Hello, hello, and welcome to today's podcast. Today we're going to be talking about our most recent adventure — the 29029 limited edition Aspen Challenge.
What Is 29029?
If you're not familiar with 29029, we get a lot of questions — first, what is it, and second, why would you do that? It's hard to explain, but essentially it's a climbing event, usually set on a mountain. The goal is to climb 29,029 feet — the height of Everest — and you have 36 hours to do it. It starts at 6:00 in the morning, and you can climb all day, all night, and all the next day.
We use hiking poles (you don't have to), and you ascend up a ski slope or the trails that go up ski mountains. Then you take the gondola down — so you're only hiking up, only elevation gain. The gondola down is about a 15-minute ride, so you have time to get some food and drink, sit down, and try to recover for the next ascent. Each ascent takes anywhere from two to three and a half hours, depending on the mountain, since they hold events all over. To reach 29,029 feet at Aspen was nine ascents of a little over 3,000 feet each. Snow Basin had a different number — I think 13 — and some events require even more.
The great thing about 29029 is that it's not a race — it's only a race against yourself and what you decide you want from it. There's lots of opportunity to feel accomplished no matter how many ascents you get done. They've taken the highest peak on all seven continents and put them on the back of your bib, and as you reach each height, they check that mountain off — the highest being Mount Everest, of course, which is where the "29029" comes from. So they let you climb to whatever your endurance and tolerance allow in that 36 hours. It's usually a pretty successful endeavor — about 75 to 80% of people made it at the last event.
We'd challenge people to consider what they want as a goal — do you want to climb all the way to Everest, or just the height of some of the other mountains? It's very inclusive, and it's a great atmosphere around like-minded people who like to do crazy things that others might question.
An Alumni Event With a Twist
This most recent event was the Aspen alumni event — everyone there had climbed at least one other 29029 event before, which is why it was a limited edition. But they threw in a twist with the altitude, which took its toll (more on that later).
We've done this event two other times — once at Snow Basin and once at Whistler — and made 29029 both times. Aspen sounded beautiful when we signed up, and it absolutely delivered when we got there.
What's Your Why?
They ask everybody: what's your why? Why do you want to do this under these circumstances? It's difficult, and it changes a lot for me. My original why — and it continues — is that it's something different that challenges you from both an endurance and a mental standpoint. I've run a lot of races, and I'd rather run a marathon than do 29029. It's a lot more intense, only because it's so long — 36 continuous hours that really test your mental fortitude to persevere through that much strenuous activity.
Like any endurance event, I always appreciate my body so much more when I complete it — whether it's a half marathon or 29029. At the end, I really love my body for all that it does for me. What your body can do and what your mind wants it to do are sometimes two different things, but if you have the mindset, your mind will usually win over — the body keeps going until it runs out of fuel and fluids, or altitude affects it. Everybody's why is different, but you're always thanking your body for getting you up that mountain.
Why Do It Again?
Another question is why do it again? After the first time, they listed Whistler as a next location we hadn't been to — how beautiful could that be? Then along comes something else, and nothing is more enticing than a limited edition in Aspen. It's also different every time. They mix it up, and it's always put on so nicely — a well-attended, well-supported event.
Incredibly Well Supported
This is almost a whole next level — the aid stations, the fuel, the electrolyte drinks. They have you so set up. It's the most comfortable uncomfortable you'll ever be. If you start having problems, there are people all along every aid station, including physical therapists working on you at the bottom of the hill.
They pick great places to go, and there are different ways to stay — we've tent-camped (in the rain) and stayed in really nice hotels, like in Whistler and Aspen. They also have coaches available leading up to and at the event — probably a dozen coaches were out on the mountain climbing with us the entire time, encouraging you and carrying on conversation. You meet people from all over the world. And the volunteers working the aid stations were often alumni veterans who'd done it before and knew how hard it was — they did a fabulous job, and it makes you want to go back and deliver that same assistance to fellow climbers. The whole vibe is really something special.
You get to figure out what's inside you — to reach down and see what it feels like. There's nothing like being uncomfortable for 36 straight hours (with breaks) and resetting your mind: "Okay, there's one down. Turn right, let's go back up." You can't go fast, but you can keep putting one foot in front of the other until you get it done.
Feeling Stronger — and the Weather
It was interesting this year because I actually felt both physically and mentally stronger than at either of the other two races. I pride myself on being in shape, and this still challenges me — it's a mental challenge as much as a physical one. Physically, I could tell I was stronger because there were several ascents where I only stopped at the aid stations, whereas previous events took a lot of resting in between.
The other thing on these climbs is weather — you're out in the elements. You could have rain, snow, sleet, cold, or heat, and maybe all of those over 36 hours. Aspen truly was every season. In Whistler, it rained while we were climbing, and I remember just being really mad, mentally in a bad space. This time was totally different — I was prepared with the right clothing and rain gear, so I just rolled with it much better.
Recovery and the Altitude
Preparing for it takes a certain level of cardiovascular fitness, strength, endurance, and recovery. The better and faster you recover, the better you perform. There were a lot of recovery options during the event — a nice tent with compression boots, massage therapists, and PT, all the help you could need. Oddly enough, that's probably one of the things that held us up.
