The Lessons of 2023: On Goals, Bucketlist Lines, Failures and Overuse Injuries

I can’t add a caption to the photo above, but there’s a reason it’s the cover shot - this day out is the epitome of what I’m trying to find in the mountains. My dear friends Nomi and Zac climbed an obscure peak with me in the middle of nowhere Montana. There’s no trail, so we thrashed our way through miles of dense brush to reach a beautiful lake, then fought our way past cliffbands to reach huge slabs of rock that brought us to the summit. We reached the summit only a few hours before sunset, then finagled our way out in the dark, ultimately getting stuck in a swamp at 10pm, where I laughed so hard I cried. We got back to the car after 17.5 hrs, 20 miles, and 6,500’ of vert. This is what I’m looking for in the mountains - endless conversation, laughter, and remote adventure.

Backstory

Back in 2020, I set myself a goal of climbing 1,000’ a day - 365,000’ for the year - by any human-powered means. You can read about that year here. While it got a bit close at the end, I pulled it off, ultimately climbing up 380,000’. Because it had been fun and inspiring, I set the same goal for 2021.

2021 - I was on pace until November 7th, when I ran into the brick wall of an overuse injury combined my first semester of grad school. I basically did nothing after November 7th and finished the year with 332k’.

2022 - When 2022 rolled around, I set the same goal again. I wanted to balance my work/outside life a bit better and hoped the goal would help. But I ended up getting sick three different times - bronchitis and COVID twice - each for a month, all of which affected my lungs pretty badly. I managed to get 318k’ but it was pretty scrappy.

After failing twice, I thought about writing a blog post on failing at big goals but didn’t get past the first draft. An excerpt:

What is the point of making goals if you keep missing them?

I believe that there may be people out there who don’t need the motivation of goals, who can simply live in accordance with how they want to without setting long-term commitments to themselves about how they want to be in the future. I don’t work like that. I need clear-cut goals to help steer me toward who I want to be. And I also need practice at failing. So setting goals, driving earnestly toward them, and then failing, it’s all good. At the end of the day, I just want to have tried to change. If that makes me a loser, so it goes, I’m happy like this.

That brings us to 2023. Obviously, I set the same goal again, even though I knew I’d be wrapped up in my last semester of grad school and had no idea what came next. Somehow, it all worked out.

2023 Year End Totals

374k’ climbed | 1,315 miles | 490 hrs exercising

Elevate for Strava - amazing app. If you look closely you can see that I tend to plateau in September or October due to overuse injuries I’ve racked up through the summer. At least I’m consistent?

But the numbers don’t tell anywhere near the whole story. This was a year of wildly surprising successes mixed up with overuse injuries from dreaming and pushing too hard. And I’m still trying to understand exactly what I did wrong and how I could have done better.

Some caveats

I’m not holding my stats up for any reason other than to share something that I’ve put an absurd amount of time and energy into, and I’m definitely not suggesting my numbers make me better or worse than anyone else. Many people are much stronger than me, and I’m constantly inspired by them! I also realize this is all excruciatingly navel-gazey, but what else are year-end reflections for?

While I’m caveating: I know I’m enormously privileged to experience such a generally healthy body, and I’m sorry that I did not recognize this privilege earlier. Before 2022, I had never been sick for a month before in my life. In 2022, I was sick for three months and became friends with two people who have experienced chronic illness for most of their lives. I wish I’d been able to be more compassionate to those experiencing chronic illness without my own illnesses, but I wasn’t. Even now, I cannot fathom my friends’ experiences, in large part because my life has been built on how my body works. But I can try to treat my body with more grace and care and to try and use some of the methods that they have been kind enough to share with me. To honor them.

End of Winter 2023 into Spring

I was trying to wrap up my master’s work while also skiing my face off. I toured 50 days in the winter of 2022/23, and tagged some lines I’d been dreaming of for years - Red Mountain (WA) and Sky Pilot (MT).

Red Mountain!

Sky Pilot!

Rainier!

Then I graduated and celebrated by skiing Rainier in a day via the Fuhrer Finger with Solomon. This was a big deal for me, I’d never even allowed myself to dream about this line because I thought it was too gnarly for my skillset. But after 40+ days on skis that season, it went smoothly!

And then a few days later, I successfully skied the Isolation Traverse with Robby after two previous attempts the two previous years. And it was as incredible as I’d imagined.

Isolation Traverse!

Summer

I kicked off the summer by reporting on the Held v Montana trial for three weeks. It was an incredible opportunity, but I spent three-plus weeks sitting and writing. Then, suddenly, a guide got sick and I got flown up to the Gates of the Arctic National Park to guide for 11 days. I’d always dreamed of going to Alaska, and this trip exceeded all my wildest dreams.

All the black dots are mosquitoes attacking

I got back and was feeling strong. And I think this is where I started to make some mistakes. I had barely been running all year, but when Keith invited me to run the Teton Crest Trail, I jumped at the chance. And while it was a spectacular and fun day, my knees blew up after mile 30.

The duality of man: mile 30 - before my knees blew up. This is the best day ever.

The duality of man: mile 40 - I want to go home but my knees won’t bend anymore.

Jonathan getting sendy on the Glacier Project and my knee destruction happening out of frame.

More glacier project, more knee destruction.

