Journey into the Gray

Many of you that enjoy hiking will recognize the location in the image on the right - the trailhead for Grays Peak outside of Breckenridge, CO. Since I developed a passion for skiing as a young 23 year old graduate student, I had always wanted to hike to the top of one of these majestic 14,000 foot peaks. On July 3, during our family vacation, I had my chance. Had I trained? No. Did I have the gear? No. All I was wearing that day was a pair of shorts, tennis shoes, a sleeveless t-shirt and a light jacket. But was I prepared to set all that aside to accomplish a goal that has been over a decade in the making? Absolutely!

For the past 2 years, I have struggled with intense anxiety that has resulted in heart palpitations (specifically premature ventricular contractions) which, in my case, can range from a level of annoyance to being down-right scary. Some people have PVCs and do not realize it, but I am one of the lucky few who are extremely symptomatic and feel every additional, breath catching beat. This gets old after about 1,000 daily episodes (which apparently is a relatively small number in the realm of PVCs). 2016 to early 2018 had been full of counseling sessions, trips to the emergency room, medications and just feeling lousy. To me, this felt like a complete 180 from the young guy who played football and ran track in college and then obtained a PhD in chemistry without ever experiencing an issue. I always thought that stress was my ally, but I never realized what it was actually doing to me inside. I hated the way that this condition (and the accompanying medicine) made me feel, but I started to accept this state as the "new normal" by the spring of 2018. Ten years had made such a big difference in my physical and mental health, and to be honest, it was depressing and frustrating!

On the day that I decided to hike Gray's peak, the weather was absolutely beautiful - ALMOST perfect! I saw several animals on my drive up to the trailhead and during my hike, including some deer, a woodchuck and a moose. Cold mountain streams from the melting snow flowed along the trail which made for a great place to sit and catch my breath from the thin mountain air. Although most who know me know that I am not one to rest and relax, I found no reason to overextend myself on this part of the hike. But my mindset changed as I rounded the last bend and saw the monumental task ahead of me - the big push to ascend Grays Peak.

Sitting in the doctor's office reviewing my most recent tests, I became frustrated with the continued feedback that all of my test results look normal (other than occasional high blood pressure also likely related to stress). How could my test results be normal, when I don't feel normal. I am only 35; I should be in my prime! But I felt the gravity of my fragile body weighing heavier on me each day. I knew that unshackling myself from these feelings wouldn't be easy, but the process has proven to be invaluable.

I was absolutely stoked when i caught the first glimpse of the full path to the top of Gray's peak. Conveniently for an untrained hiker in tennis shoes, there didn't appear to be any obstacles that would pose a physical barrier between myself and the goal. The footpath was free of snow and I was feeling no symptoms of altitude sickness. I remember taking the picture on the right, thinking to myself that I was excited to reach the top of the peak so I could take a picture of the valley in which I was standing just a few hours before. What I failed to realize is how the clouds rolling over the mountains would alter my plans. Two pieces of advice from a novice hiker - (1) If you are going to try something new, don't do it alone and (2) take note if you are on a typically heavy populated trail and no one is following behind you - it might be for a reason. Luckily for myself, point 2 encouraged me to talk to a few local hikers that I passed on their descent down from the top of the mountain. As the 23 year old graduate who loved skiing, sports and had a edge for adventure, my determination would have told me to disregard all warnings and continue forward to accomplish my goal. But now as a 35 year old with two kids (a third on the way), a wonderful career and friends that I love hanging out with, talks of violent storms and high winds were enough to persuade me to change my path. I quickly realized that instead of accomplishing a decade long goal, I had just enjoyed a fantastic hike alone in the Colorado Rockies. Satisfied, I unwrapped my celebratory cliff bar, looked at Gray's Peak and turned around to start my journey back to the car.

For much of my adult life, I have embraced constructive discontent as a sort-of life motto. From my perspective, constructive discontent implies a sense of dissatisfaction in the status quo. All activities should be progressing towards something greater and more meaningful, otherwise there is no reason to do them. Ultimately, I am never satisfied. I love self-reflection and self-improvement and I have a insatiable hunger to know and understand more about the world and the perspectives of the people around me. It is an inherent part of my personality. (My nickname in high school was Go Hard, so, to me, adopting this life perspective seemed inevitable.) But instead of just imposing this perspective on myself, I also impose this view on those around me. And that is when I find that anxiety impacts me the most. In the Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson "elequently" argues that you only have so many f*cks to give, so only give f*cks to those things that are truly f*ck worthy. Or another one that I like that illustrates the same point is "it wasn't the road less traveled, but the f*cks not given that made all the difference". I still want to climb a fourteener (and hopefully someday I will have the opportunity again), but I am honestly happy that I didn't reach the top on July 3, 2018. Instead, I made a purposeful choice to turn around and enjoy some quality family time at the Denver Aquarium, which became one of the highlights of the trip.

This takes me to the morning of August 8, 2018. When I arrived at work, I took note of how incredibly happy I was that morning. I decided to spend the first 20 minutes at work reflecting on the last 12 hours to try and understand why I was feeling so great. Let me take you through the events:

5 pm - finish technical call with strategic partner discussing development of a new product

5:30 pm - receive final grade from my Operational Management MBA course - "A.. Boo Ya!"

6:30 pm - arrive home from work, eat, and picked up around the house before kids got home from gymnastics

7:00 pm - hang out with kids and discuss the plans for our new family addition (coming in October), new deck (coming in september) and business plans for Untold Content with my wonderful partner Katie. 

7:30 pm - take a walk with the kids to grandma's house and help install her new robotic vacuum to help her keep the house clean while she is recovering from surgery.

8:00-9:30 pm - bedtime activities for the kids and finish cleaning the house

10:00 pm - bedtime

5:00 am - wake up

6:00 am - Crossfit! 

7:30 am - back to work

I'll admit that there is nothing overly exciting on this list, but every single activity is incredibly purposeful and directed towards improving things that I am passionate about in my life and that are within my sphere of influence. As Jeff Haden discusses in his book, The Motivation Myth, the more that I focus my energy on things that actually fulfill me, the more success I will find which will ultimately lead to more motivation... it's a virtuous cycle. I could have been bullheaded that day on Grays Peak trail and pushed my limits in spite of the weather, but what was there to gain? I still deal with anxiety and heart palpitations, and I probably always will. But, as I journey into the Gray, I have a much better perspective of what is truly important and what things I should actually give a f*ck about.

Be yourself, everyone else is already taken. ~Oscar Wilde