North Pole Tenderfoot. Doug Hall

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Working out in full gear

      Given that fitness was foreign to me, I outsourced my program to personal trainers in a six-day-a-week, often twice-a-day schedule. I lifted weights, trained as a boxer, did aerobic exercises, and took up long-distance swimming, spinning, cross-country skiing on roller skis, and running. I also did cross training in full Arctic gear. My kids thought it was so funny they volunteered to get up early and go to watch me.

      Each of the trainers made me their special project. In each case, I was blunt with them. I knew I’d found the right trainer when they responded to my challenge with glee. I especially liked the ones who added a touch of sadistic humor. They took the challenge seriously. I provided an opportunity for them to really apply the intensity of their training.

      My biggest challenge was learning what it feels like to work out. Over the years I had insulated myself from fitness through a commitment to not getting hurt. When I exercised and felt pain, I stopped to prevent injury.

      In truth, I had been lazy. I didn’t understand good pain from bad pain. I didn’t understand that muscle soreness from a workout was a good thing. It meant I was getting stronger. Although I understood the basics of working out, I didn’t know what it really felt like to be healthy.

      The trainers had a common religion: the heart rate monitor. It’s a truth teller. When my mind told me I felt tired, even though my body was capable of more, the monitor would snitch on me, and the trainers would demand more effort.

      During the December training trip, I tracked my heart rate while working with the dogs and sleds. While in the snow and loaded with gear, my heart ran above 75 percent of my theoretical maximum rate. When the sled had to be pushed and pulled, my heart rate shot up to 90 percent of maximum.

      As the time for the journey came near, I underwent a second heart stress test at Canyon Ranch in the Berkshires. An earlier test at their Tucson location showed that my heart and lungs were in below-average shape. Not good enough. The test involved running as fast as I could on a treadmill for as long as I could, wearing a facemask to measure my oxygen intake and my CO₂ output. A nurse stood next to me with what looked like heart jumper cables while I kept thinking, “Sell my clothes, Mabel, I’m heaven bound.”

      I lasted twelve minutes in my first test. On the second one I managed twenty-three minutes. Afterward, the Canyon Ranch doctor said, “I have good news and bad news.”

      “Give me the bad news first,” I said.

      “The bad news is you can’t use your heart as an excuse for not going” he said. “The good news is you may freeze to death, but you probably won’t die from a heart attack. Your heart is in excellent shape.”

      The test indicated that I had the maximum heart rate of a twenty-nine-year-old and the VO₂ max of a man of twenty-four. Naturally, I’ve been mentioning these results since then to anyone who will listen.

      By the time I left for the expedition I had increased the average maximum weight I could lift by 32 percent. For the first time in my life, I could bench press my weight! Not bad for a guy who a year before could only bench press 60 percent of his weight (roughly equivalent to seven small sacks of potatoes).

      I was in the best shape of my entire life. Of course, that wasn’t saying much.