From survived to earned: how I trained for Grays and Torreys

After Pikes Peak, I had a choice. I could file the whole experience under "never again" and go back to lifting in my living room. Or I could figure out what went wrong and fix it.

I fixed it.

What Pikes Peak taught me

My first 14er taught me three things the hard way.

Gym fitness and mountain fitness aren't the same thing. I was in the best shape of my life when I summited Pikes Peak, and it didn't matter. All that muscle training doesn't help when your lungs are running on 60 percent oxygen. The mountain doesn't care about your six-pack.

The descent is where things go wrong. I spent all my energy getting to the top and had nothing left for the 13-mile hike back down. My knees were destroyed. I could barely walk the next morning.

And you can't outrun altitude. A guy my brother and I called Muscles moved fast, got frustrated with our pace, and left us behind. He never summited. Altitude sickness caught him because he didn't give his body time to adjust. We were slow, but we made it. Steady beats fast above 12,000 feet.

So when I started preparing for round two, I threw out everything I thought I knew and started over.

A different kind of training

My old training made me strong in ways that don't translate to mountains. What I needed was the ability to sustain moderate effort for 6 to 8 hours at reduced oxygen. That's an endurance problem, not a strength problem.

I became a runner and a stair stepper.

Running built my aerobic base. I wasn't sprinting or doing intervals, just miles. Long, steady, boring miles that trained my heart and lungs to work for hours. I ran 3 to 4 times a week, building distance over time. The goal was never speed. It was time on feet.

The stair stepper was the closest thing to a mountain I could find in Oklahoma. There are no hills in northwest Oklahoma. The grain elevator is the highest point in town. So I spent hours on the stair stepper at the gym, grinding away at a moderate level, getting my legs used to sustained climbing.

The combination worked because it hit the two things that wrecked me on Pikes Peak. Running built the cardiovascular base I needed to function at altitude. The stair stepper built the specific leg endurance for climbing. Together they prepared me for a 14er in a way that gym workouts never could.

What I changed beyond training

Training was only part of it. After Pikes Peak I started reading about altitude physiology and talking to people who knew what they were doing. Most advice assumed you lived at elevation or grew up scrambling on rocks. Neither described someone from Oklahoma.

I overhauled my gear: lighter pack with the right stuff, proper hiking boots broken in before summit day, moisture-wicking layers instead of cotton, a rain jacket even on clear days, and enough water and real food for a full day.

I changed how I paced. On Pikes Peak, I went as fast as I could and paid for it. For Grays and Torreys, I went slow on purpose. Take breaks before you need them, not after you're already gassed.

I fixed my nutrition. On Pikes Peak, my plan was a granola bar and optimism. This time I ate and drank on a schedule, trail mix every 45 minutes, water every 30, even when I wasn't hungry. At altitude your body burns through fuel faster than your instincts can track. By the time you feel depleted, you're already behind.

And I drove up the night before and slept at altitude instead of driving up from the plains and starting right away. One night isn't perfect acclimatization, but it's a lot better than zero.

Two peaks in one day

I picked Grays Peak and Torreys Peak for my second try. They sit right next to each other, connected by a saddle ridge, and experienced hikers often summit both in one day. Grays is 14,270 feet. Torreys is 14,267 feet.

Two 14ers in one day might sound ambitious for a second go. But I wanted proof. If I could summit two peaks and come down feeling strong, that would mean the training and the gear and the pacing actually worked. One peak could've just been a better day. Two peaks would be proof.

Night and day

It was a different experience in every way.

The stair stepper had done its job. My legs were ready for sustained climbing in a way they never were on Pikes Peak. The running had built a cardiovascular base that let me breathe at altitude without feeling like I was suffocating. I still felt the thin air, because you always do above 12,000 feet, but this time my body could handle it.

I paced myself. Slow, steady steps, letting my breathing settle before pushing harder sections. I wasn't racing anyone and I left my ego at the trailhead. Every time I felt the urge to speed up, I thought about Muscles blowing past us on Pikes Peak and never making the summit.

I summited Grays first, then crossed the saddle ridge to Torreys. Standing on top of the second peak, the feeling had nothing in common with Pikes Peak. On Pikes Peak, the summit was relief. I made it. I survived. On Torreys, it was satisfaction. I'd earned this.

My legs were tired on the descent, but they worked. My knees were sore but not destroyed. I could walk the next morning. The downhill running had prepared my joints for the pounding.

What actually worked

Running built my aerobic base, and nothing else builds the cardio you need at altitude the way long, steady miles do. Weight lifting alone won't get you there. Your heart and lungs need to be efficient, not explosive.

The stair stepper gave me climbing endurance. When you don't live near mountains, it's the next best thing. Hours of sustained stepping at a moderate level builds the specific muscle endurance for the climb. It's boring, but it works.

Eating and drinking on a schedule was the easiest thing to fix and one of the biggest differences. Don't wait until you're hungry or thirsty. At altitude your body burns through fuel and water faster than your instincts track, so set a timer if you have to.

I learned to pace myself. Go slower than you think you should, and then go a little slower than that. You'll pass people on the way up who blew past you at the trailhead, and you'll still have legs left for the descent when they're struggling.

Sleeping at altitude the night before made a noticeable difference. Your body starts adjusting as soon as you get above 7,000 or 8,000 feet, so give it a head start.

What this site is

The gap between Pikes Peak and Grays and Torreys wasn't fitness. I was in better shape from weight training when I climbed Pikes Peak. The gap was preparation: knowing what altitude does to your body, what gear matters, that the descent is where things go wrong, and that steady beats fast.

I didn't need to be stronger. I needed to be smarter.

ZeroTo14k is the program I wish I'd had when I was staring up at Pikes Peak with the wrong boots and a granola bar in my pocket. It's built by a flatlander from Oklahoma who learned mountaineering the hard way. If you're coming from flat ground, or you run and bike but haven't spent time above 5,000 feet, this was made for you.

You don't have to survive your first summit. You can earn it.