Category Archives: People

Skander-ness

“…accepting what already is, what has always been, is to grasp happiness. With this in mind, we do not become happy, but rather realize the happiness that always is.

Examples of this just being are ever present in natural settings. An eagle perched in a tree keenly watches. It does not try to be an eagle, it is eagle-ness, and it does not try to watch, it just watches. The effort is not to have meaning in living, rather the effort is to be meaning. The mountains do not have meaning, their forms are the meaning of “mountain”.”

-Dave W. Wise

Josh- thanks for the adventure. Montana Centennial route follows the left skylight directly behind us. We’ll be back soon.

adventure

I woke up on June 29th knowing exactly where I needed to go for the 4th of July holidays. A few phone calls and a few days later, I was headed into the Cowen Cirque south of Livingston, Montana. In my last blog post I lamented not having the adventures I really want. Time to stop lamenting. We left Bozeman at 530am on the fourth, carried our climbing gear up the 9 mile, 3,600′ vertical trail, and drank in views of an incredible climbing line. Knowing my foot, and afternoon thundershowers were still a huge liability, we took the rest of the day to rest and watch the weather. It rained at 430pm, blew over at 630pm, and our friend Marko showed up to boost the spirit at 7pm.

At the base of the very wet route.

Josh and I woke up at 400am on the 5th, and moved quickly- breakfast, bathroom, gear, approach the route. 545am- rain. Shit. And it kept raining. We found the base of the route, but it was pouring, so we bailed and hiked up into the Cirque. While we were both sad not to climb the technical route, I think it’s impossible not to be stoked on simply being in the Cowen Cirque.

The Yellowstone Range, from the Cowen Cirque.

We had left a few creature comforts in hopes of “going light” and with more rain on the horizon, it seemed unlikely the route would be dry even by the 6th. So we hiked out and made promises of our return.

More hiking. Sad faces but great company.

This is for my mom- it’s wildflower season…

After the hike up to the Cirque, and 20 miles on the trail, my foot was cooked. Maybe the weather was a sign I wasn’t ready to be on big rock routes, but it doesn’t matter. The focus of my weekend changed on the way down, perhaps towards something even more important.

So wet. Everywhere.

Back in Bozeman Josh left for the Tetons, and I was still itching for a climbing fix. Marko and I headed out to Gallatin Canyon for a few pitches, and a little more validation that my foot is indeed still recovering. The rain chased us back to Bozeman, and left me scratching my head for the “next thing”. Saturday dawned with splitter weather, but I could barely walk. I was searching, and wasn’t going to stop. “Get your bivy gear Marko, let’s go.” My original vision from the previous Saturday wouldn’t fade- we got in the car and let my lead foot take over. I wanted alpine, any way I could get it.

Traffic jam, Yellowstone style.

East then south, then east, then north. Paradise Valley, Yellowstone National Park, the Beartooth Highway, and East Rosebud came and left the windshield. Saturday night the road ended in Alpine, Montana, and we walked from there. 10 years ago I came to Alpine after my first ever alpine climb on Granite peak. This place is even more inspiring now. We walked up the trail until I couldn’t any more, and camped on a boulder, under a boulder, with the rain washing around us.

Marko. Always game.

The morning dawned clear and we woke early. Marko had to work, and I was ready to let some domestic chores pull me away from the deep reflection and introspection the wilderness can bring. Thanks Josh for your indomitable stoke, and Marko for your willingness to simple be there with me.

lessons

So what was I chasing? Skander-ness. Like the eagles, and the mountains, I wanted to see what Skander would do, when he couldn’t be the running, climbing mountain athlete that he aspires to be. For a long time now, I’ve been living with the determination that who we are is determined by what we do- but really, this is backwards. What we do is a reflection of who we are. In many ways, I am so focused and driven by what I “should” be doing, rather than simply doing what feels most authentic to me. The notion that I am like a mountain, defining “what is Skander” simply by being, rather than pushing myself to be any particularly thing has been comforting. This post and my trip last weekend are fun reflections of that.

