I want to thank Jeffrey for sharing the following trip report and his photos with all of us. I met Jeffrey through our Facebook Page where I learned that he has reconnected to climbing at age 32 after a diagnosis with type 1 diabetes this past fall (Black Friday 2012). I was immediately inspired when he shared his story with me and how his approach to management and adjustment was all about teamwork, positivity and determination to find a way to get after it. I am excited to be able to share this guest post and content from others like us who are living powerfully with diabetes in the vertical world. (Steve)

Meet Jeffrey: fellow “pancreatic enthusiast” and climber!

Climbing last Sunday (March 3, 2013) was kinda dumb and awesome at the same time. I’ll tell you right away, my partners Jonathan and Jillian are from New England; they are conditioned for the cold. I unfortunately, am not. The weekend’s temps were supposed to be in the mid-40′s. I was already hesitant to climb in the cold and thought I might skip out. Saturday I got their email saying they wanted to check out Safe Harbor, a sport climbing area just outside of Lancaster PA, an hour and a half north of Baltimore. I couldn’t say no and met up with them at 6:30 the next morning. There were flurries as I left my place; so— we’re off to a great start! We get there around 8am, we’re the only ones there, first to arrive. We walk to the crag to find icicles hanging from a good portion of all the blocky overhangs. Jonathan exclaimed that he should have brought his ice ax and crampons for mixed climbing!

Safe Harbor is a section of blasted railroad cut along the Susquehanna River, maybe 300 yards long. Only in 2011 did it officially open up to climbing and the rails were replaced with a gravel hike-n-bike trail. There are about 90 routes approx 70-90ft in height. All routes are bolted, from smooth slabs to sustained overhangs ranging 5.7-5.13. There are a LOT of stout routes. I’m not a power climber by any stretch. I love low angle, thin, technical footwork climbs. Bulges and overhangs always get me, but I’m determined to work on that as I recently purchased a hang board for training at home.

We weren’t even harnessed up yet and already pretty cold. It was probably in the high 20′s factoring in the breeze. Our first route was ‘Econoline’, a 5.8*. A smooth face climb bisected with a grassy ledge two thirds up. A decent warm up but nothing to write home about. Jonathan led it. Jillian and I TR’d it. The next route I led. It was an 8+**, ‘Eminent Domain’. By then my hands and feet were completely numb. I’ll tell you what though, it is INSANE what you’re willing to hold onto and step up on when you can not feel a thing. Talk about trusting your holds. Despite all that, I flashed it. It was a fun route for sure, thin holds, a little dihedral and mantle action at the top. Jonathan pulled the rope and led it himself. Jillian TR’d it and cleaned anchors.

Jonathan leading ‘Eminent Domain’

The third route was Jonathan’s pick. He chose ‘Tonga’ a 9+**. I had previously climbed last fall, but this time I was not as successful. The crux is an awkward bulge between the first and second bolt. Did I fail to mention Jonathan is 6’3″? He reaches right past the toughest move to a key flake (NO FAIR!!) Both Jillian and I flailed and bailed. In our defense, the one slopey foothold to get us to that flake was seeping water and we kept slipping right off. I hate making excuses, so I’ll be gunning for that route on my next visit.

Next Jonathan thought the route right next to him looked fun and he’d give that a whirl, ‘Wild Palms’. He sent it like a champ without knowing its rating. He came down to a surprise when I told him it was a 5.11b*! NoBigDeal! Yeah, I wasn’t even gonna bother with that mess. I’ll be honest, I’m just not there yet.***

So we thought we’d be the only climbers out, but low and behold we saw a few other partys along the cliffs. None of them lasted too long though. A pitch or two and they’d vanish. One couple described the day as, “just south of miserable“; we felt otherwise. We had some lunch and the rest of our coffee and tea. I checked my blood sugar a few times throughout the day. Only once did I feel low, 74. Actually my meter was erroring out cause of its minimum operating temperature; so I had to warm it up in my armpit to use it! As I changed back into my climbing shoes Jillian mentioned that my feet were awfully white. Another good sign….

