RMI Expeditions Blog

Namaste from Kathmandu. Yes, we are out of the mountains... the team has finished the trek! The last couple of days of our descent have been really exciting dear friends. Upon our arrival into Namche Bazaar, we took a rest day to enjoy the magic that embraces one when in the Khumbu. With the best weather one can imagine and with the image of the highest mountains of the world very vivid in our memories, we found ourselves having an incredible surprise: we'd take a helicopter tour around Everest! Story aside, it is worth mentioning how seeing from the air lines that wrote history in mountain climbing, like the Hornbein Couloir made our eyes "watery". We'd finish our descent to Lukla and bask in thick air as the smell of the aviation fuel brought us to realize we were getting to the end of an incredible trek. We flew into Kathmandu this morning where we await our flights back home at the same time as we will be witnessing tomorrow the second democratic elections in this small Himalayan country. Nepali people are to elect a government to end a five-year period of an unstable care-taking government since the abolition of their monarchy... but this is a "summit" Nepal has to climb and we wish them luck. That has been all from our trip. Thanks to all of you who followed our adventure through our RMI Blog, to our great Sherpa Nawang Dorjee, to our Nepali outfitter HAD and Sagar in particular and to the mountains for being there and providing such an experience and making us feel so small. RMI Guide Elias de Andres Martos

Today I was surprisingly asked a question that, as far as I can tell, is as old as human curiosity, parental affection and plain ol’ sibling rivalry. This may seem strange because I only have one child, and my somewhat unhinged three wingnut dogs can’t speak and honestly don’t care about the answer as long as they are fed and played with. As you may have guessed, the question so abruptly put on me this morning was: “daddy, who’s your favorite?” Harder to guess was, who asked it? Things started normally enough; I made breakfast for my kiddo before packing him up and carting him off to preschool. I fed my dogs and chickens, cleaned the kitchen, and prepared for a day of light recreating before my afternoon duties began. It was when I entered the garage, home to my all important man cave and location of all my beloved fly fishing and climbing gear that things took a bizarre turn. Standing in front of me (I kid you not!) side by side, with puppy dog eyes looking up, stood my 12’6” Echo spey rod and my carbon fiber, oh so beautiful, Cobra ice tools. These sorts of things don’t just happen so I double checked my reality button. Dreaming? No I don’t think so. I have been up for three hours, had my coffee, and still felt the throb in my left big toe where I slammed it into the chest at the side of my bed. Ok, I’m awake. Drugged? No, I quit taking hallucinogens in high school and my wife, I think, genuinely cares about me. Then what? My two favorite activities in life, swinging flies for big trout with my spey rod and ice climbing, which is now doable in Bozeman, Montana, have come to a head. With a few free hours, my fishing rod and ice tools came alive and wanted me to pick favorites. Sheeesh! What’s a guy to do? As time stood still, I began to reflect on the week long steelhead fishing trip I took just two weeks prior to the Grand Rhond, Clearwater, and Snake rivers. Ohhh, the joy of that trip made me quiver. It made me want to reach out, grab my spey rod child and declare my love for him. 28 inch ocean run rainbows on the swing, the thrill of the next hook up, not wearing a heavy pack; the reasons almost overwhelmed me. Yes, yes, you will always be my favorite!!! Then I saw my ice tools. Hyalite Canyon is in! I can’t wait for the thrill of running it out on newly formed thin ice over a stubby ice screw, waking up before the sun, and realizing this day was bound to hold everything but the predictable. Ohh, ice tools, you are my favorite, “let’s go climb something!” I think you understand my dilemma. Parenting has taught me much in the five years that I’ve been at it. Love, patience and compassion are always at the forefront of dealing with children. Frustrations always arise. Liam spills my wine on the new rug, my spey rod whips bullets at the back of my head leaving welts the size of cheese curds on my scalp, ice tools rip out unexpectedly and send waves of sudden panic through me that make me want to puke. All part of the landscape I guess. So how did I answer the question, “who is your favorite”? Here I leaned on the invaluable lessons gleaned from seven years of blissful marriage. I compromised. That day I took the ice tools out for their first climb of the season. I packed them up with the rest of my climbing gear all the while psyched I had just promised my fishing rod we would get out tomorrow. It’s a difficult web we weave, balancing work and play. I honestly felt troubled that I had to recreate two days in a row, climbing then fishing, but then again parenting is also about sacrifice. As readers of the RMI Blog, most of you are probably cracking a smile but are also curious how this story is relevant to the mission of mountain climbing, training, and/or preparing for an upcoming goal. Here is how I connect the dots: Fishing for me is the yin to my climbing yang. It is a glorious mental escape which allows me to shelve my daily stresses and exist purely in the moment. Everyone needs this periodic meditation to reset and clear the mind. For many, exercise accomplishes the same release but regular exercise does not necessarily constitute “training”. The expectations I put on myself when climbing on my own are very high and the specific training schedule I follow can at times be demanding, painful, and sometimes unpleasant. Here is where we tie in sacrifice. Everyone’s life is managed by time. Somewhere on that big round clock is time you can utilize for yourself. If you have a goal of climbing a mountain, running a marathon, or bench pressing a Ford truck, you need to prioritize and then commit! Finding enjoyment and purpose in life comes when these commitments are made. Being a husband and father keep me grounded. Being a passionate climber and guide keep me psyched and motivated, and the hunt for big fish calms me down. In the big picture I think I have found some balance. Remember it takes the black and the white, the yin and the yang, to complete the circle. The web you weave and balance you seek are your own, but seek it with conviction and purpose and you will be just fine. __________ Adam Knoff is a senior guide at RMI, husband, father, and fish wrangler. A versatile and talented rock, ice, and big mountain climber, Adam has climbed and guided throughout the world, in Alaska, the Himalaya, and in his backyard of Bozeman, MT. Adam is guiding an upcoming Mexico's Volcanoes trip, Expedition Skills Seminar - Ecuador, and will be leading a team on the West Buttress of McKinley next June. Questions? Comments? Share your thoughts here on the RMI Blog!

