Somewhere on the steep climb from Boulder Creek (north
of Boulder, Utah and west of UT-12), where the group had taken a break, to a utility
gravel road, I felt it for the first time, and then a few more times. The
feeling was not one of pain, sharp or otherwise. Fatigue, sure; but that’s too
broad. From my perspective, the best way to describe the feeling is an
increasing lack of responsiveness of the leg muscles, particularly the quads.
The muscles still responded, but with a lag. And that, over the terrain on
which we’re travelling, meant the risks also increased, for myself and, over time, for the rest of the group.
It was late afternoon on Friday. All through the week, since
our group of ten students and three instructors had set out late afternoon the
previous Sunday, I’ve pace myself to stay under my lactate threshold. On
that climb, something, perhaps lactate, perhaps something else, crossed a
threshold.
It felt all too eerily similar, almost identical, painfully—not
so much physically but mentally--recalling what I’d felt, also toward the end
of the first week of another BOSS (Boulder Outdoor Survival School in Boulder, UT) course I’d taken in 2023,
a 14-Day Field Expedition. On that course, the problem with my leg muscles
occurred on the second day of a three-day group expedition, and I was able to
make it through that phase of the course. This time, the course was a 28-Day Field Expedition, and the problem began on the first day of a
seven-day group expedition. In both cases, the onset of the problem was rather sudden.
My pace slowed quite a bit, compared to that before the
break at Boulder Creek; and I was walking just ahead of the sweep, a fellow
student, and Steve, the head instructor. I knew I needed to decide soon. My
mind was quickly going through all the options and their possible outcomes,
none of which was completely satisfactory. I knew from the 14-Day course that I needed time to
recover--time that I didn’t have, because I was on the course schedule, not
mine.
We were about two miles from the day’s camp site, and the
route there was not particularly difficult. I felt confident that I could
slowly walk there and, perhaps, after a night's rest, even continue with the group for another day or
two. But, beyond that, to complete the entire seven-day expedition, I felt it
was not realistic. I approached Steve, and we discussed my situation. He was supportive
however I decided and provided some additional information.
On that gravel road, knowing what I knew from the 14-Day
course experience and knowing that, from my lifelong running, my sense of the body’s
limits was finely honed, I reluctantly decided, everything considered, to leave
the course barely one week into it.
Prior to the course, I’d written about a revelation I had from the 14-Day course, which was that, at least from my
personal experience, it seems the usage of the leg muscles is very different
between running and walking, and relying on my running would be insufficient
for the 28-Day course. So, in preparation for the latter, I adapted my favorite
marathon training plan, by replacing two of the weekly runs with hikes of
increasing distances and backpack weights, and of varying elevations and
terrain surface types (of trails and cross-country).
In hindsight, this adapted training plan was comically
inadequate. I’ve lots of mixed feelings. Disappointed with my early exit, of course. Bummed
out, for sure. More though, I’m just so mad at myself for underestimating the
demands of the course. It was not as if I didn’t know better. In addition to
the 14-Day course, I’ve completed two other BOSS courses. I knew the
environment; I knew the terrain; I knew the elevation (Boulder, UT is at 6,700
ft). What was I thinking!?
Leaving a course early, in many ways, especially
psychologically, feels similar to a DNF (did not finish) in a marathon. Of the
25 or so marathons I’ve run, I DNF’ed once (Potomac 2014). I remember, after that DNF, I couldn’t stop thinking about
it and how I had to finish the next one
(Harrisburg 2014), because, as Brian Morrison once said, "once you
drop that first time, it gets easier and easier to throw in the towel."
This time, this DNF, it’s the same: from the moment I left
the group, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. A day later, in my Salt Lake City
hotel room, awaiting my flight the next day, I couldn’t sleep. And when I
finally fell sleep, I slept fitfully. I was second-guessing my decision, of
course; though, I felt pretty comfortable that mine was not a case of Tim Noakes’ second- and lower-placed finishers accepting “their respective finishing positions and no longer choose to challenge for a
higher finish." But, this thought kept coming up: has the aging curve
finally caught up with the training curve? I kept waking up to jot down notes,
to google lactate threshold, google dehydration, google rucking, google hiking coach, and a dozen other topics. As
the predawn light filtered into the room, I finally concluded that it’s--still (!)--mostly
a matter of training and dozed off.
So, what now?
First, I need to find out what caused the problem with the
leg muscles and how to prevent or mitigate it. As with marathons,
where the outcome is largely decided in the prior months of training, my early
exit from the 28-Day course was largely decided before I even got to Boulder (i.e.,
how I trained). Once the course began, though, there were other possible contributing factors:
(1) dehydration, especially, with age, the weakening of the thirst sensation;
(2) insufficient sleep, not so much from the nighttime temperature (around
50F), but from the difficulty in finding a comfortable sleeping position; (3) lack
of food during “Impact,” the first phase of the course, where no food was
provided and water was whatever we found and treated along the way; and (4) elevation
which, for the first week, ranged from 6,700 to almost 10,000 ft. As for the
latter, cardiovascularly, I was fine. My breathing felt normal; so, my running
fitness was sufficient. But, what about the lungs to the bloodstream and from the
bloodstream to the tissues? Why, if exceeding the lactate threshold was a problem, did it take so long to recover? Answers to these questions should
also help with the last 10K of marathons.
First night camp site, showing all the gear I was carrying
for the Impact phase of the 28-Day course.
Second, I need to figure out how to train better, with a plan that’s more specific to the course environment and more commensurate
with the course demands and doing it at the elevation where I live (433 ft). I
need to figure out how to recover enough overnight. I need to incorporate
multi-day hikes. I need to figure out how to simulate the course elevation,
terrain, and extended climbs. I need to incorporate more strength training,
both upper body and upper leg and overall. I’m looking for hiking training
plans and also, possibly, a hiking coach. If I’m to take the 28-Day course
again, which I plan to, I want to seriously train, so that the physical part of
hiking with a loaded pack occurs in the background. That way, I could focus on,
e.g., navigation or just enjoying the scenery!
After the 2023 14-Day course, I wrote that “Never again
would I look at a hiker with a backpack and think, meh, that is just walking!” Now,
I’d say, at least for me, that running a marathon is easier than hiking
extended distances with a loaded pack. Usually, on day 4 after a marathon, I’d feel
ready to go out for a test run. This time, as of today, day 6 after I’d left
the course, my legs still don’t feel quite ready to run. Maybe another day or
so.
Blanket pack and versa cloth day carrier, with combined weight
of 30+/- lbs. BOSS’ motto is “Know more, carry less.”
Though my 28-Day course ended prematurely this time, it was
still worth the experience. Every BOSS course I’ve taken has been life-changing;
this one was no exception. The instructors, as always, were superb. Fellow
students, from diverse backgrounds, become friends after the course. The scenery
was incredible. I learned a lot of skills and gained a lot of knowledge. And,
perhaps more importantly, I learned a lot about myself and my relationship to
nature.
Students and instructors gather for a quick morning lesson
before hiking out.
Scenic views abound in the areas that BOSS courses go
through.
Toula, one of the instructors, giving a lesson on friction
fire, using a bow drill.
Meanwhile, my running continues. I now have an unplanned couple extra
weeks to train for the upcoming Steamtown Marathon in October. 😊 And, next April, I’m
planning to run the Coast Guard Marathon. Then, depending on which BOSS 28-Day course in
2026, I’ll start training—seriously--in April or May.
