(Don't hate.)


I got to take part in an intense event this weekend called the Whitney Classic. It was a bike ride that began at 3 pm on Saturday. Riders began at Badwater in Death Valley at -282 ft, climbed two 5000 ft passes, grinding through the night, and ending at Mt. Whitney Portal at 8365 ft. the next morning. There were three long climbs, with a total elevation gain of 15,300 ft. I drove as SAG (Support and Gear) for a new friend, meaning I drove ahead of the biker every few miles, parked on the side of the road in the middle of the desert, got out of the car and ran around a bit and did a couple jumping jacks, then handed off a new water bottle or food or clothing whenever he passed. Then I got in the car and did it again....over and over for 18 hours. There is so much solitude in the desert, a kind of mysterious beauty I haven't found elsewhere. When the moon was rising over some mountains and I was pulled off the road, my ears began to pound, straining to hear something. The silence was so intense it nearly hurt. 

It was pretty meaningful to watch people push themselves beyond their limits physically and mentally. The friend I was helping out would get to the car and just keel over, looking like he was going to vomit, and his morale was completely gone, the allure of the event being gone in the first 40 miles, and the realization of pushing yourself beyond miserable having set in. What encouragement could I give to someone I just met recently? It amazed me that he just kept going--the mental capacity it takes to push yourself beyond your limits is completely unknown to me. Usually when I watch similar things, like mountaineering and climbing videos where people are miserable the whole time, I am completely averted and have zero desire to do the same thing. However, after this ride, I was intrigued as to whether I would be able to handle it, and the knowledge and confidence of self that would result whether or not I finished.