Namaste from Deboche. We have just checked into our lodge after finishing our second day of our steady descent back down the Khumbu Valley. Yesterday we changed things up in the initial itinerary, crashing at Dingboche so we could have a closer view of Ama Dablam's north face. Besides the new views, we were also rewarded with a great night of sleep, having dropped nearly 1,000 meters from Everest Base Camp. The descent today gave us more thicker air to breath as well as the so much needed higher temperature; we where certainly feeling the approaching winter in the high Himalayas. We'll be checking in again from Namche... another handful of hundreds of feet lower!!! Pics from the last few days... uploading now with better bandwidth! RMI Guide Elias de Andres Martos

On The Map

This past autumn I left the surf and sand of Southern California to attempt my first 8,000-meter peak, solo, and without supplemental oxygen or Sherpa support. I don’t quite remember when the idea came about, but climbing a Himalayan giant is something I’ve dreamt of since an early age. This project always struck me as a rematch of sorts, as my first foray into mountaineering as a teen was a botched solo attempt on Mt. Whitney in January. That first climb put me through the ringer and I departed for this expedition fully expecting the same. With expeditions like this, the unknowns are bound to be many; I heard differing opinions on just about everything. “Kathmandu is modern and you can buy all your supplies there,” one person would say, and then the next day I would hear the opposite. For the record, Kathmandu is definitely not modern - but all this can be fun. I found adventure in the 21st century and that seems to be rare. So I planned for what I could and insulated myself from what I couldn’t. It was exhilarating to know that I had no concept of everything I’d face. Near midnight on the 1st of September, I hit the tarmac of Kathmandu International Airport. The city of Kathmandu sits within a large valley at the foot of the Himalaya. Its streets are crowded and its buildings somewhat dilapidated, but the people are kind and the food is fantastic. Surely much has changed since the first westerners arrived, but there is still a sense of lore about the place. Hindu temples, large and small, are strewn about, and filled with worshipers while Buddhist monks’ roam the streets. The entirety of this scene is cast against the gear shops and bustle of everyday city life in a place steeped in climbing history. On September 10th I arrived at Chinese Base Camp, the “end of the road”. Over the previous week I’d driven through the alpine rainforests of Nepal and into the moonscape of the Tibetan Plateau. At the Tibetan border it is necessary to leave your Nepali ride and walk across the “Friendship Bridge” flanked on either side by the Nepalese and Chinese military. Once across, I met my Chinese Liaison and Tibetan driver. We quickly departed and speedily wove through the streets of Zhangmu, a border town perpetually stuck in a dense fog of clouds as they collide with the rising Tibetan Plateau. At Chinese Base Camp (BC, 16,300') I still was 2,400’ vertical feet and an unknown distance from Advanced Base Camp (ABC). I spent 3 days at BC waiting for yaks (pack animals that would move my supplies to ABC). While waiting, I developed a terribly bothersome head cold; unfortunately this was not the only time I got sick during this expedition. Days later and sick as a dog, I trekked the last distance into ABC, low visibility, snowing hard with a frigid wind in my face. We erected ABC (18,700') and soon I fell into the rhythm of establishing higher camps mixed with days of leisure. Everything seemed to slowly come together, as I prepared my body and my supplies for a possible summit window in the beginning of October. I think what kept me most sane during the expedition was my focus on the immediate. An undertaking such as this can be daunting if you try to grasp the sum of the next 20-day span, including the challenges yet to be overcome. So I’d only spool out as much time as was immediately necessary in my