was a pathetic withdrawal, one that mirrored too many other ultramarathon events, leaving me in significant doubt about my abilities and my body.


A little over a year later, my training was in full effect, and the chance to go for the Everest stair challenge again rose. With just under a month to go until the real expedition started, this seemed like the perfect peak to the training. I would go big for a few weeks, culminating with this stair challenge, and then maintain fitness leading up to the departure to Asia. My work on the stair machine was much more frequent in the year since the disastrous first attempt, and adding squats, lifting, and hiking with a weighted pack had to be beneficial. To test my resolve, I hopped on the machine one week prior to the main event and I did 5 hours straight on the stairs, taking in a manageable pace, and eating and drinking along the way. Over time, it became more manageable, and I succeeded in hitting 58% of the height of Everest in that time with no breaks. My body held up enough to do a 4-hour weighted backpack hike the next day with little repercussion. It was time to go back and do it right, with patience, with focus, and leave the ego at the door.

March 2025

13 months ago, I failed. Today, I would succeed, but like most stories of success, I have little to report. The best stories come from failure or consequence. We never seem to learn by doing it right; the lesson is only revealed when we do it wrong. Equipped with 5 outfit changes, 10 granola and protein bars, a gel, and about 10 liters of fluid, I was determined to correct one error from the year before. When the 9:00am gun went off to signal the start of the 24-hour stair climb, I settled in behind people, steadfast on fixing my other crucial error from last year, going out too hard. Resetting my mind to the gym where the machine clicks away at a steady pace, I never pushed, took the steps mostly one at a time, and never touched the handrails. The purpose behind this was two-fold. First, like jugging up a fixed rope, the more efficient tactic is to not pull on the line and use energy to haul oneself up the slope. The same rationale proved useful on the stairs. Last year, I wore biking gloves, as did many people, to aid in pulling on the handrails. This caused a faster pace with more muscle groups involved, and it wasted energy. Like anyone who has completed an ultramarathon can tell you, it is shockingly easy to go too hard in the first quarter of a race. What seems excessively easy early on becomes pathetically difficult in the latter stages of a race. Not to be a fool and repeat this mistake (well, this time, anyway), I stayed steady, checking myself when passing others to not alter the flow. The other reason not to pull on the handrails should be obvious: it's disgusting. Call me a germ-a-phobe if you will, but 300 sweaty people pulling on railings nearly 100 times each, combined with sweat, saliva, and snot is just a recipe for a problem.

Stopping briefly every 2-4 ascents, I would grab food and drink to consume along the way. The steady input of calories and fluids warded off the bonk, at least for a while. This worked for a long time, that is, until the body turned, then no amount of fluid or food could save me. But that was hours away. The time ticked by, buffeted by podcasts and music, seeing increasingly familiar faces on the way up or down, although little conversation was had. For me, speaking no Polish in this event, I essentially said nothing for the whole day. Solitude suited me just fine at this point because topics were limited. You can look like a real ass commenting on the weather while in a stairwell.

Rolling through halfway (my stopping point the year before), all systems were go. After every 11 ascents of the stairs, I stopped to change my clothes, which were soaked through at that point. This meant waiting in line for a single-use bathroom, changing, and resorting the phone, headphones, and gear before setting off again. Each of these four scheduled pitstops cost me an additional 8-10 minutes, but worth it to get dry again. Furthermore, the clock never stops running, but after the first ascent, your split time for the next includes a descent of 3 flights of stairs and then an elevator for the 39 floors back to the bottom before climbing the 42 floors again. Stopping for water at the top or the bottom did cost time, as did going down the stairs to the elevator. But this is the unpredictable part. When luckily, you got to the elevators, stepped in, the door shut, and you were thrust down to the ground floor. However, other times you rounded the corner to see a line of 20 people waiting. Two elevators ran, so the wait was never more than a few minutes, but the max capacity was about 10-12 people, so there were times when we had to wait for the second elevator to return. Stuffed in like sweaty, stinky sardines, I became woozy a few times on the descent.

But as happened last year, and in many ultramarathons, my body did not respond to the sweat loss (it is very humid in the stairwell as 300 people ventured up and down thousands of times between them, creating a sauna). Slowly, the stomach went south, food was no longer appealing (and therefore I lacked calories), and swallowing anything wasn't happening (more dehydration). I finished and avoided the leg cramps and spasms that were certain to come. Had I been destined for a faster pace or intent on going beyond the height of Everest, I would have had to stop and recover, reset, and pace better in the final 15 ascents or I would have reached the same fate. 