Despite the frigid temps we were stoked on good climbing and good company, so we pressed on. It was my turn on the sharp end. I chose a slabby 5.7* ‘Pro Bono’ and zipped right up. It was definitely easy, but still fun. Jillian and Jonathan had no trouble with it either. Next Jonathan led ‘Who Shot Bambi’ a 9-* right next to it. That climb was a blast and it was more technical than ‘Eminent Domain’ earlier. The crux was just past a thick overlap, walking up a rising diagonal seam that was no thicker than a quarter’s width. Below the overlap was another great move matching hands in a two finger pocket - so fun! Jillian is still a relatively new to the whole climbing thing, but she kept her cool and made it up. I cleaned the anchors, rapped down, and swung over to booty some one’s leaver-biner. Bonus!

By that time it was around 5pm so we packed up and hiked out, the last ones to leave. We stopped for more coffee on the the ride home. I crashed out in the back seat for half the drive. What a great day! EXCEPT for the dumb part: my right foot still, after four days, has only partial feeling in the big toe due to the cold. Pretty crazy. I’ve given myself plenty of warm foot baths and have been taking ibuprofen. It feels like when novocain starts wear off, but your mouth is kinda tingly numb and hypersensitive at the same time. The affected area is slowly shrinking, and there’s no discoloration or blistering so I doubt I’ll loose my toe or anything. I’m my own experiment and now I know how much cold I can tolerate, or not. Next time I’ll DEFINITELY be bringing those hot hands things for my feet, lesson learned!

This weekend the temps are supposed to be in the high 50s and I have another call out to Jonathan and Jillian for more adventures. They are great climbing partners and all around good people. They get me outta the house while my girlfriend studies for grad school. I’m always thrilled to be tying in with them. Their three rules are: Be safe, Have Fun, and Maintain A Positive Attitude. Pretty simple.

***This past weekend Jeffrey went back out to Safe Harbor with his friends Jonathan and Jillian-he climbed that 5.11a/b route that he was “just not there” on a week ago! Here’s to raising the bar!

This week has been an amalgam of complex emotions. My blood sugar has been “adjusting” to a new exercise regimen, I have some big plans (relatively speaking) in the works that I am thrilled about but can’t really disclose yet, and of course there was the “hopelash” discussion about the DRI’s Biohub announcement.

I have always sought to be honest and real in my posting, above all else-which I know is partly what interests people in reading my rambling monologues (for some odd reason). I also know that I have a tendency to occasionally speak from raw emotion and that such manifestations of honesty aren’t always as clear as they could be. I have spent a lot of time questioning my reaction to the handling of the Biohub announcement because I feel some of my ire in the moment overshadowed the full scope of my position on diabetes research.

I am not a curmudgeon on a witch hunt. I am a skeptic. I choose not to suspend my skepticism when the words “diabetes” and “cure” appear together in the same sentence. However; I do believe that research is important and that it has given us advancements that we (myself included) benefit from every day and so there is no desire on my part to see support for these efforts abandoned. My issue is with invoking the word “cure” into research pledge drives with seeming flippancy. That sort of messaging pushes my buttons-because a cure is the “low probability/high risk investment” of which I ranted in my previous blog.

The fact that research hasn’t yet given us a cure is not my beef. I know that these things take a long time and that we are constantly learning new things, not to mention getting research past the FDA represents a Gordian knot of red tape-and those are perfectly valid reasons for the rate of progression. When those facts are presented without “sugaring the pill”, that is research that I can get behind-not because of likelihood of success (however that is even defined!) but because I respect a realistic, honest approach in the face of grim odds.

My personal focus in my years with diabetes has never been research; cure-related or treatment-related, because that avenue of progress has not spoken to me, on a visceral level. That fact does not mean that I wish to dissuade others who have a different perspective or motivation in the world of diabetes from supporting research that passes their personal “sniff test”. It doesn’t mean that I consider research to be trivial or unimportant. It simply means that I feel moved in other directions that are less visible to the public and so I have focused the majority of my energies accordingly-and I make no apology for that.

I absolutely believe that while research is one important avenue of progress, it doesn’t (and shouldn’t) represent the whole map to improving life with diabetes. There are so many great things that I have gotten to witness and write about over the last year; programs that help people and change lives here and now-and people and organizations that deserve to be recognized right alongside research because of their impact. To be clear I am not nominating myself or Project365 for inclusion in that category. There are many others I have rubbed elbows with over this past year who motivate that preceding statement.