My last few posts have been an accurate reflection of the sadness in my heart. Compassion, breath, and gentleness have been on my mind. These are the things I need most, and are the things that I am the least good at. For a long time I’ve held to the notion that “we can be whoever we dream we are.” I’m realizing that some of the best support I’ve gotten recently has been from friends who share that vision of who I can be, even when it includes the things that I am not so good at. I’ve written a lot about my core values, but sometimes they can feel like a burden I have to uphold rather than an affirmation of who I simply truly am.

This weeks realization: “support” is more than encouraging words or physical acts- it is the belief that someone can accomplish their dreams, even if they are very difficult or don’t come naturally. My friends know my ability for compassion, joy, and gentleness- they are holding that in trust for me. I’m grateful to tap into it.

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Change

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I was supposed to head down to Utah again last night, but after a difficult telephone conversation it became clear that the motivation for going had changed, and I was not to go again. Sometimes people are different, and realizing that can be a sudden and unpleasant surprise. The morning after change is often when it is the hardest to swallow.

This post may be premature, but in my commitment to leading an examined life in this space, it would incongruous not to discuss the difficult bits. Some lessons:

Choose your words carefully- they can pack far more meaning than intended.
Never skip an opportunity to express gratitude.
Question your criticisms- they are less useful, less witty, and less wise than they may originally appear.
The power of compassion, and silliness, should not be underestimated.

Per the second item, I am grateful that the pain illuminates some dark, unnoticed corners of my personality. I am profoundly grateful to have been exposed to her joy, her wisdom, her compassion, and her energy, even for a short time. This time around, it is clear that this outcome was a product of my own word and actions, and I’m hurting for it. I have a lot of work to do on my manhood, and I look forward to it being a theme for the summer.

Easy Thankfulness.

Thank you, desert lady.

Morton’s Neuroma

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I’m writing this in hopes of helping other people get more information on a debilitating foot condition called Morton’s Neuroma (warning, graphic photo below).

My left foot, working itself to oblivion.

In October of 2011 I spent 16 days riding a bicycle ~700 miles from Bogota, Columbia to Quito, Ecuador. Days in the saddle were long, hills were steep, and I wore trail runners for the utility of having around the town shoes. After moving to Missoula, I got back into a regular pattern of long trail runs, and shortly developed an annoying pain in my left foot. I had high deductible health insurance and a healthy distrust of western medicine, so I tried ice baths and acupuncture and strengthening exercises and anything else I could think of. No luck.

Spring 2012, more biking, less running.

I started biking more, and got away from running all together, until I found 5 Fingers. My toes splayed out wider, my calves got stronger, and I got back to running. Morton’s Neuroma describes damage to nerve tissue in the web spaces between your toes, and normally feels like shooting pains. I felt the pains strongly wearing normal closed toed shoes, but the 5 Fingers seemed to keep me pain free. In June of 2012 I fractured my second metatarsal after a 14 mile run in 5 Fingers. I saw a certified Podiatrist, he gave me a walking boot, and confirmed my symptoms as Morton’s Neuroma. Not my finest moment, but I didn’t have any trouble with the Neuroma for a while.

$10,000', Pintler wilderness. The day before this photo was taken, I fractured my second metatarsal.$

10,000′, Pintler wilderness. The day before this photo was taken, I fractured my second metatarsal.

I got back to running in 5 Fingers in September 2012, and even started to wear closed toed shoes with a substantial metatarsal pad in the footbed. Things seemed to get better, until they got worse. Real pain returned in October, and I went back to the podiatrist in November for a cortisone shot. This seemed to provide some substantial relief, but I wasn’t up to running, and by the time ice season rolled around in December, ice boots didn’t feel very good either. The podiatrist wasn’t even interested in the followup appointment, let alone giving me further options for treatment. I stumbled out of his office and hoped for the best.