On the final entry to the stairwell, I slapped the Mt. Everest sign (many mountains, their altitude, and the number of ascents required to reach them had been posted on the doorway to the stairs, with Everest at the top). I probably pushed slightly harder on the last trip up, knowing that I did not need to save energy, but I didn't change much and had about the same split. Really the only talking I did was to a Frenchman who noticed my Marathon du Medoc shirt (which I had changed into for my last rotation set) as he had been wearing the same addition earlier in the day. At 30 ascents, he was content to reach the height of Mont Blanc, while I told him this was my last. That was it. Like zombies we all trudged on, arms hanging limply at our sides, faces expressionless. With the music blaring out of the speaker, I crested the top for the final time and touched my tag to the scanner; the resulting message on the screen appeared too briefly to make note. Then I was done, handing in my chip and getting my certificate after 55 ascents to the top of the building for more than 8900m climbed via stairs.

The only conversation I had in 14 hours, just minutes left to go till the finish. 

That night was a late one and uncomfortable at that. While I went for an hour walk the next day to shake out the legs, my stomach remained sour, muscles tight, and head cloudy. Another day of light cycling and the internal systems returned to normal, although it took a few more days to train without discomfort or emptyness. It may not have been the ideal event right in the peak of training, but it was something I needed to do. Not only did I show that I could soldier up for 14 hours, but I came back an erased that DNF, proving to myself that I alone controlled the outcome of my day. 

Roughly translated it says "You are an idiot."

The lady taking the picture made me pose like this!

Everest - We Have A Date

With under 70 days (69 in fact, cue giggles) left, it is now official: April 13th marks Day 1 of the expedition. The itinerary has come through after many months of asking for it. The delay seems to be due to the precedent set by China last year in which they postponed the issuance of Tibet climbing permits until early May. Many people bailed on their climbs, some switched to the Nepal side, and a few trained in Nepal and ran across the border for a shot at the summit in a slim window in May. My guide says they believe CTMA will issue the permits in "mid-April" so we have to hope. We are anticipating not heading to Tibet immediately upon arrival. 

Rather than sitting in Kathmandu (low elevation) and losing my pre-acclimatization waiting for a permit that might not come, the plan is to fly into the foothills, trek up for about 11 days to a high camp, and then make a bid on Mera Peak (6476m), stay up near the summit a couple of nights, and descend, flying back to Kathmandu at the end of April. By this time, fingers crossed, the permits to Tibet will be waiting. 

Now early May, we will fly north and then drive across the Nepal/Tibet border as this is said to be more friendly and less bureaucratic than Lhasa (where we originally planned to fly). From there, we'd drive for about 3 days, working our way to Base Camp. After a few days of setting up camp, sorting gear, and resting, we have the Puja Ceremony and then head up the mountain. The plan would be to work up to Advanced Base Camp, do one or more rotations to some higher camps, and give the summit a go in late May.

As good as it feels to have a clearer picture of the plan, I am a little anxious. I never wanted to spend time in Nepal (tourists hiking in the region transport stomach and respiratory illness between stuffy tea houses along the route, and hygiene is questionable). The benefit of climbing from the north is that you can basically stare at Everest every day of the climb, and this will be short. The relative comforts of base camp will also be limited, which can help leave climbers primed for a good summit bid. But mostly, I am paranoid that the late issuance of the permit will put us in a position where we aren't ready when a good weather window opens and/or one doesn't and we run out of time before getting a good shot at the top. 

Regardless, the training continues. 

Gear - Sleeping

Sleeping up high is a challenge. No need to make it worse. Also, staying warm during extremely cold nights can also save energy or your life. 

• Pillow - Sea to Summit Aeros Premium and Big Angus pillow
• Sleeping bag Liner - Sea to Summit Reactor
• Sleeping Pads - Thermarest Prolite; Big Angus Boundry Deluxe
• Basecamp Sleeping Bag - Marmot Never Summer 0F
• Altitude Sleeping Bag - Mountian Hardware Lamina -30F

Gear - Climbing

On most other climbs, the climber has to bring a lot of items that are essential to staying on the mountain, like rope, ice screws, cams, quickdraws, stoves, gas, etc. Luckily, on Everest, the mountaineering association fixes all the ropes, significantly cutting down weight for individual teams. The support members will have tents and stoves set up in the camps as well. But there is plenty that has to be on me in order to make my way up and down. 