I have personally been denounced and reviled (sometimes in very colorful terms) for even trying to make my mark in that same arena by doing something that isn’t cure-research related. Seeing people hate you for things they can’t really understand, well it hurts, even if “they don’t matter”. So yeah, the whole cure terminology touches a nerve for me, but I have honestly tried (and I am constantly striving) to make sure that I don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater, and sometimes that objective is harder to meet than others!

I do want to see a complete picture of “getting involved in diabetes” presented to the world and I don’t want to crusade for anything other than people making their own, well informed choices and being positive about and active life with diabetes.

Anything you would’ve done differently over the year?

Hindsight is 20/20, so there are many things I would do differently. However, I don’t regret any of the decisions I made in regards to the project. This may seem like a negligible distinction but I feel like it is significant. I went into Project 365 expecting to have strikes and gutters-wins and losses. Going back to settle some of the scores of the “losses” would be satisfying on some level but I really feel like the big picture needed to include the struggle and failure.

In responding to this question, I have just written and deleted several things I would have done differently. I really cant see myself doing things any different way! Sometimes I think that I should have shot more photos and video and climbed harder and left the blogging as an afterthought-but if I had done that, I might have missed out on connecting with some amazing people and opportunities. I feel like I could have prepared more in terms of getting sponsors for the project-but if we had everything all locked up beforehand, that would have killed a large part of the story!

A few definite things that I would have done differently though:

• Use Instagram more! Pictures are worth so much more than words-especially when you are in picturesque locations
• Spend more time in Yosemite: I got in over my head in the valley and while it was good to test the waters, I could have had a more productive time there if I had gotten my feet wet on smaller objectives before diving in!
• Spend more time in the Bugaboos with Martin and his family: Logistics limited us in British Columbia time-wise, but the few days we had there unquestionably changed my life.
• Should have laid out the money for a full frame sensor camera from the get go. Having recently upgraded to the Nikon D600, I now see that I had been rubbing sticks together instead of using a zippo!
• Should have gotten an iPhone from beginning too. That dramatically increased my ability to keep social media channels updated without having to get stuck behind a computer.

Plans to do something like this again?

Yes. Unquestionably. I have done many multi-month road trips with Stefanie over the preceding years and so Project 365 was more of a culmination of previous efforts than a “new” thing. Through the course of the project I had a chance to meet some amazing T1D climbers, and moving forward I want to take on bigger objectives with them.

I don’t foresee another 365 consecutive day climbing challenge because of the logistics and cost-however I will put this out there (sort of kidding, but also not entirely) that if the funding and logistic support were in place, I would do it again and try to break the 79,000 feet climbed.

My vision is more towards harder, wilder, more remote climbing objectives with other T1s. A few examples of what are in my mind: Patagonia, Yukon Territory, Baffin Island, Greenland, Bugaboos, Himalaya. There is also a great deal of amazing climbing to share as inspiration to the diabetes community in the US too-for me this is a way of life so it never truly stops.

Your favorite day/climb??

Ok, I have to cop out here and say that I can’t select one day or climb. I can try to do a top 5 list:

• Pigeon Spire with Martin
• Day 365 sending my hardest route with Jason
• World Diabetes Day at Roche headquarters in IN
• Day 298 I sent 4 hard boulder problems in the Gunks in NY that had crushed me in the past
• My 30th birthday- almost got struck by lightning but it was awesome!

Climbing is pretty exciting. So was Project 365. Now I am working on the documentary about the past year called “In the blood”. I think that it will be exciting-or at least engaging once it’s finished. For now though it’s honestly pretty low key. Wading through hours of footage shot without a script or direction, trying to work backwards and put the pieces back together in some semblance of what I experienced.

I am basically reliving the experience-and this process which will take at least several months of steady work, makes me itch to run off to the mountains again. But I am also enjoying the change of pace. It’s very easy to look forward so much that we never get the chance to “digest” our recent past-in a healthy way, not in an “emotional baggage” way…

So as I am sorting through footage and adding photo galleries to the homepage I am in an unusual position: I don’t have a glut of amazing new photos to blog about or a crisis of sorts to share. I am becalmed in a sea of…dare I say…normalcy?

