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Marc Hodulich

Take the First Step

By InnerVoice

October 23^rd, 2018

29029 was born

I’m not sure if my hobby became my job or my job became my hobby. Regardless, everything started coming together for me in the fall of 2016. I was training for the Leadville 100 ultramarathon. The race is run on trails and dirt roads in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, so a lot of my training centered on elevation. At the time, a lot of my friends were also training for races, so we’d compare notes on our 15+ mile runs. I’d always ask: How many vertical feet did you get? And most of the responses were “huh?” This was when I started to be intrigued by elevation gain. My runs became focused on time, distance and exploring how many vertical feet I could gain.

During my training, I was also coaching my son’s football team. I needed to be creative with my training schedule to allow myself to keep up with all of my responsibilities, so I’d run to and from practice while my wife would drive our son. One day after practice I started talking with one of the other fathers. His name was Jesse Itzler, and we instantly clicked over our shared passion for endurance events. As I learned more about him, it turned out he was a serial entrepreneur, New York Times bestselling author, motivational speaker, and a part owner of the NBA’s Atlanta Hawks. As our friendship grew, we realized we were both looking to create endurance events that were mentally and physically challenging while providing a soul-searching opportunity for everyone, not just those who train year round.

The culmination of me meeting Jesse, and this idea of elevation gain, was how 29029 was born.

There's no greater height thAn everest

Going uphill is something a lot of people can do, and they can do it very late in life, so we thought there was a sizable demographic that would be interested in 29029. There's no greater height on earth than Mount Everest, so we built the event around getting the vertical height of Everest: 29,029 feet. It’s a weekend retreat combined with an endurance event. To complete the challenge, you have 36 hours to hike the mountain, take the gondola down and repeat as many times as possible. We loved the concept because it is a more inclusive opportunity for a wide range of people to share in the benefits of endurance sport.

Our first event was in the fall of 2017, and we sold it out with two hundred participants. It was a fantastic weekend, we ate all of our meals together, listened to motivational speakers, and climbed the mountain as a community. What Jesse and I feel like we’ve created with 29029 is a community of like-minded people who get to connect through endurance challenges while providing a self-discovery experience. Neither Jesse or I are very good at math, but we found the correct formula: the unknown of being able to complete the challenge + a connection to the outdoors and nature + unrivalled comradery = a worthy addition to your life resume.

It all comes down to communication

One thing I’ve learned from Jesse is that there are certain times where you need to do things for yourself and be selfish. It may sound counterintuitive, but finding time for yourself improves all areas of your life, so everyone benefits. Taking "me time" allows you not to resent time with others, and advances forward all of your relationships and responsibilities. I believe I have a very healthy work-life balance right now, and work certainly is taking precedence over a lot of other things. But you should always have your non-negotiables. For me, my non-negotiable is that every day I need to spend time with my kids, and play. Sure, there are times where travel comes up, or they have after-school activities, or I’m at a business dinner and I don’t get to see them, but I make damn sure the next day I’m in the backyard playing soccer or football or basketball with them. And that might mean working later, or not relaxing with a glass of wine at night, but it’s about trying to find balance and honoring my non-negotiables.

Sometimes in life, you’re going to have times where the pendulum is going to swing really far one way. In training for the Leadville 100, there were a lot of things that got out of balance because I didn’t want to miss time with my kids and I wasn’t going to let my work suffer either. That meant I didn’t get to spend as much time with my wife as I would have liked, or when I was with her, I was tired because I’d run 80 miles that week. After that ended, it was important to recognize her and tell her that I wanted to spend more time with her. And now, the pendulum has shifted the other way. There are certain times where everything’s aligned and humming, but for the most part, I think I’m always trying to tinker with how I can do little bits of everything to keep balance. For those who’ve nailed it and have balance, I aspire to be like them because I tend to do what a lot of people do: optimize for one or two things at a time, and then try to course-correct later on.

I think it all comes down to communication. You have to be able to say “I love you more than ever, and I need a little bit of support right now because I’m feeling really stretched. I’m going to get this goal, and as a result, it’s going to improve all aspects of our lives.” Then, once you achieve that goal, the pendulum swings the other way, and you support the other person the way they’ve supported you. It doesn’t make the problems go away, but the problems don’t get bigger or spiral out of control. It also puts you in a very healthy place to be able to acknowledge that you’re being selfish, but you believe what you’re doing will benefit your family. But, let’s call a spade a spade: you’re doing something for yourself.