I took two weeks rest and then started visiting glaciers in Glacier National Park for my glacier project. And while I enjoyed a couple gorgeous trips, two with Jonathan and one with Mica, my knees blew up again. I limped my way out of the park and rested for another two weeks, praying my knees wouldn’t ruin my September guiding. Thanks to everyone who supported me through this time, I was rattled and upset.

Fall

Somehow, I managed to do 17 days of offtrail guiding back-to-back (with something like 45k’ vert) in the Olympic National Park without my knees blowing up, though they felt tweaky almost every day.

Guiding in the Olympics!

Oh, the Cascades

Nothing wrong with pow and wet feet in early October

After wrapping up the guiding, I went on a wild solo offtrail trail-running journey into the Cascades, summiting and circumnavigating Buck Mountain. I did 31 miles and almost 11k’ gain. And I felt great (minus the last few miles which were a 10pm death slog). I figured I was in the clear!

I headed back to Montana and had two more big romps - one in the Mission Range with Zac and Nomi and one more glacier visit with Barron - before my left knee finally told me I had done too much. I spent a month resting and having trouble walking.

Scrambly nonsense on a perfect fall day out

Alpine rambling with glaciers!

Winter?

As we all know, there’s so little snow that it doesn’t really feel like winter has started. I’ve spent the winter resting for the most part. When I thought my knee was finally better, I went on a few ill-advised runs at home in Missoula - one of which got me over 365,000’ for the year! - before my back blew up and forced me into another rest period.

In the last two weeks, I finally got out ski touring a few times in Washington with my brother Owen and Marc, but I mainly tried to rest my poor back and knees. But I did manage to finish the year with a small triumph: Robby and I skied the Nisqually Chute on Rainier a few days ago, a line I’d always looked up at and never attempted.

Lessons

Now that 2023 is done, I’m trying to understand what I need to improve at. On the one hand, everything I pulled off this year, from finishing grad school, publishing some major pieces, and starting a new job, all the way to skiing Rainier and the Isolation Traverse, is thanks to the combination of my capacity to dream combined with my extreme stubbornness. And yet, these big dreams coupled with stubbornness are also responsible for all my injuries this year. I spent over two months trying to recover from overuse injuries this year. And that has felt like shit. Even as I write this, I’ve got a sore back and a tweaky knee.

What do I need to learn? Probably something about balance and about building strength preemptively. And that skiing/hiking fitness does not mean anything when it comes to running fitness (pretty sure my mixup here led to this whole mess).

But I’m also going to take it easy on myself. I saw a wonderful physical therapist when my knees were blowing up and he told me:

“Look, you’re using your body in the way it was meant to be used. Just slow it down a bit, stretch, and build up a bit more strength. But don’t be mean to yourself about this, your body can hear you. Tell it you’re going to try taking better care of it in the future. That’s it.”

That’s what I’m going to try to do. Right after I do some more resting.

And if you’re struggling with injuries or chronic illness, please be easy with yourself and ask your friends for help. They’ll step up. You’re not defined by your absurd activities, you’re defined by the way you show up for your community. And part of that means asking for help when you need it.

Part of my glacier project. A glacier that could use some more community.

Outdoor Goals for Next Year

1) I want to keep integrating my creative life with my community-building life with my outdoor life. I feel like I’ve been heading that way for a while, but I want to keep going. Subgoals:

• I want to keep building my outdoor community with folks who are also balancing these three threads.

• I want to keep mentoring folks who are trying to get into the sports I know how to do, both formally, as a guide, and informally.

• I want to keep creating work about others who are loving and stewarding the environment even as that becomes increasingly upsetting to do.

2) I’ve already got a long list of ski-touring/trailrunning/packrafting linkups in the works for this year, but I’m not going to write those down, because that’s not the real goal. I want to keep getting into the deep backcountry with partners who are joyful and supportive and with a body that is properly prepared for the situation I’m in. The specific objectives will figure themselves out.

3) And as always, I want to do 365,000’ of vert again. Or maybe 421,000’, if I can pull that off, I’ll have averaged 1k’ vert/day for five years :) which is a stupid enough goal to motivate me!

Gratitude

I spent a lot less time this year on solo trips thanks to my lovely and ever-growing network of backcountry partners! Thank you to everyone who spent time with me in the backcountry! I specifically want to thank Marc, Solomon, Robby, Barron, Zac, Nomi, Jonathan, Keith, Sam, Mica, Greg, my brother Owen, and my mother Deborah for all the inspiration, support, and companionship they’ve given me.

Two great partners on a beautiful day out in WA

I want to thank the landscapes where I spent time this year. I explored Western Montana (mainly the Bitterroot range, the Missoula area, and Glacier National Park), the Cascades (WA), the Olympic Range (WA), the Chiricahua Range (AZ), and the Brooks Range (AK). I can’t express how thankful I am to be able to spend so much time in these landscapes, or how much they’ve taught me. But I hope my writing and photography are a start!

I am also increasingly reckoning with the fact that these landscapes have complex histories of ownership, control, and stewardship. I am deeply grateful for all those who have helped these areas become what they are and am committed to helping build capacity toward equitable and collaborative relationships with the land through my journalism, my guiding, and my work at the University of Montana’s Center for Natural Resources and Environmental Policy.

Thanks for reading!