mind, and kept my thoughts off the many days ahead of me to reach the summit. Throughout the climbing period of the expedition I kept a brisk pace between camps, taking care not to push myself so hard that I couldn’t construct camp and take care of myself adequately afterwards. It’s a fine line up there; it’s far too easy to push yourself past the limit. I saw this countless times with other climbers but they had the safety net of Sherpas, guides, and teammates to assist them when they took on too much. I had no such safeguard and this was something I had to always take into account. I wouldn’t want to put a negative connotation on climbing solo though, because it was gratifying in its simplicity. On September 30th I pulled into Camp 3 at 24,500’. I recall constructing camp atop a small ridge of snow perched beneath the notorious Yellow Band. Here I definitely felt the altitude. Beneath me two Sherpa friends were digging in a platform for their team’s arrival. I’d look over at them as I was catching my breath and they’d be doing the same, smiling and laughing with each other at the ridiculousness of it all. Climbing without supplemental oxygen and solo (or as solo as it gets on Cho Oyu) has dangers that are heightened, namely the two forms of edema: HAPE and HACE. These affect the lungs and/or brain and are deadly if they persist without descending to lower altitudes. These conditions mainly strike during the night as your breathing naturally decreases. Being on your own when this happens can be mortally dangerous. I took measures to lower my risk by staying hydrated, well feed, comfortable, stress free, and I always kept a wary eye on my breathing and short term memory. The year prior I’d seen firsthand the grim realities of high altitude mountaineering on Argentina’s Aconcagua, after a rescue of another team turned tragic. Cerro Aconcagua was my previous high point at 22,841’. Everything beyond was unknown and I was well above that now and pushing higher. In hindsight, perhaps maybe I should have been more nervous at these altitudes, but I suppose I never felt threatened by them. As was the case in all my previous expeditions, the altitude only seemed to leave me breathless and nothing worse, not even a headache. And so I hydrated, ate and went to bed excited for my summit attempt only hours away. Summit Day I awoke at 12 midnight; outside I could hear guides addressing their climbers, the hiss of oxygen bottles as the regulators were spun on and the crunch of crampons engaging the firm snow as the first teams departed. Climbers’ torches faintly lighted my tent as they passed and the walls were lined with ice that rained down with the slightest nudge. I gave myself a once over, everything felt good and I was ready. I roused and started my stove, opened a few vents to ensure proper ventilation and stuck my head out the top of the tent. I had spoken to the leaders of the other expeditions and they were leaving quite early, at 12 midnight which meant they had woken up hours earlier. My plan was to leave as late as 2 am for two reasons: firstly I wanted to meet sunrise sooner as I would be running colder without O’s (oxygen), and secondly to give the other teams a large enough head start to ensure I could keep warm by continually climbing. But this night would be hapless from the moment I spilled my hot water all over the tent. As the other teams passed, and in a moment of carelessness, I fumbled a liter of water in my tent. Luckily, everything required for the summit push was outside in my pack. But with the threat of getting my boots or down suit wet I decided to depart for the summit immediately. The time was 1 am, an hour earlier than I had planned, and as soon as I left my tent I saw a traffic jam forming at the Yellow Band – a formation of rock above Camp 3. Hoping that their supplemental oxygen would see them through with some speed I continued on, but as I ascended it became apparent that they would not climb as hastily as I had hoped. As I sat in line below this technical rock step my extremities lost feeling. Swinging them in circles - something we call “windmills”, easily reinvigorated my hands. But climbing through the chilly night, I wasn’t able to completely regain feeling in my toes, this was a constant concern. However, I had not lost the ability to wiggle them as I took each step so I continued climbing into the night. After the Yellow Band, I threaded my way through a steeper section comprised of rock and snow, unclipping from the fixed lines and passing other teams as often as I was able too. The process of passing other teams at that altitude is quite tiring, as I had to abandon my efficient rhythm for a faster pace outside of the beaten in route, at times breaking into the snow up to my knees. Luckily I only had to do this 3 or 4 times as the majority of the climbers were moving faster than I was, with their bottled oxygen giving them more stamina. I recall one moment at 25,800' when I became exceedingly nauseous. But it quickly passed and I continued on. This was the only moment I felt the altitude affect me. At Camp 3, when I left, it was warm and still with high clouds touching the summit, but now, at 26,000', a light wind had picked up and the last of the high clouds were blowing over me. My suit was covered in ice and I had to stop periodically to rewarm my face by burying it in the cowl of my hood. As I reached striking distance of the summit (or so I thought) the horizon became faintly lit. And I encouraged by what it signified! As I came over the top onto the summit plateau I saw a high point off to my left, but Liz Hawley, an elderly woman who keeps the records of the Himalaya, warned me against this. I met Liz in Kathmandu, and discussed my plan for the expedition. She instructed me, “When you enter the plateau you’ll see a high point off to your left that seems to be the obvious summit, but go forward and slightly to your right and continue until you see Everest. This will be the true summit.” I recalled her words and continued on straight. Those last 45 minutes plodding along at 26,900' for what seemed an eternity, a quarter of a mile, the summit not even visible (or so I thought) was the hardest for me. I had nothing to hold onto. The plateau seemed to stretch beyond the visible horizon. Despair mounted at the thought of having to start grid searching for the damnable thing. I scanned the plateau again. It was then that I noticed a single string of prayer flags off in the distance to my right; on a mound no higher than 3 feet from the point I was standing. It was the summit, maybe one of the least climactic summits I’ve experienced, but I was deeply relieved when I got there and found myself standing at the summit of Cho Oyu! Alex Barber on the summit of Cho Oyu I was on top for about 15 minutes. Most of the time seated on my pack eating peanut M&Ms and washing them down with warm Tang from my thermos. I made a speedy descent to Camp 3, quickly packed and made the entire descent to ABC, arriving soon after dusk. Dawa, one of my cooks waited outside of ABC for me with hot tea and a huge smile, after a celebratory embrace we descended the last 15 minutes together into ABC. I felt relieved to be finished. The day was October 1st, I had summited at 8:20 am that morning Nepali time. You know, I’ve been asked what it felt like for everything to culminate and be on top. That feeling of accomplishment or exhilaration - what was it like? But I think what draws me isn’t that singular moment at the top or any feeling of exhilaration from being there. Instead it’s the quieter and constant sense of contentment that comes from the simplicity of mountaineering, the journey along the way and being surrounded by extraordinary beauty that challenges you to conquer – not the mountain – but yourself. For me the journey is the destination. Alex Barber is a mountain guide for RMI Expeditions and splits his time between the beaches of Southern California and mountains around the world. Alex will be guiding an Expedition Skills Seminar – Winter in January before returning to the Himalaya this spring to attempt Lohtse and Shishapangma. Read more about his climb and follow the upcoming adventures on www.alexanderbarber.com.