• Crampons: Black Diamond Sabertooth - These are used from the bottom of the North Col to the summit and back. Difficult to use over rock and scree, they are essential on snow and ice, and they are too difficult to take off and put on repeatedly so they stay on. 
• Trekking Poles: Black Diamond Expedition 3 - Poles help on the long hike in, and some climbers use them on the upper slopes in place of an axe for balance. 
• Ice Axe: Black Diamond Raven Pro - The tool of the mountaineer. The axe acts as a stabilizer with every step, and the pick can be used for self-arrests or to aid in steeper sections. The adez helps chop out snow (cutting steps from long ago, and for making platforms now). 
• Spatha Knief - Sometimes you gotta cut stuff.
• Petzel Ascender - Crucial for the fixed ropes, this device attaches to a rope and slides up, but it won't slide down. While it can add some aid to the climber, it is also a safety measure. 
• Belay: Black Diamond Super 8 and Black Diamond ATC - for use in belaying climbers and repelling/abseiling down the ropes. 
• Harness: Black Diamond Couloir - My harness is super lightweight because it is not used for taking hard falls off a rock wall; rather, it is flexible and thin, but strong enough to keep me tied to anchors and the rope. 
• Locking Carabiners and William Tri-Act Locker
• Mountain Hardwear 800-fill down jacket
  - When things are very cold, or when standing around at camps or at the base of a pitch, a thick jacket can really add a lot of warmth. 
• Mountain Hardwear Absolute Zero Down Suit - The ultimate high-altitude clothing. Worn over a couple of base layers, this suit is worn from the higher camps up to the summit and back. 

I'll need something to haul all my gear in as well:

• Backpacks Arc'teryx Bora 95 and Gregory Forester
• Bag: REI Camp 4 Duffel (130L)

Gear - Hands

Hands are the extremities of the body, meaning the higher you go and the colder it gets, the less blood gets pumped to these areas. Not only can frozen hands become very painful, but if they don't recover, they can become damaged and require amputation. More immediately, if you cannot work your hands, you cannot work the belay devices, the ascender, and the ropes. This is a major obstacle in getting down safely. 

• Marmot Expedition Mitts - My old major mittens are of the highest quality. The absolute best things to have on the hands when it's cold, but these mitts make working the ascender and carabineers challenging. 
• Outdoor Research Alti II Mittens - A substitute for the above, these are of equal quality and fit tighter, meaning that it is easier to work the ropes and tackle. I think they are too small for me and I will likely leave them. 
• Black Diamond Guide Gloves - Made for serious cold, these have the advantage of 5 digits; however, up really high, they might not be enough for safe use. Gloves are colder than mitts, so these might not be used with any regularity. 
• Outdoor Research Highcamp 3-Finger Gloves - The benefits of a mitt with added dexterity, allowing more warmth than a glove but a little more maneuverability. 
• Outdoor Research Stormtracker Sensor Gloves - For warmer days or for a mid-layer, these are light, fit tight, and add some protection from sun, wind, and cold. 
• Black Diamond Midweight Softshell - like the above, these can stand alone or be used under a mitt. 
• Lightweight gloves - useful for a base layer, these add minimal warmth but also keep the skin from being exposed when the outer layers need to come off (for opening packs, taking pictures, etc.).

Not Pictured: Packages of Hand Warmers 

Gear - Feet

Protecting the feet is paramount as you need them to walk and walking is what gets you up and down the mountain. 

• Approach: Mountain Wearhouse Extreme - These are all-conditions boots that are fine in town and can go up to Advanced Base Camp. They will be warm enough for the lower mountain and keep out some of the scree and water encountered along the way which can create blisters. 
• Double w/ Overboot: La Sportiva Olympus Mons - The king of mountaineering boots. An inner boot is tight to the foot, stabilizing the ankle and keeping the heat in. Then there is the outer boot which is firm to support crampons, add protection from the cold, the rock, and snow, and has a large overboot to protect from snow getting in as well as self-kicks from the crampons ruining pants. 
• Lounging: Flip Flops - easy on/off around camp when putting on the big boots is just too much effort. 
• Tent: Sierra Designs Down Booties - Pure luxury, these come on at the end of the day, good for keeping the piggies toasty. 
• Socks: lots: Smartwool Mountaineering Max, Everyday Diamond, etc. “There is one item of GI gear that can be the difference between a live grunt and a dead grunt: socks, cushioned soled OD green. Try and keep your feet dry while we're out humping. I want you to remember to change your socks whenever we stop. The Mekong will eat a grunt's feet right off his legs. There are two standing orders in this platoon. One, take good care of your feet, and two, try not to do anything stupid, like getting yourself killed.”

All good advice, Lieutenant Dan. 

Not pictured: Hiking gaiters to keep the little rocks out of my shoes.