If you’ve been following me for a while, you know it’s been a hard year. Add ongoing health problems, and it’s been a rough five years. Add depression to the mix, and… well, you get the picture.
Last weekend, I spent four days climbing with coaches, friends, and kids of Team Ascension at Hatcher Pass in Palmer, Alaska. It was our second outdoor climbing trip this season, and really only my third multi-day climbing trip outdoors in 7 years—a concept that seems unbelievable to me, given how much climbing has been part of my life for the last 32 years.
It’s hard not to reflect on how far I’d drifted from something I love so much. But this year, I’ve been doing the right things—getting my ass back in shape—and it showed on this trip. I feel good again. It feels good to move, and climbing feels natural.
Sometime around February, I started funneling depression into physical activity. Running has always been meditative for me, so it was a natural place to start. Most evenings, I was at the gym, mainly on the treadmill. Then one day, I picked up some weights. By March, the weight loss was noticeable, and climbing started to feel a little easier again.
That kicked off a cascade. As climbing got easier, I climbed more, almost every day through the spring. A sprained ankle took running off the table for a while, but I could still walk. So I walked. A lot. My watch adjusts its step goal automatically based on activity: more steps, higher goal; fewer steps, lower goal. I pushed mine up past 30,000 steps a day. Eventually, I was ready to run again.
Nutrition became more of a focus. Everything started to feel better. Recovery got faster. I’d go to bed sore, thinking, “I’m going to hurt so bad tomorrow,” and wake up feeling completely recovered, ready to go again.
As soon as the snow melted, I shifted my runs outside. My new dry cabin is right by the Equinox Marathon Trail, so an 11-mile loop with about 7 miles of trail became a regular route, first weekly, then twice a week. I added sections of Ester Dome and started pushing longer distances: half-marathons once a week, eventually building up to 15- or 16-mile runs. The weight continued to drop, and running started to feel easier. More natural, just like climbing had.
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At some point, I got it in my head to chase a 10K PR at the Midnight Sun Run. I started training for speed: hill work for 5K and 10K distances, squats and deadlifts, pushing hard. I let the goal stress me out a little, intentionally. That kind of pressure works for me in competition. And it paid off. My previous 10K PR was 52:32 back in 2018 (the last time I was seriously training for both climbing and running). This year, I ran it in 47:22.
A week later, I broke my half-marathon PR with a 1:43:27. Then, just last week, I set a new 5K PR at 21:44. I’m hoping none of these records last through the end of the year.
Before and after photos of me and the Team at the Midnight Sun Run:
All the while, climbing remained constant. On Tuesdays, setting day at the gym, I often climbed for eight hours or more: three to four hours of forerunning, then working on my own projects, and ending the day climbing with the Community Crush crew.
In the midst of all this, late April, I think, I had my six-month physical. Until recently, I’d needed checkups every three months to monitor hypertension and a host of blood pressure–related issues. This time, my lab work came back perfect. Everything was in range. Even my blood pressure was normal, maybe even a little low. Clearly, something I’m doing is working.
I think a huge part of the fast improvement has been due to weight and resistance training. It’s an element that I’ve always been reluctant to embrace, preferring body weight and control exercises.
I had no agenda for the Hatcher trip beyond getting on as much rock as possible. After months of training, rebuilding strength, and feeling more like myself again, I was just excited to climb—outside, with friends, in one of the most beautiful places in Alaska.
I feel a little bad that I didn’t spend time on landscape photography in this incredible place, but it was nice to just focus on the climbing and the people. That’s actually a big adjustment for me—most of my outdoor time is spent completely alone. I’m not great at being social. Actually, I’m terrible at it. Most of my friends eventually give up on me when I continually turn down invitations due to extreme social anxiety. But with this group, I know everyone well, and that makes all the difference.
I did take a lot of climbing photos, though more often than not, one of the kids had my camera. They took a ton of shots. Honestly, some of them were really great. By the end of the trip, I had over a thousand photos to sift through.
It goes without saying, but I’m incredibly proud of all my team kids. Most of them aren’t used to climbing on sharp, unforgiving granite, but they’ve been adapting fast.
I’ve shared more about the trip from a coaching perspective over on the gym’s website: Team Ascension Bouldering in Hatcher Pass.
I didn’t go into this trip with the best skin. I’ve been climbing so much this summer that splits have become a regular problem. I let everything heal before we left, but the granite made quick work of reopening them. All of them. Working Dancing Queen on our first night tore a fresh gash in my index finger that stayed taped for the rest of the trip.
Physically, I feel as fit as I’ve ever been, though I still have strength to rebuild and weight to lose before I’m back to where I was in my prime. But I’m more determined than ever to get there, to re-establish some old goals and start ticking off climbs and grades that once felt important to me.
Despite not being where I once was physically, and even having lost some technique, I think I’m actually a better climber now. Or maybe just a smarter one. I’m more aware of my limitations, more patient, and I understand that a lot of what’s holding me back is just time and strength, not mindset or ability. I’m climbing differently than I did in my twenties, but with far more intention.
Of course, there are still internal battles. Some days it’s hard to even get up. I haven’t been sleeping well in months. A couple of times on the trip, I had to just walk away from the group—not because of anything they did, but because the social anxiety hit hard, and I didn’t have the tools to push through it in the moment. It’s frustrating because I love this group and everyone in it.
I can be laughing, outgoing, present—and still fall into that familiar, heavy place. That “despair” state that feels completely illogical, and yet still completely real. Sometimes there’s no reason for it. Sometimes there is. That’s what makes it worse.
Fuck depression.
Despite it all, I’m proud of myself. I’ve stuck to this routine for months now, and I’m showing no signs of slowing down. Sure, I’d love a decent night’s sleep, but even without it, I’m still functioning. I’m still showing up. I’ve been able to channel whatever this is into something that’s genuinely good for me. And through it all, I’m paying close attention, tracking how I’m doing physically and mentally, seeing what’s working and what isn’t, and adjusting the plan day by day.
My next step is something my ADHD-rattled mind has always struggled to implement: journaling. But I’m going to try. I want to take that awareness I’ve been building—physical, emotional, mental—and make it more concrete. More scientific. Not just relying on memory or anecdotes to track what’s working, but writing it down. Seeing the patterns. Adjusting with better data. Maybe I can finally put those eight years studying physics to good use.
To some extent, we’ve already been doing this with the Team, tracking key physical metrics, doing one-on-one interviews after comps or at the end of the season to identify areas for improvement. It’s something we probably need to lean into more. I’ve found the discipline to train consistently. Now the question is: can I find that same discipline to collect data and write, both for myself and for the kids? I’m going to find out.
Speaking of my ADHD-rattled mind… what is this blog post about again? I thought it was supposed to be about the Hatcher trip. But hey—no matter.
Climbing is fun!