I went to Australia in January of 2013 and wore flip flops and 5 Fingers for a month. I was pretty much pain free, and even got out for some longer running. I took closed toed shoes, and wore them on occasion, but I had fallen in love with the 5 Fingers, so I didn’t worry about it. Coming back to work in February and something flared up in my foot, and things turned ugly for real. While in Seattle, I happened to talk to a client that had had the same problems. I had avoided even thinking about another surgery on my left foot. The bunion I had removed in March of 2011 was enough to turn me off the idea. This guy though, said it was required and I was starting to get desperate.

Just not that fun.

I boot the walking boot back on after a tough construction job in the beginning of April and got the name of a good surgeon in town. Walking without the boot became purely impossible over the next week. The surgeon and I talked on April 30 and it didn’t take long for me to realize cutting things open is sometimes the best way to go. Last Friday morning, Dr. Heid cut a 1.25″ bag of seriously pissed off nerve tissue out of the top of my left foot.

morton neuroma, neuroma surgery specimen.

The perpetrator. Scale in centimeters.

I’m taking it slow and dreaming of running in the gorgeous evening light outside my window. A big thanks to the team at Northern Rockies Orthopedics, my lovely girlfriend Sarah, and the many different Missoulians that have come out of the woodwork to trade cars (Steph&Noah!), make meals (Krista&Nate), and generally make life easier (Meghann, Tess, Paul, Kim, and many more). I think life is going to be better this way.

Good company on my couch.

Lessons:

Don’t ignore the early symptoms. Toughing it out is a bad plan.
Don’t rule out the options. I’ve passed up more adventures than I’d like to admit in the last year, mostly because I didn’t really dig into dealing with the problem.
I’m still not sure there’s a way to avoid surgery, but I suspect early treatment is always better.
Dr. Heid suspects that my leg length discrepancy+an improperly adjusted touring bike probably put my feet over the edge with all the other abuse I’ve put on them. Get your bike fitted and make sure your body mechanics work. $300 bike fitting >> $3000 surgery.
The writing desk.

Stars

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A few weeks ago I made a goal to sleep under the stars more. Last weekend Sarah had a great idea for just the place to do that. I made it to Salt Lake City by Thursday night, and Friday we headed promptly for Zion National Park.

Kolob is the name of the star that Mormons believe that God lives on- it’s also the northern part of the park. If I were God, I could see living here…

Opening views.

Drive the WHOLE overlook road…

Hiking Friday afternoon was stellar, but the camping just outside the park was stellar. Red sand, bright stars, and dinner par none. We talked about what we might do, and while Zion is famous for rock climbing, I can do that at home. Technical slot canyoneering, not so much…

Lets go.

Going down.

Lead on!

We headed down the famous Keyhole Canyon- which is pretty much everyone’s first Zion canyon, and while short, it had all the right elements. That is, the right elements to make you want more. So we jumped in Pine Creek next. More of everything, including full on darkness and free hanging rappels. So, so good.

Ready to be cold.

Last rappel- 100′ free hanging…

Mid-air photos.

Our new friend Taylor following after us…

Despite my new found love of canyoneering, it seemed criminal to go all the way to Zion and not rock climb, so after a leisurely Sunday brunch we headed out for a few easy pitches before heading back to SLC.

Putting the crack machine to good use.

Amazing views from the belay…

The verdict? I had a stellar weekend. I like sandstone, I like canyons, I like traveling, and I like this girl. Life seems pretty good that all these things fit together.

Ps. I got to hang with my buddy Bryce in SLC who is starting a rad new thing to bridge the gap between gearheads and dirtbags- check it out.

Feedback

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First thing today at work, I got some feedback that I had dropped the ball on a few things, and we probably lost some money, and some respect, because of it.

After work, and my weekend facilitating NLC sessions, our board for the group met and reviewed some of the feedback we had received- as I had invited most of the speakers, and facilitated most of the sessions- I felt pretty invested in it, and some of the negative feedback we got hit me hard.

After that meeting, I got some feedback from a friend that I had really let her down in a big way. I care about my friends a lot, so I took this more seriously than all of them.