Namaste from Gorak Shep. Happy to post that the team's objective of taking time lapse pictures of the Milky Way spinning over and around the tallest mountain of the world has been accomplished! Despite the frigid cold and with permission from the ever watching sentinels of Pumori and Nupse, we biouvaked last night at 5,400m on the side hills of Kala Patar. Looking right at the summit pyramid of Everest, we had the clearest evening one can imagine; a crisp sky would merge without interruptions with the sharp, silky white silhouette of the mountain ridges while being lit by a perfect moon. Half way through the night, we'd experience once more why we westerners owe so much to the local people of the himalaya; our Sherpa Nawang would meet us bring up a 2l thermos of tea as we were experiencing the frost accumulating over our sleeping bags and camera equipment. Today, with the memories of an spectacular night, we payed a visit to the Khumbu Glacier's morraine where the Base Camp for Everest is set during the climbing season. We are now enjoying dinner at our lodge, with our minds set in our descent that starts tomorrow. Our first stop will be Dingboche to enjoy again astonishing views of the N. Face of Ama Dablam. More updates to come in a couple of days from the thicker air villages of the Khumbu. RMI Guide Elías de Andrés

On The Map

In the 1930s, Swedish running coach Gösta Holmér was trying to find a way to kick start a floundering national cross country running team that had been thoroughly trounced by a strong Finnish team throughout the 1920s*.  Part of his answer was an interval workout with a name that most Americans have trouble saying with a straight face: fartlek.  Fartlek translates to English as “speed play”, and the workout is just that.  A free flowing and loose type of interval workout, Fartlek has many incarnations and can greatly benefit climbers as part of a workout plan.   Fartlek workouts have gained popularity in the sports of running and nordic skiing (both heavily Scandinavian sports) since Holmér’s creation, but they can be accomplished in a wide variety of activities: swimming, cycling, and walking are all conducive to playing with speed.     Completed within a continuous workout, such as a longer run, the fartlek portion typically lasts for at least 45 minutes.  After a good warm-up, many people begin the fartlek with a few minutes of a sustained increase in effort.  This effort shouldn’t be all out, but a bump of 15 to 20 seconds per mile from your normal distance aerobic pace.  This continues the warm-up process and readies your muscles and body for the gear changes that make up the fartlek workout.  After this period, you are ready to play.  The fartlek consists of increases in pace of varying duration and intensity, always returning to your aerobic distance pace.  This could be a few quick steps thrown in every 50 meters - to simulate a bump in pace or a few difficult steps to get through an awkward section of Disappointment Cleaver - or a sprint of 50-60 meters every few hundred meters, simulating a short stretch of steep climbing.  Longer efforts of one to several minutes can be used, as well as harder efforts up hills, with recovery over the top and on the descent.  One of the main points of the fartlek is that it is continuous.  After your harder efforts, you should return to your aerobic distance pace.  If you can’t sustain this and you find your pace slowing, back off the intensity of your harder efforts.     This is a great workout to do with a partner or group.  Switch leaders often, vary the length and intensity, and have fun.  Pick different points to push to; racing to signposts, up hills, and racing mailboxes (push for two mailboxes then back off, then push for four, and back off, etc.) are all great ways to keep the workout entertaining and fun.  Checkout these different fartlek ideas on Active.com and Triathlete.com for inspiration.    Fartlek has benefits for climbers throughout the different phases of a training plan.  Early on in training, the goal is base fitness and building aerobic endurance.  While aerobic endurance is incredibly important to the sport of mountaineering, the long slow nature of these workouts can leave athletes feeling sluggish and with a difficult time increasing the pace.  During this phase, fartlek is a great way to maintain your ability to switch gears mid workout.  As you move into your threshold building phase, fartlek is a great mid intensity interval workout that helps train your body to recover between efforts - important in a sport where a few more difficult steps at altitude can leave you gasping for breath.  Experiment with different formulas, and try throwing these workouts into your plan once or twice a week.  The fartlek workout is a great way to add some creative freedom to your weekly training regimen.  Lastly, don’t forget the “play” in “speed play”!     _________ *Source: Wikipedia article “Fartlek”. Questions? Comments? Share your thoughts here on the RMI Blog!

