Through the Storm

It’s not often that I share the details of a training experience. I spend hours training each day in the pool, on the bike and out running. It’s part of my job and thus it is often unremarkable. To share each and every training experience would be likened to someone telling you about every task they completed at work each day. However, on occasion, there are experiences that warrant sharing. They are remarkable. My experience training in the mountains this past weekend was extra-ordinary, remarkable, and something I will never forget because of what I went through and what it taught me. So, on this occasion, I would like to share…

Sunday started like any other training day… I walk the dog and get a feel for what the weather may hold. Living in the mountains means that at times the weather can be unpredictable and often I use this morning walk with the pup to assess the training conditions for my first session of the day. This particular weekend brought with it some very adverse weather and, more so than usual, I was attentive to the forecast. The day before Steven and I had managed to complete a 5 hour ride in some unfavorable weather and now thinking back perhaps I went into my training on Sunday a little naive and with a feeling of confidence that the looming dark clouds in the distance were not a cause for harm.

My first session of the day called for a 2 hour and 30 minute trail run, a fairly standard session. The sun was out when I left and I recall briefly thinking that I might stuff a rain jacket in my run vest just in case the anticipated afternoon storms struck early. But I decided not to do so.

Lesson number 1: If you feel intuitively you should do something “just in case,” do it.

The trail that I chose for this morning would be described as somewhat technical, very rocky in parts, switchbacks and single track. It also included a portion called the “Three Sisters” which are three steep climbs in succession that you essentially have to power hike up as they are generally not runnable. At the top of the Third Sister you can see for miles and miles. And what I saw when I got to the top did not look good. I saw ominous storm clouds and they were moving quickly.

Lesson number 2: If you feel instinctively that you should turn around, turn around. Better safe than sorry. I did not turn around but instead continued on hoping that nothing would manifest beyond some rain.

At about 70 minutes into my run the first round of thunder sounded. I immediately got an alert on my phone for a “significant weather advisory” and knew that at this point I needed to turn around. On this particular trail you are isolated, way up in the mountains and typically won’t see but maybe a couple of people the whole time. I knew I needed to start back towards the trail head ASAP but I did not have an idea of how much time I had before the weather turned dangerous.

It turns out I had about 15 minutes. Not enough time to make it to safety. I had made it to the top of the Third Sister (in the reverse direction) when the first lighting bolt struck a popular peak in front of me known as Ensign Peak. At the top of the Third Sister you are essentially the highest point on the mountain and completely exposed. Steven and I have estimated that the distance from me to the lighting strike was approximately a quarter mile. At this point the reality of what was happening set in. I was completely surrounded by the storm and there more fast-moving storms in the distance heading my way. It all happened so quickly.

Within minutes, the wind accelerated significantly to what I estimated to be more than 40 miles per hour. The rain came in with a fury, quickly followed by large hail. I was completely exposed and trying to make my way up and over, up and over, up and over the Three Sisters.

The first phone call from Steven came when I was navigating the steep descent of the First Sister and thus almost to some more level ground. I knew I needed help but didn’t answer the call because the priority was seeking shelter.

By this point the hail was completely obliterating me and the temperatures had dropped into the 40s. There were at least 5 more lighting strikes and they all seemed to be getting closer and closer. Once on more level ground (but still significantly far away from the trail head) I found mountain shrubs to use as shelter. I pulled apart the branches and twisted and pulled on them to create a shelter. The hail and wind were still getting through but I was somewhat more protected. At this point my body temperature had dropped significantly and I was shivering uncontrollably.

I got a second call from Steven and was barely able to answer as my hands were non-functional because I was so cold. The first thing I said when I picked up was “Steven, I’m so scared. I need help.”

Lesson number three: NEVER speak words that create a reality that you don’t want to exist.

When I spoke those words my mind and body responded. Instead of flight mode, I went into fight mode. My body wanted to resist what was happening. I wanted someone to come rescue me and bring me a warm jacket and gloves and take me off the mountain. I didn’t want to move. I was crouched under a shrub almost 2000 feet up the mountain, shivering and listening as the lightning strikes kept coming towards me. I’ll never forget what Steven said next:

“Jennifer, you are the only one that can help yourself right now.”

This was the most somber realization. In my shivering, scared and helpless state, I was going to have to find a way to make it all go away. I was going to have to get myself off the mountain by my own will, courage and strength.

Lesson number 4: When you are weathering a storm (figuratively speaking), the only way out is THROUGH.

I remember Steven staying so calm and he kept encouraging me, “Jen, wait until the hail stops and then keep moving. Find a way.” At that point he said he was going to come find me at the trail head so I could have warmth and shelter as soon as possible.

The first round of hail eventually stopped but my obstacle now became the flooding waters that were gushing down the trail. It was completely washed out and despite my best efforts at stabilizing myself it was essentially like trying to walk down a muddy water slide: impossible. But I knew I needed to keep moving as the second alert came on my phone to “seek shelter” with warnings for large hail, damaging winds and lightning. The next storm was moving in quickly.

Somehow I managed to slide my way down the mountain for a bit until the terrain became manageable with very quick footsteps. Once I felt more secure I started moving quicker and quicker. The next storm appeared after about 10 minutes. Another round of lighting and hail. It became clear that this was how I was going to make it down the mountain… run until it was unsafe, seek shelter, wait it out, then keep moving. What I recall most during this time was how cold I was. I did everything I could to keep my body heat up. I clapped my hands, shook my arms, and when I could, I moved as swiftly as possible. And I prayed as boldly as I could: “Lord keep me safe.”

At this point what I remember the most is that I was having a sort of out of body experience. It’s like I was running but I was not in control of my body. My footsteps were so quick, so precise, so nimble as I ran as fast as I could down this slippery, rocky, hail-covered trail toward safety. Even as I approached the final mile of the trail the lighting was still striking again and again and again. The rain, wind and hail continued as well. Oddly enough, with only about a half mile to the trail head I stopped to tie my shoelace. I was obviously not all there at this point but, you know, safety first, right?!

I emerged at the trail head onto the road that leads home and didn’t see Steven. This was heart wrenching because I had promised myself warmth and shelter at a certain location and it wasn’t to be had. There was a lot of miscommunication over the phone between Steven and I resulting in him ending up somewhere else looking for me. He and I decided after the fact to “stick with Plan #1” especially when we are both functioning under stress and fear.

Realizing that I couldn’t stop for fear of getting cold I decided to run home. I ran as hard as I could right in the middle of the road towards home. I recall a few cars passing by and I wondered what I looked like, wondered if they thought what the heck I was doing out in these crazy storms. I remember feeling this sense that something deep inside my being had changed from the experience. I made it through safely but it was perhaps one of the scariest experiences of my life. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone but looking back I realize something significant shifted in me and, even more so, I gained something that can only come from an experience that shakes you to your core. The empowering, overcoming, fighting spirit of the human being is beyond what any of us can even fathom.

I found the power in me and the only way was to go through the storm. Literally.

My encouragement to you is to remind you that no matter how big your (figurative) storm, there is always a way through. It won’t be easy. It will be incredibly difficult and uncomfortable but you have the power in you to get through it.

Blessings to you. Power on. Thank you for reading.

Jen