Feedback is the most important thing in the world because it’s when we find out if what we thought (or guessed) and did actually resulted in the outcome we had hope for. In short- it’s how we actually learn.

Professionally it’s pretty easy- if we reduce utility bills, make people happier, and put a little money in the bank, we win, but it usually doesn’t keep me up at night. In my personal life it tends to hit harder, maybe because the lessons feel closer to home, and maybe because it takes a long time to really change who we are. I’ve still got plenty of work to do. Everyday, most of us strive to do our best- and every day, we guess, and we get things wrong.

I have to remind myself that my best is good enough for today. If you get it mostly right, most of the time- you’re probably doing well. Half the battle is letting go when you’re in the wrong, the other half is hanging on to the lesson.

Branding

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If you’ve followed the site for a while, you might notice a few changes today- stickthefeeling.wordpress.com is now stickthefeeling.com. You can expect to see some custom layout changes, some video content, and soon- an updated professional page for friends and small businesses.

Elke lays it out for our group.

Last year, I wrote a lot about New Leaders Council – Montana and the important relationships the group has helped me cultivate in the Western Montana community. This year, I’m on the board and have been coordinating speakers for the seminar series and setting up mentorship for our fellows to foster some of these awesome relationships for other people. One of the notes I took during last years seminars was to continue to build the strong personal brand that I started here in 2011. Part of that is owning this domain, and committing to keeping the content fresh and growing. No, building my brand does not mean slighting my work at Energetechs- if anything, my work there is only growing deeper, stronger, and more meaningful. I think having a strong personal brand will only compliment that work.

While facilitating the NLC sessions has certainly absorbed quite a bit of my discretionary time, we’ve had a weekend full of amazing presentations with leaders from the following folks. A huge thank you to the following people:

Stephanie from The Truman National Security Project
Bryan&Erin from AERO & WVE
Russ & Tynille from Energetechs and Monkey Bar Gym Missoula
Susan from United Way of Missoula
Gen&Josh from Garden City Harvest
Elke from MamaLode

Many people complain about the economic environment in Missoula, but I am continually blown away by the quality of leaders and entrepreneurs that we have met with. Please check out the awesome things happening at each of the above organizations.

Old Guard

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I’m behind on posting, but not for lack of adventure. A week ago I was in Jackson, WY- fighting a nasty cold, loving some time with my lovely lady, and catching up with one of my Denali partners via a foot of Freshiez off of WYO 22.

Getting our fix at the Teton Ice Park.

Bryan @ Top of Glory, reasonable name…

“No officer, we are not hitch-hiking.”

This weekend I’m in Bozeman for much of the same. Despite not ice climbing much this year, this afternoon I was able to tick a line that has inspired me since my second ever trip to Hyalite in 2009. The Sceptre gets WI5 in the guidebook, but at this point in the season it climbs like a stiff grade 4. I felt really fortunate to share the beautiful weather yesterday with two wonderful climbers (one of whom I had known only by reputation)- thanks to Marko and Echo for being such strong and inspiring partners.

Sceptre is in fat. (Photo: Echo Oak)

Top out stoke. (Photo Echo Oak)

Echo, burning laps.

The Scepter is adjacent to The Mummy II, which makes for a nice warmup. The title though relates to one of the coolest parts of my Saturday. I’m warming up on top-rope in the foreground, but in the back you can see The Sceptre- with someone else climbing on it. I had noticed two older gentlemen and a younger guy approach the climb before I left the ground and I assumed the younger guy would lead it. I should have known better- there is an old guard in Hyalite, guys who have lived and climbed here for over 40 years. They are responsible for most of the established climbs, most of the mentorship, and most of the special energy and spirit that this place has.

In good company.

