2. 12. 14 Stadium training by Max

Cambridge saw a brutal winter this year. We tried to use the snow and ice as part of our training. Climbing snow mounds and running through the snow were fun ways to keep the momentum of the JMT excitement flowing. But, dude, it was cold. All the time kind of cold. I figured walking out in the cold had to be strengthening something, but it was brutal. Here is Max's blog about climbing the steps of Harvard's Stadium. Max took the steps running...all of them. In his element, Max's gold shines and his heart is happy. It's the best.

We started climbing the first steps to get to the bags. 

<< [OO] << REWIND

Me, Mom and Nate (my bro) were walking to the stadium in Harvard. We were training our legs to climb a mountain.

>> [OO] >> FAST FORWARD

We started climbing the first steps to get to the bags. Oh...

...  [OO] ... PAUSE

Wait I forgot to tell you what the bags mean. The bags, our bags, were set ahead; sort of like flags, so we had a goal to climb to.

>> [OO] >> FAST FORWARD

We started to climb the first steps to the bags. I ran head. When I got to the top of each section, I cheered on Mom and Nate. When I got to the top, Mom and Nate caught up a few minutes later. And when we were all at the top, we climbed the secret stairs to the roof, and took pictures. It was about five o'clock. We climbed down the icy, big steps, and went out for dinner. The End.

The Harvard Stadium is in lower Allston and right next to the Harvard track. The boys and I have been going to the track since they were very small, but we never tried the stadium steps together. There are 37 sections in the stone stadium, and 31 seats in each section. It was the first mild day in a good while, (high 30's, over freezing) and I thought we might give it a try. The ice was concerning, but I walked with Nate, and no one skidded out and down the steps. Max, as I mentioned ran ahead and cheered us on.  We climbed all of the steps before it got dark, and felt worn and good inside.

2. 4. 14 Foot down

It has been my routine to run nearly every day, and work out in the evenings. The last six months or so, I have been plagued with a nagging pain in my foot; presumably this common runners over-use injury, plantar fasciitis. I had taken random breaks here and there, but mostly ran through the hurt, which usually relieved any discomfort felt.

After a week long break from running, I went out on a super cold day, and I guess hit my limit. I felt an unforgiving shock stab through my heel and my knee buckled. It's impossible to really gauge, but I think I have a reasonably high tolerance for pain, and certainly do not give into it easily. This here was non-negotiable. After three days it seemed to only worsen, and I really couldn't put weight on my foot, so I needed to see the doctor.

The result? I'm not running, I immediately gained weight and frantically tried to circumvent the problem at hand. I put every other exercise I could in place, and tried my best to make up for the loss in running. The boys have been sympathetic, and I have been trying to be patient and not over do anything, mainly because of this hike. rrrrrrrrrrrgh.

I am sure it will be better, come July, but for now, it sort of blows.

1. 30. 14 The Boys

On Jan 4, 2014,  I introduced my idea to the boys. Totally predicting that they would lend half an ear, and wouldn't bat an eye. I was quite sure that everything in their bodies and faces would tell me definitively:

1. that they weren't into it, and

2. that they weren't able to do this,. This hike would just be something I would have to do later on, on my own.

Gut feelings aside, and with nothing to lose, I pitched the plan to the little men.

Of course (because here we are) the boys did not balk. There was no indifference, cowering, eye-rolling to be seen. They just looked open. And clear. They listened. Closely. I don't think I had caught their attention quite like this before, and I swear, the room felt suddenly important. As we talked about the trail, I realized that they were in need of this trip, as much as I. This shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was, and it made me sad, but determined to see this through. And every second thereon, proved unequivocally to me that this trip IS about them. I, am about them. No matter how many times I am reminded, this fact keeps catching up to me, when I least expect it. And so we began discussing the steps to make the John Muir Trail happen.

The set goal for the hike and the structure it provided, began a period of great new attitude and overall focus in the house. The first week in January, we began training. We watched tutorials on how to read a compass and map, how to make a compass, how to follow the sun, how to camp in the rain, how to make a fire in the rain, what to carry, how to pack it, how to store food in bear country, and assorted short films about Yosemite and the Sierras. We kept a running list at the breakfast table of things we need and things to learn. We visited EMS so I could introduce them to the outdoor fanatic's world, and there we would buy one thing, and to take a look at the gear. The (awesome awesome) EMS associates gave the boys lessons on living outdoors, what they might need and how to use certain pieces of equipment. The boys were fitted for backpacks and told all about the specs, safeties and how to use them effectively. We also taste tested some freeze-dried meals, and attempted some jerky. I believe Nate is still chewing his beef jerky today. Lastly, we began physically training: a coordination yoga or dance or jump-rope routine to keep them thinking and balancing, once a week. We take one long walk or hike each week; at least 6 mi if flat, 3mi if wooded. Using the apartment building we run (or walk) the stairs or snow hills once a week. As the months continue, I hope the hikes will become more mountain oriented, weather permitting. For now, we are just focusing on endurance, equilibrium and confidence. I do not plan on over-hiking them, nor will I over-camp them, but I need to get their feet wet and strong. The JMT will still be completely huge and exciting, and the preparation can only help them to enjoy it. So far they love it. I think they like the family time, the team aspect, the togetherness and the sense of pride and accomplishment.

January 29th I reserved permits for the three of us, after a nerve-wracking 2 hr. wait on hold, for a coveted starting spot at Happy Isles in Yosemite. Max refers to the trail as The Johnny Muir Trail, which I find crazy endearing, and have not ever corrected him.

In line for a parking permit in Cambridge, while on hold with the National Parks Department for my Wilderness Permit

12. 27. 13: The Proposition (still just in my head)

Plan:  Fly out July 16 to SFO. Meet Maria (my sweet friend from another life, and fellow mother, living in San Francisco). Drive up to Yosemite July 17. Pick up permits and hike the JMT.

The full hike is 220 miles. The first half has a campsite or opportunities to refuel about every 4-5 days' walking distance. The second half does not. I have asked at least 4 people/ couples to consider meeting us along the second half of the trail for food drops and maybe even clothing to switch out. The food is a big deal; the sustenance, the weight. The clothes would be a luxury. Most appealing about this idea is the support; the guys will have people cheering them on along the way, and friends will serve as check points. If we meet up, our friends will become a part of the boys' memory of this trip. It's just an idea, but would be lovely.

I imagine (and am almost 100% willing to bet) that after 3 days of hiking, the hike will become our new reality. My guys assimilate quickly, and I am excited to watch this happen. Not to say that complaining, crying, bickering and headaches won't follow us into reality. That would be a dream. Nonetheless, I am pretty sure that our daily routine will just become what we do, how we live, who we are. This is where it will be easiest to draw the direct comparison to our life in Cambridge: life is all makeshift, all the time, no matter where we live. Kindness, thoughtfulness and enthusiasm, still remain and drive us to learn, to watch, to emulate, to lead. I am planning to end in the Sequoias, at the foot of Mt. Whitney (shaving 20 - 25 mi off), but if we are all game to climb the mountain, we will certainly try. I thought after so many weeks of amazing sights, the giant trees would be enough to make them cry, and be a great ending. There we will be met by either dear smiles, or a hostel bed and rented car. After a sleep, I will drive our brave bodies to the beach.

I am allowing 6 weeks, but expect it will take 5 (an average hiker, an adult hiker will finish in 3.5 - 4 weeks). The last week is extra time, and can allow us a leisurely walk, or can be spent at the end, floating at the beach.