Efficiency Rules All

Early in my college career, I made several attempts to run the medium-steepness route up the "M", the great symbol of Montana State which is plastered to the mountainside just outside of Bozeman.  Attempt one was met with 3/4 mile of running, followed by my legs going numb, my lungs searing, and my brain shutting off from lack of oxygen.  I had to stop and hike just over halfway up.  On my next attempt, I attempted to conserve as much energy as possible by milking the flats for all they were worth, and not picking up my feet any more than necessary.  Again, I was met with numb legs, searing lungs, and a cloudy head.  That time, however, I was actually able to run the entire way.

As my years as a student at MSU went by, I kept going back to the "M" a few times per year.  It hurt like a bugger every time.  But ever so slowly, it got a bit easier.  I learned to relax every unneeded muscle in my body and to shorten and quicken my stride.  I learned that on really steep sections it is helpful to turn sideways to not burn-out my calves.  I learned to engage my inner abs to allow my hips to move more freely.  I learned that it is helpful to imagine myself floating up the hill.  

Coming down off the Bridger Ridge between the "M" and Baldy Mountain.  Beating an old time record from college by 7 minutes!  

Now don't get me wrong, running the "M" is not easy, and at it's best it does hurt a bit, but what once used to be a monumental accomplishment for me to run has now become a rather short and simple workout.  It's not that I'm necessarily in twice as good of shape, it's just that over the years I've learned how to run trails.  I've learned something that in the world of outdoor sports should never be underestimated- EFFICIENCY.

Now out of college and having spent the better part of the last nine years obsessing over various mountain sports, the reach of my goals has extended well beyond running the "M".  In the sport of trail running, I'm now putting my thoughts toward running ultramarathons and peaks.  This summer, assuming I survive my June ultramarathon without injury, I plan to begin running the highest points in Montana.    

Unlike my understanding of the term back in college, "trail running" encompasses much more than simply "running" up and down trails.  Rather, it refers to moving over mountain terrain with high speed and efficiency.  Even when the best runners in the world "run mountains", they often spend time power-hiking large sections of steep trail.  "Running" is not always the fastest way to cover terrain... especially the really steep stuff.  

My exploration for maximum efficiency and speed has become an incredibly engaging endeavor.  The tactics of a mountain run are far beyond those of attempting to "run" the "M" in terms of its considerations regarding efficiency.  On a mountain run, not only are you focusing on efficiency in stride, you are also constantly assessing which sections of trail you should be running and which sections you should be power-hiking.  Much like riding a bike, you also have to learn to let go on downhills and carry your momentum into uphills.  

I've run Baldy Mountain in the Bridger Mountains many times, and it seems that every time I do it I use a different combination of hiking and running, and I improve in my ability to brake less on downhills and carry my momentum into uphills.  I've watched my round-trip times on Baldy Mountain fall from just under three hours down to about exactly 2 hours.  I can assure you that fitness improvement can only account for a small percentage of my time improvement.  Mostly, my improvement is a consequence of better efficiency.

Much like trail running, efficiency is also paramount in rock climbing.  I remember working my first 5.12-graded route at the natural bridge by Big Timber.  It was slightly overhanging, and it was one tiny edge after another.  I fell off five or six times on my first go, and my forearms were rock hard from desperately trying to hang on.  By my fourth try, I was able to climb to the top of the route without falling.  Obviously, my success had nothing to do with getting stronger.  I had simply learned the movement on the route, relaxed my fear (and along with it my grip), and I was able to focus on using my feet to their maximum potential.  Most people who start climbing feel their arms burning and think they are just out of shape.  In reality, they are just moving inefficiently and using their arms too much.

On a route such as this one near Dayton, WY, your only prayer in making the top is to be efficient and use your feet and relax your grip.  Only pull hard when you absolutely must!  

I can't help but think about how many other things in my life could do well to be treated with the care toward efficiency that I demonstrate in my running and climbing.  Perhaps at work meetings I could do my part toward keeping them unemotional and focused on the goal of the meeting.  Perhaps I could find other ways to grade student homework so more of my time could be spent on lesson-planning, an often more efficient application of time when it comes to student learning.  Perhaps I could get rid of some possessions so I don't spend so dang much time looking through and sorting so much junk.  Perhaps I should realize that sometimes being the most efficient comes down to being okay with taking a day off from working, or running, or climbing, and just lying on the couch watching movies instead.