Mindless Moments – December 10, 2008
Wed, 10 Dec 2008 20:27:45 -0800
Do as we say? Whatever. That’s why we’re so darn good at handing out advice – we make sure we live the mistakes so that you don’t have to. No, there’s nothing quite like being immersed up to your cranial follicles in a good mistake to drive the lesson home and make it part of the fiber of your being.
Ok, yeah, Paula’s right. On our recent trip up to Utah, we made every stupid mistake an athlete (and I use that term very loosely) can make but, hey, we were excited. It was beautiful and there was snow and we used to do this for a living…like 20-years and 20-lbs ago. I’ll use the excuse that I was just following my dog’s lead. Gidget (The Wonder Dog) didn’t seem too worried about going easy or pacing herself so I was just keeping up with her. She didn’t seem any worse for the extra exuberance. What a mistake.
Sleeping at 8000 feet is a workout. You heard right. You can lie there and get in shape. Ok, not really but it sure felt like that. Realizing that I was working harder just sitting around – let alone sleeping – meant that I was burning more calories. I relayed this physiological fact to the crew but everyone just gave me that look. They knew I was just giving myself an excuse to eat more – like I need an excuse. Well, after 5-days on the hill, I can tell you that I am 3lbs lighter than when I started…and I didn’t skimp on dessert!
Move over Jenny Craig, there’s a new sheriff in town and his name’s Paul “Chomolungma”* Huddle. I’m going to build the ultimate fat camp – at 8 to 10,000 feet. Don’t laugh. Have you ever seen a fat sherpa? It’s going to be a blockbuster. You can stick with a decent amount of daily calories but you can’t go below the camp’s altitude for the duration of your stay. You can exercise for altitude credits. For every half hour of walking you do, you get to sleep at 500-feet lower altitude (hyperbaric chambers). No walking, you sleep right there at 8 to 10,000…and watch yourself disappear with every hypoxic breath.
Ok, maybe I won’t start this next year but if this coaching thing ever dries up, I’ve got a backup plan to rid mankind of the spare tire.
Speaking of tires and, in particular, changing them, what’s all the crying about? I’ll wait to get into that subject in the next installment.
*Tibetan word for Mt. Everest