Spoiler alert: in Aspen, we did not make the 29,029-foot goal. We made 22,800 feet — seven out of the nine ascents — which checked off all the peaks except Everest. It's interesting: this was the one I felt strongest at, but we didn't reach the goal. We thought and talked a lot about how you didn't finish, but you still did finish.
Let me explain. We started climbing at 6:00 a.m. Friday, and the weather that day was amazing — sunny, a little breeze, in the 70s, an ideal day to climb. We were going along well, but that evening, somewhere around the fourth or fifth ascent, the altitude started getting to me. We slowed down but were still keeping a decent pace. On the fifth ascent, around 9:30 or 10:00 at night, I struggled the entire time to get my wind and was nauseated for a couple of hours. At the aid station, the medic checked our pulse ox — mine was in the low 80s on room air, and yours was in the 90s. So, a little altitude sickness: fluid starts to accumulate in the lungs and the alveoli don't perfuse oxygen as well into the bloodstream, which is why I was so nauseated and short of breath. Even with oxygen, I couldn't get my sats into the 90s, so we decided we'd have to stop.
We went back to the hotel and slept. The next day I wanted to finish that fifth ascent, and we got up there feeling pretty good, so we kept going and hiked the entire next day. We both felt better that day — my heart rate was in the 80s versus 120s to 140s the day before. Could we have finished? Yes, I know we could have if we hadn't had to take the break. But what we proved to ourselves is that we could recover, get back out there, and keep going. We didn't quit — we hiked until the end. Even though we didn't finish, we still hiked to the end, and I was proud that we got back up there and did it again.
Lessons Learned
Looking back, we typically just get in and get out on these events. We got up at 4:00 a.m. Thursday to catch our flight, drove from Denver to Aspen, stayed up late packing our gear bag, and were up again at 4:00 to start climbing at 6:00. We could have helped ourselves by being more rested, arriving a day or two earlier to acclimate, and getting better sleep. It takes about a week to fully acclimate to elevation, but even one good night's sleep would have helped. And how often do we talk to patients about sleep and nutrition? Sometimes you just need a reminder, and this was ours.
I could have trained a little better, too, though I was still moving forward. That second day, the seventh ascent was nothing — with a few more hours we could have finished without a problem. We didn't follow the training plan 29029 provides; their coaches are phenomenal, sending out training plans and doing calls to answer questions. It wasn't for lack of a plan or support — life just got busy, and all we can do is all we can do. Nutrition, hydration, and electrolytes were in pretty good shape. How you prepare determines how you recover.
Even though this hike was several thousand feet shorter than previous trips, recovery went a lot better for me — less soreness and swelling than in the past. This hike started at about 8,000 feet and went up over 11,000. If you've ever been at altitude in Colorado and gotten winded just walking down the hall, imagine hiking up a hill — that oxygen is pretty handy, and it's hard to recover from that quickly. Overall, this time was better for us, and we learned a lot of lessons.
The Cowbells
What I remember a lot is hiking between the aid stations — there were three along the route, plus more at the bottom and top. When you started hiking, you often didn't know how far the next aid station was, but you could hear it — you could hear the cowbell. "There's the cowbell, we're getting close." That motivates you. The volunteers and alumni at the aid stations can't get enough credit for their motivation — you come up and it's "What can I get you? What do you need?" There are places to sit, and they hand you things as you walk by. Totally supportive.
The Science of the Endurance Mindset
For those who want to get in the weeds, there's actual biochemical physiology behind this endurance mindset. Two areas of the brain are important: the amygdala, which handles fear and emotions and helps you control them, and the anterior mid-cingulate cortex, which drives grit, determination, and decision-making. The more you do these things, the more prepared you are — it's like doing push-ups for these parts of your brain. The more you use it, the more grit you get. There's a true biochemical reason it keeps driving you, and the better your mindset becomes.
That doesn't have to be for an endurance event — it can be just getting some movement in, or going flying with your husband on a windy day. Even if it's just your first mile, getting a mile under your belt makes it feel less bad, because you're working the areas of your brain tied to grit and determination. After a significant event like these 29029s, it's like, "There's not a whole lot I can't do." Your brain becomes more efficient at that, which is fascinating.
It's a good thing to know, because as we work on improving our health, it's sometimes hard to get started — but if you can get into the mindset of continuing to move forward, it all comes together. Community, support, and perseverance really make a difference in keeping people going. Not everybody wants to go out and be uncomfortable, but the more uncomfortable you get your body, the more used to these activities you become, and it helps you in the long run.
Getting Comfortable Being Uncomfortable
We've said this several times recently: get comfortable being uncomfortable. That's really what it is — knowing you're going out here and there's going to be discomfort. This event was actually fun in a lot of ways, but there was also a lot of discomfort, and you just get comfortable with it.
We really want to thank all the volunteers, coaches, and organizers at 29029 — they do a fantastic job. We're looking forward to our next couple of climbs, since they've added new locations we want to get back to, like Mount Rainier and Steamboat. We'll see what works out for us.
We hope everybody enjoyed hearing about this adventure. If we inspire you to have your own, please reach out — we'd love to help you along the way, hear about it, and maybe have you on the podcast to talk about it. We hope everybody has a healthy day.