Hello, this is the Everest Base Camp Trek. We are calling from Gorak Shep where we just arrived after a few days since our last post. We are in great shape. We have enjoyed very nice weather and steady pace coming up here where we will stay for the next two to three days. Trying to take some pictures and getting ready for the descent. So far all is good and we are enjoying our time up here. That's all for now. RMI Guide Elías de Andrés-Martos

On The Map

Hello from the "Himalayan Hotel" at Pheriche! Another incredible day in the Himalayas, dear friends... And we can certainly say now we are going to spend the first night at high altitude, having hiked above the 4,000m benchmark. After a rather cold night in Pangboche, we were greeted by another cloudless sky, whose sun made us ditch our layers just a few minutes after the start. Headed towards Pheriche Pass, we enjoyed astonishing views of Kantega, Tamserku (two of the most radical 6,000m peaks in the Khumbu,) and of course Ama Dablam. Like on the previous days, the mystique of the landscape is only disturbed by the heavy downhill traffic that we encounter from time to time. While we await our dinner and as I write this post, we're also getting ready to set up for another session of nocturnal time lapse pictures before the evasive crescent moon we have vanishes. The plan tomorrow is to rest here, to continue to acclimate taking a short hike, to visit the Himalayan Rescue Hospital next door, and, of course, stay well nourished with the momos and tea that (among other things) make us look forward to every meal. On a side note, we celebrated on the trails a rendezvous with fellow guide Lakpa Gelu and RMI office staff Bridget Schletty. Regards to everyone, RMI Guide Elías de Andres Martos

On The Map

Good evening from Pangboche. It has been a couple of days since our last post, but electricity and internet have been unreliable above Namche. We arrived today to the village where the trail splits between the Ama Dablam and Everest Base Camps' trails. We came here after a short hike from Deboche, where we arrived yesterday after our rest day at Namche. The clearing skies we have encountered as we have climbed higher have provided the first great opportunities for time lapse pictures of both sunrise and sunset over Ama and the Everest-Lotse-Nuptse group. Our plan is to hike up to Pheriche tomorrow where we'll continue to acclimatize taking at least one rest day. We are on schedule for full moon at Kala Patar. We see lots of down traffic as the season comes to a close but we continue up in pursue of the crisp skies of the early winter for the time lapse pictures we're after. We'll try to report again from Pheriche. Best regards from the Himalaya! RMI Guide Elias de Andres Martos

