Everesting is sport

The idea came to me two years ago. An American cyclist sets off on trails at dawn, climbing one way and descending another. He completes the loop for several hours until he virtually reaches the summit of Everest. I read the summary with my mouth wide open: THAT'S SO COOL! 

I'm thinking about my options. Am I capable of taking on this challenge? Where could I do it? 8,848 meters is a lot! I'll never have time to do it with all the races I'm signed up for! Who will be able to support and encourage me during the day? 

Many questions swirled around in my head for quite some time. This spring, on my way back from a trip to Costa Rica, I made up my mind. "This summer, I'm going to do Everesting!" I looked at my schedule: I don't have any races in June, which is usually a more relaxed time at work, and June 21 is the longest day of the year. I circled the date. GO!

I make a few calls, talk to my girlfriend about it, but not too much to my parents, and the project is launched. I evaluate the different mountains that could be ideal for the challenge. Burke: too steep. Bromont: not high enough. Mont-Sainte-Anne: not far from home, good elevation gain, and good trails for the descent. I map out the route, calculate the possibilities, and start thinking about nothing else. Within a few days, the Mont-Sainte-Anne team accepts my project, and my friends confirm their participation. My project is running smoothly.

It was only the day before the challenge that I truly realized what I had gotten myself into. A 15-hour ride, consisting of 14.5 climbs up the MSA access road and the same number of descents down the Vietnam-Grisante trails. That's when I started to feel stressed! But it was good stress. I've never ridden for 15 hours, and my biggest day of climbing has been 4,000 meters of elevation gain. The problem is that I've told so many people about it, so I can't back out now. It's happening tomorrow! The MSA lets us sleep at the foot of the mountain so we can leave at 5 a.m.

5:15 a.m.: Virtual whistle blow

My buddy David Maltais (Team Gris - Caisse pop acadienne) will be supporting me all day, and my girlfriend Sarah Bergeron-Larouche (Salomon - Xact Nutrition) will be responsible for moral support and cheering me on with cries of "Come on, you can do it, man!" The first climb is easy, the weather is nice and cool, and it's going to be a good day.

6:10 a.m.: First lap completed

I head back to the well, eat a waffle, and set off again without wasting too much time. The trails are muddy, the climb is beautiful, and morale is high. The laps keep piling up.

10 a.m.: First stop

It's time to wash my bike, change my Jersey eat something more substantial than granola bars. I've been riding for five hours already. I've done five climbs. Things are going well. A quick coffee and we're off again.

12:30 p.m.: The first wall

My parents, my sister, and her boyfriend are there, and I'm starting to feel a little woozy. I'm having trouble forming complete sentences, and I wolf down my chicken burger. I'm about halfway through the challenge. I've been riding for seven hours, and I can't see how I'm going to be able to do another seven or eight hours on the bike without exploding or crashing on the trails. I get back in the saddle, no matter what. As Sarah often says, "Math has a screw loose. Once he sets his mind to something, he won't stop until he reaches his goal."

3 p.m.: The second wall

I'm climbing with my friends Jérémy Martin and Nic "TechNic" Letarte. The pace is a little too fast, I can't keep up, and my legs won't move anymore. I'm having trouble getting through a section of the climb, and the easiest option is to collapse on my side. I sit down on the ground. And then I hit a BIG wall. I bury my head in my hands. I feel like giving up. The classic questions run through my head over and over again: "Why am I doing this? I should give up, I have nothing to prove."

After a brief period of hesitation and a banana, I get back on my bike and continue on my way. I have 3.5 climbs left, which is about 4 hours of biking and more than 2,000 meters of elevation gain.

5 p.m.: Second wind

Everyone who races has experienced that feeling of "finishing strong." You can see the finish line, and your body does everything it can to get you there. I still have more than two hours of biking left, but my legs are spinning, I'm not in pain anywhere, and the vibe is really good. Several of my coworkers are there, my friends are at the foot of the mountain, my girlfriend is running with me, and I'm flying. I reach the summit for the last time around 7:30 p.m. I have half a climb left!

8:30 p.m.: Everest

I keep my eyes glued to my GPS and pedal until I reach the 8,848 m elevation gain and the halfway point. FINALLY, I reach the virtual summit of Everest. Surprisingly, there are no lines or oxygen tanks buried under the snow. My girlfriend is there, David is filming everything, and it's a really good moment. I thought I was going to shed a little tear, but I'm completely dry.

When I got back to base camp, I was completely exhausted. Unable to do anything. We packed up our setup and went to McDonald's. 

I was extremely happy to have accomplished my challenge. I discovered new physical and psychological limits. I saw what I was capable of when I convinced myself that I could do it. People often say that the body is well designed, but I think the brain is even better designed, and that it is what allows us to accomplish just about anything. 

Physical failures are rare; it's mainly psychological. As they often say, the body is like a tube of toothpaste: just when you think there's nothing left, there's still more!