D.N.F.

Three letters, each taken on its own, pretty innocuous…

Thanks to my friend Alan Portnoi for this expedition report:

The 1st and the 3rd could potentially hurt if you're a high school junior dreaming about Harvard or Princeton.

The 3 taken together (in that order mind you) is the death knell for endurance athletes.

For an endurance athlete, it’s as bad as it gets.

For an endurance athlete, it’s a complete failure.

I hate those letters.

D stands for “DID”, N stands for “NOT” and F stands for “FINISH”, or taken together “DID NOT FINISH”.

After completing multiple Ironman races and marathons, on November 19th, I took a D.N.F. and it’s still not sitting well with me.

Each year, I try to put an event on the calendar that’s epic. Something that defines my year, something to train for, something to grow from. This year it was Everest Base Camp. EBC has been on my bucket list for a few years, it is a 14 day hike starting from Lukla, Nepal and ending 41 miles later at Everest Base Camp. Lukla is about 8,500 feet above sea level and Base Camp is about 19,500 feet above sea level.

I started training in early June. My mother-in-law bought me a Wild Gym rucksack for my birthday. I was looking at multiple days of hiking uphill (some days as much as 2,0000 ft) and I knew I was going to be carrying about 10-12 lbs in my backpack. The stairmaster in my gym and Sweetness (more on that later) were going to be my best friends for the next five months. I started most days as I usually do, walking the dog. Except now, I did it with 20 lbs in my rucksack. Each month, I added 10 pounds and ultimately got up to 60 lbs. GaGa (my dog) was a little embarrassed at first because I was the only daddy carrying around a rucksack, dripping with sweat.

After the market closed (about 3 days a week) I went to the gym to use the stairmaster. I usually put about 30 lbs in my rucksack. I worked my way up to 60 minutes; it was brutal. On Friday mornings at 6:15, I would meet my friend Neil and we would climb the only local hill in my area (it’s called Sweetness). We would usually hike for about an hour.

After a couple months, I could feel my legs and core getting stronger. I really started feeling like I was going to be ready but the one thing I knew I couldn’t train for was the elevation. I once battled altitude sickness on a ski trip out west and as my friend Shawn so perfectly put it “it’s like having a spear going through the back of your head”. The owner of the tour group I was using told me my best bet was to take altitude sickness pills (Diamox) twice a day and drink at least 4 liters of water a day, which I did…

On November 8th I boarded a plane heading to Nepal. After a 16 hour flight, I arrived in Kathmandu, exhausted but excited to start my journey. A few hours later, I met the guys in my group for the first time. We had a group of eight, five were from the UK, one was from Australia, one from St. Louis and myself (New Jersey). We met with a representative from the tour group. She spent about 90 minutes prepping us on the dangers of altitude sickness but also the dangers of the Yaks. It seems like they occasionally enjoy brushing up against hikers on the trail and if you're on the wrong side of the trail it could potentially be disastrous. OK, note to self, as soon as you hear the Yak bells, get to the mountain side of the trail fast.

The next 4-5 days were pretty amazing. We hiked about 8 hours a day. The mountains were magnificent and I must have said “wow” 100 times. The guys from the UK were really funny and I learned a lot about the Premier League. I was having trouble sleeping but was told that was a strong possibility. We were already at 13,000 ft of elevation and I knew we had some big climbs ahead. By the 5th day, not only was I having trouble sleeping but I was also having a little trouble breathing.

By day 7, I started to feel my legs get very heavy. The group was really slowing down. We were at 16,500 feet of elevation. We finally got a good look at Everest in the distance. It was surreal, I had been training/planning/thinking about this for almost 9 months and it was finally in front of me.

Day 8 the wheels started coming off for me. Our goal was to hike from 16,500 to 18,000 and back down again. It was our “acclimation day”. I got about halfway through the hike and I could feel my heart rate start to climb with every step. Within the hour it felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I just couldn’t take another step. Our guide suggested I rest for 15 minutes or so and we (the entire group) essentially stopped and enjoyed the view while I waited for my heart rate to go down. After 15 minutes I felt a little better and tried to keep going. Within 5 steps, the heart rate started racing again and I knew there was no way I was going to make it. I found a rock, sat down and told the group to go ahead without me. As I started to head back down the hill, I started to think about the next day. It was our final climb before we got to base camp…2500 feet of climbing, 10 hours…if I’m having trouble at 17,500, how am I going to make it to 19,500?

When I got back to the Tea House that we were staying at, I could barely get up the stairs. It felt like I had been doing wind sprints all morning. I went to see a local doctor, whose office is at 17,500 feet above sea level (that’s both crazy and cool). He told me that I needed to spend about 4 days at this altitude to acclimate and I would probably be fine. The problem was my group was leaving the next morning at 8am. He gave me some Viagra to increase the blood flow to my lungs (and warned me about other potential areas of increased blood flow) and wished me luck.

I knew the next morning I had to make a big decision. Take a D.N.F. or try to move forward and risk an episode like the day before or potentially something worse. As much as I hated to do it, there really was no option. By 10am I hopped in a helicopter and by 11:00 am I was back in Kathmandu.

As I look back, it was truly an amazing experience. Life always has its setbacks and as disappointed as I am to take a D.N.F., I can’t wait until my next adventure!