On The Map

When most people think about strength workouts, they think about joining a gym and lifting weights to build muscle mass. I grew up as an alpine ski racer and continue to stay involved in the sport now as a ski coach. If you have watched an alpine ski race, in person or on TV, you know that ski racing is all about leg strength. Although mountaineers don’t need to be hitting the weight room to the same extent as a ski racer, strength is a key component to climbing.    
Traveling around the world as an athlete, coach, and guide, I do not always have access to a weight room. During the season I still need to do exercises to maintain strength. I make use of local parks or playgrounds (where the entry fee is free) or even my own living room.   Below are a couple of key exercises that you can do either in a gym or in the comfort of your own home. Remember, whenever doing strength workouts, it is important to get a proper warm-up and cool-down and listen to your body in order to stay injury-free and get the most from the workout.   Warm-Up: This involves 15 - 20 minutes of running or biking to get your muscles warmed up. This is imperative since diving into strength training cold is a great way to hurt yourself. This time can be spent on a stationary bicycle, a couple laps around the neighborhood on a road bike or mountain bike, a few laps around the track or soccer field, or a jog around the neighborhood.    Body Weight Squats: Start your workout with two legged squats, feet hip width apart, with no weight. As you up your training, adding weight is a viable option as long as your form and technique stay correct. Jugs of water, rocks, or chunks of firewood all make good weight additions.  To maintain form and avoid injury, make sure that your knees are stacked over your ankles. Start with doing three sets of 10 reps. I usually go down for a count of 2 - 3 seconds and up for the same count.    One-Legged Squats: These are my personal favorite; still a leg strength building exercise, one-legged squats also add a balance component. In order to protect your knees during any squats, I recommend going no deeper than a 90-degree bend in the knee (doing these in front of a mirror when you first start can be beneficial).  Start out with the non-weight bearing leg parallel to the standing leg. As you master this, play around with the position of the leg in the air. It can be in front, out to the side, or back. Now not only are you working on leg strength but you are also working on balance. Work up to 3 reps of 10 on each leg. Depending on your baseline strength you may start with 2 reps of 5 on each leg and then slowly work up.    Again as this gets easier for you, add weights in your hand or try these on grass or sand. All of this will change your balance and the difficulty.    Wall-Sits: Simply sit against a wall with your knees bent at a 90 degree angle like you are sitting in an invisible chair with your back and butt against the wall. This is a real thigh burner. Start by holding this for 30 seconds to a minute and doing two or three sets, shaking your legs out in between. As you get better at this, increase the time you are holding to up to a few minutes. Another way to increase the difficulty is to hold an object straight in front of you, such as a ski boot or climbing boot.    Lunges: With an emphasis on quad-strengthening exercises it is important to incorporate some hamstring-strengthening exercises as well. One suggestion is lunges. The key to these is that they are done slowly; you are building strength as you lower your body weight and raise it again. Make sure that your knees are lined up above your ankles and feet, and do not push your knee beyond your toes. I usually start with my hands on my hips doing 2 to 3 sets of 10 - 15 lunges on each side (20 - 30 total in a set), and alternate which leg is in front. Again, as this becomes easier for you, you can add free weights.    Pull-Ups: These are nice because they can be done anywhere. Not only is it good arm strength exercise, but it also involves the core. Pull-ups can be done with a pull-up or chin-up bar in your house, or at the local playground on the monkey bars. Start out with 2 sets of five. If this is hard for you, have someone hold your knees to assist you after doing a few on your own. You will be amazed how much you will improve just by trying them on your own and then going through the motion with someone assisting you.    Cool-Down: In order to aid recovery for the following days, do a proper cool-down. Spend another 15 minutes on a bike or finish with a light jog to get out some of the lactic acid. Don’t forget that stretching is also an important aspect of the cool-down process.    Listen to your body with any workout.  All of the recommendations of sets are exactly that - recommendations; do what makes sense for you.  Depending on your starting point you may have to start with fewer and work up. That is okay; continue to work on strength exercises and you will see improvements. Set benchmarks and goals for yourself so that you can see the improvements!  Often times the process of seeing yourself improve is all the motivation you need! ______ Lindsay Mann is a senior guide at RMI Expeditions and a NCAA D1 Skiing Champion. She has climbed and guided around the world, from Peru to Alaska. Lindsay is leading a team of female climbers to scale Mt. Rainier on a special Four Day Summit Climb next summer, August 12 - 15, 2014. Questions? Comments? Share your thoughts here on the RMI Blog!