I had only heard of Pat Callis from guidebook descriptions, but those guidebook descriptions credit him with first ascents as early as 1973. Pat was out climbing yesterday, I’m guessing he is in his mid-60s, and leading The Sceptre as confidently as most people his age discuss bond investments or board a flight to Paris. He was also mentoring the younger man in his party, as I’m sure Pat has done for countless other Montana climbers. I found the climbing challenging and wasn’t entirely sure I’d finish things cleanly. Climbing is a beautiful equalizer, and also equally accessible- if you want to do it, take care of your body, and are humble enough to learn- there are very few limits on what you can accomplish. The climbing community in Montana is riddled with the old guard, and I’m privileged to be around them.

Earned

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You hear it all the time, “he/she is a natural.” “The kid is an expert at 22.” “They did [insert climb/performance/activity] with excellence beyond their years.”

No doubt, the world of both climbing and music (both performance oriented activities) have seen increasingly amazing performances from a wide cast of participants in recent years. Younger people doing harder and harder things, and this post is not to downplay their achievements. To be transparent, their achievements make me honestly question how I have spent me time, and what I hope to accomplish in the grand terms of my life. In the greater lens of life beyond sport and music, I believe firmly that real excellence is usually harder won than some youth would have us think.

UM Dining services greenhouse- starting plants for consumption on campus.

This week in the home performance contracting world, once again I bit off more than I could chew. Our belief as a company is that your home is a system, and all the parts and sub-systems have to work appropriately for the system to deliver real performance. I estimated what it would take to insulate the thermal mass element at the UM Dining Greenhouse project- and my estimate came up well short. As a project manager, you’re job is to know how things go- but I’ve still got a lot to learn. Ultimately my team picked up the slack and I still have a hard time letting people people help me (something else I’m looking forward to learning). It happens, and as our master carpenter likes to remind me- “mistakes are the fastest way to learn.” He’s been in this business, learning systems and making mistakes for almost 40 years. Just because it looks simple doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Insulated thermal mass is trickier than you think.

Insulating thermal mass is trickier than you think.

Vapor control system.

Wall prep.

I have high standards for myself- most of my friends and family believe these standards are often too high, and they are probably right. I think most of us want to believe that we are good at what we spend our time doing. That if we are working hard, we must be working well, and that we can achieve “mastery” or “excellence” in everything, and quickly. My experience is to say- no. Mastery is the result of many mistakes, many failures, and many attempts.

All at once.

Blow.

The price of re-learning how to blow a wall.

I am willing to say that while working harder is not always an indication of progress, failing often might be- so long as you don’t miss the lesson. Humility is a gift, mistakes are opportunities, questions are invaluable. Don’t miss the chance to pick yourself up and keep going.

Excellence is earned.

Finished.

“I will not make excuses, I will make corrections.” (Gym Jones)

Habits

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There was a photo I took in December that I chose not to publish here- it just wasn’t the right time, but now probably is.

Christmas morning.

That’s Sarah. I took this photo on Christmas Day, just before I kissed her goodbye and drove 510 miles back to Missoula. This weekend, Sarah made the opposite trip to see Missoula for the first time, and that made me happy in a way that I haven’t experienced in a long time. Call it as you see it. To me it’s fun, solid, and exciting, but the title doesn’t really matter- I’m just stoked to think she might show up in my life with increasing frequency.

Despite my month away, life in Missoula has fit back together quickly, and in some ways I’m already fighting to avoid bad habits I was hoping to break away from. Fortunately, I’ve had a lot of help. My boss called off work on Friday and bought us lift tickets to enjoy the 3 feet of fresh snow in the mountains around town (which also meant Sarah had a chance to sleep after driving all night to get here for the weekend).

FRESHIEZ

Saturday though, I was more than happy to get back in the habit of finding good ice climbing in Finley Creek. My friend Tess joined Sarah and I for a perfect day under blue skies and many top rope laps.

More belay.

Mostly importantly, Sarah reminded me how awesome it is to break my busy habits, go for a walk, and get to know someone. Along the river, around my neighborhood, through First Friday, and up the Rattlesnake we enjoyed learning just a little more about who we are welcoming into our lives. I can’t wait to see her again soon.