I’m sick of sweating on myself in my basement—using football, sports talk TV or even Friends reruns to distract me from the slowly moving clock. Winter training is beneficial, but boring. With my three-wheeler on a trainer, essentially turning it into a stationary arm-pedal bike, I ride at a higher cadence than climbing mountains. A higher cadence, if my muscles can adapt, could mean higher speed when I get back outside, but right now I just want to forget that spot on my chest that hurts so much. When I’m outside I constantly shift my chest on the chest pad to steer. There’s no steering on the trainer. The chest pad bores into my sternum. There’s nothing I can do except try to ignore it. Pain meditation, that’s what Dave Penney, my expedition manager calls it.

He should know. To prepare to guide trips in Nepal he’ll run three 14ers in a day, sleeping on the top of the final one to maximize altitude adjustment. On my birthday in September, Dave ran for seven hours, joined the party, and then outlasted pretty much everyone at dinner. During the winter in his hometown of Crested Butte, Colorado, he routinely cross-country skis after he puts his five and nine year old children to bed. By that time of the night I am usually excited to be warm and dry in my house, not sweating and freezing all at the same time in the dark and the cold.

For a long time Dave has talked about “taking a run at the White Rim Trail.” On our long hikes this past summer, he’s often mused about doing it in a day—105 miles in one day. I’ve only done one century in my life and that was on road and when I could still pedal with my legs. One day is crazy, but Dave’s ability to dream separates him, especially since he routinely makes most people’s impossible possible. It shouldn’t have surprised me a couple of nights ago when Dave said, “Let’s do the White Rim Trail.” It’s my fault. I said that I wanted to do a bunch of 4-6 hour days on our next Moab trip—starting tomorrow. “We could go for the record,” he said.

I knew that Mark Wellman, Steve Ackerman and Bob Vogel, great athletes all, had captured their epic White Rim ride for Mark’s film Crank it up! The White Rim Adventure. Immediately after hanging up with Dave I Googled the trio. They’d ridden the entire 105 miles on their own using the same One-Off three-wheeler that I had on my trainer. At times, they had dismounted their rigs, scooted along on the ground trailing the rig behind them over the loose, difficult terrain. Other times, one, higher on the trail, would rope assist the others. Reading about it, I marveled at their trip. I’ve pulled my three-wheeler behind me and I can tell you that it’s a dirty, frustrating job. I got nowhere fast. The trio’s trip took six days. That’s the record: six days. With the benefit of our new vehicle, Dave and I thought we might be able do it in three. I have no idea if that’s even realistic, but it’s the all the time we have. It’s just a thought and a hope, but it’s enough to get me excited—that and getting out of my basement.

Snow in Moab prompted us to consider the White Rim Trail for our next training session, but it might be our undoing too. If there’s too much we won’t even get a realistic shot, but I’m excited to try. We’ll start on Monday morning, sleep in Dave’s camper Monday and Tuesday nights, and hopefully finish Wednesday. According to the weather report, temperatures should range from 9-43 degrees. We’ll ride for six hours or more a day. I look forward to getting outside. Somehow, I think Dave looks forward to my pain meditation opportunities. He’s toughening me up for the mountain.

I plan to report from the White Rim, so please check in daily.