It was business as usual when I arrived in Stratton - I’d become used to the pre-event rituals, and was good at dealing with the nerves and energy that came along with them.
But as soon as we started climbing, things felt off.
I felt cold… sure, it was cold outside, but I felt colder than I should have. My heart rate was strangely elevated, not coming down to my normal lows, and the terrain was a muddy, frosty, slippery mess. Each footstep felt like a battle not only for traction, but with my own body.
Stratton was turning into a grit fest far earlier than I expected it to get hard.
Around 9 pm on the first day, partway up my 11th ascent, I started to feel a tightness in my chest.
I can’t breathe.
I was halfway up the mountain, fighting for breath. Not the usual I’m-winded-from-exerting-myself, but an actual struggle just to get any oxygen.
I panicked, ripping off my backpack, my bib, and eventually even my shirt, trying to do everything I could to catch my breath.
The medics pulled me off the mountain, driving me down to the base, and eventually to the hospital. They thought I might be having a heart attack.
Is this how my 2024 season ends?