I have been experimenting with new Dexcom sensor placements-I departed from the back of the arm in search of deeper fatty tissue. I decided to try my upper buttock because the sensor would sit below the harness waist belt and above the leg loops. I know the abdomen is the only area approved by the FDA…but until they send the black helicopters to get me for improper sensor location, I am going to find a way, dammit, to wear that sensor in such a way that I can climb at my limit.

To make a long story excruciating, I am not thrilled with the performance of this location although it’s easy to install and seems to be super low maintenance. I have been getting readings all over the map. It’s honestly kind of distracting to be told by this little device that usually is right on the money, that my sugar is 39…when I am driving on the highway and feeling right as rain, with no fast-acting insulin on board!

It has, however, given me a chance to reignite a love affair with my meter. Its funny how I test my blood more now when I am wearing my Dexcom than I would if I were “flying blind”. All told though, it’s exciting to do research on my diabetes and keep fine tuning the system! I know that when I am using the Dexcom outside the recommended sensor sites that I am venturing into murky waters-and so that is some adventure to add to the mix!

Of course I don’t want you all to think that my life is all desk work and computer slavery. I am keeping my list of projects close to home-Zion has no shortage of amazing climbing routes that will challenge and humble me. You may remember this unclimbed boulder problem that I blogged about last week-as well as plenty of bigwall routes. I am hoping to repeat moonlight buttress again this spring and tick off a few other big climbs. They are close to home so I can get after it without having to take much time away from finishing the documentary!

I am hoping to shoot some video on my boulder problem at some point…in the next month or two and share that with you all. I need to get a little further and work out the moves though-at this point it’s all pretty rough! Also my next blog post will address some of the questions I received at the conclusion of Project 365 so stay tuned!

The last several weeks have been filled with something I am not accustomed to: waiting. Waiting for the computer to show up. Waiting to download Final Cut Pro to begin editing (it’s not a snap on 256k data speeds!) and most of all waiting to really have a clear vision for making this documentary.

Climbing is something familiar to me. I recognize the dangers and the terrain. This helped me through the project and in many ways, I never doubted that I could go the distance physically. Now I am facing a challenge that has a much less certain outcome!

I have returned to training for future climbing endeavors and I am also preparing for the SoCal Ragnar relay event with the Insulindependence Team. It’s an honor to be joining these folks who are all accomplished runners-and I am WAY outside of my comfort zone in the scope of distance running.

Time spent recently hanging out with the Insulindependence crew and checking out some local surfing!

I am looking forward to these processes that each have placed me squarely outside of my comfort zone in the Vertical world. That’s what I’ve been preaching, so now I have to embrace that mantra of challenge in all it’s manifestations. I will get my ass handed to me as I train-and I will find value in that process!

I have gotten to spend more time with the Insulindependence community due to the upcoming race and this has led to my thinking about how I can better fit into serving the Diabetes community to really empower people rather than just blog about it. Talk is cheap. So is blog content. Willingness to flail, that’s where all the claptrap begins to take on meaning.

Speaking of flailing, this is my new project, a 5.12 offwidth boulder problem. Got cut down to size this weekend after getting back to Utah!

Rob taking a spin on the new rig-hand stacks and knee jams. This is climbing, this is war!

I have begun to see that my thinking about all of the aforementioned issues has been limited. Very “in-the-box”. From feeling attached to a very specific type of documentary style for no good reason to thinking of climbing training as pulling down and going up rather than looking at the benefits of cross training and building my weaknesses!

This is a significant moment because I have an opportunity to recognize that things don’t “have to” be any given way. We can build our own construct. Try something different. Push my limits-not in order to find another comfort zone but rather to find greater strength and perspective to keep pushing.

Palm tree at Long Beach airport where I spent many happy hours this past weekend!

In the coming weeks I will be seeking the uphill path. I will be frazzled and at times discouraged. But if there’s one thing that diabetes has taught me to accept the failures as part of the context and framework necessary for triumph to exist.

Happy Monday friends; lets not wait or make excuses to buy time. The easy way always leads down and the little things we do, moment to moment add up!