The key is acknowledging that.

It was me against me

Before we launched our first event, we had to test it on Brasstown Bald, the highest point in the state of Georgia, with 2,250 feet of vertical gain. And I’m not going to lie, it was a grind. It was a hot day, and the trail was heavily wooded, so we didn’t really know where we were in relation to the mountain. I realized pretty quickly that this wasn’t a physical challenge, my heart rate or aerobic fitness wasn’t going to be the issue; this was a mental challenge. It took us more than 18 hours, and at a certain point, walking the same trail over and over again, I kind of had this out-of-body experience. For me, it became spiritual when I’d reached what felt like insurmountable doubt.

It was me against me.

I’d done an Ironman before, as well as a long list of other races, and I was always focused on my time, other competitors, and all of the things that could go wrong. I was a miler at Auburn University, and I usually knew as soon as the gun went off whether I was going to have a good race or not. If I was in for a bad day, it was an embarrassing next four minutes. But I never had a life-changing moment on the track. On our first trial run up Brasstown Bald, though, I felt like time stood still.

Out there on the mountain, I was able to embrace the struggle like never before. There was a moment when I was thinking about people sitting comfortably on their couch, a glass of wine in hand, watching Netflix. Meanwhile, I’m on a trail in the middle of the night in Georgia with a headlamp that reduces my world to an 8-foot circle of light. What the hell am I doing? And then a small smile formed on my face, which quickly expanded to a shit-eating grin:

I’m healthy enough to be out here. I don’t have to push through this stretch, I get to push through this stretch. It’s going to get better, I’m going to get better. I can do this. Instantly I was consumed with gratitude. I was only ¾ of the way done, and I already felt different.

Leadville 100

When I crossed the finish line at Leadville, holding my boys’ hands, the feeling was indescribable. I want that feeling again and again and again. And I am really grateful that my parents were there at the finish line. Seeing the relief in my mom’s eyes, and how proud my dad was, it was addictive. My dad and I are super close, but when I quit running in college the hardest conversation I had to have was with him because I knew how much joy it brought him to watch me run. I have my own boys now, and I love watching them play sports. I’m just so thankful Dad got to see me take on something so big, and for me to see the joy in his eyes. It made me think there’s so much more I can do to get the most out of myself, not just in sport, but in life.

And while I was running that race, I wanted the finish line so bad. I wasn’t scared to put my goal out there, but I would have done anything to achieve it. Jesse’s nickname is the 100 Mile Man, so I wanted to finish it for him, I wanted to finish for our business, I wanted to finish for my kids. I knew they were there waiting at mile 102, ready to run the last mile with me, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t disappoint them. Going forward, I want to invest in my health and wellness because I want to be there for my kids like they were there for me at the finish line. I feel like I was born with a gift to run, and maybe now I’ve figured out the way in which it’s going to benefit me. It wasn’t to compete in the SEC, or win high school championships or local 5k races; it was to make me a better person.

Just take the first step

We don’t have age group awards or overall winners at 29029. The challenge is you vs you. The environment that we want to foster is that everyone is cheering you on to do more—one more summit than you thought possible. Most people do many more summits that they thought they could and that adversity is where the real growth comes from. We want your internal dialogue to say “I’m done. I’m cooked. I want to give up. It’s cold, and I’m hungry, but I want to do one more pass, and I know everyone out here wants me to do one more.” It becomes emotional because it’s a really supportive community and everyone is really vulnerable together. We’ve been very thoughtful about some of the things that can contribute to that experience for people, like repeating the same trail for every ascent. All you have to do is take the first step up the mountain, because no-one has ever taken one step going up and turned around and walked back down.

It’s a simple process of taking the first step across the timing mat and starting another lap, another summit.

My Leadville experience was perfect timing, because now with 29029, the thing that’s paramount for me is that everyone who comes to our event gets that same moment of exhilaration, of belief, of gratitude that I had. I mean, I didn’t win Leadville, but it’s clear that I came away a different person. That finish line changed me. How do we change the lives of our participants for the better? My favorite stories are of the people who realize they’re not going to hit their goal of 29029, but they stay out there and keep going because there’s still time on the clock. It’s those types of stories that make me think we’ve tapped into something really special. We’ve had former Olympians, former pro athletes, and people who’ve done dozens of Ironmans, but those are the outliers. Those that tackle this challenge are more likely taking spin classes, running a 10k, or doing yoga. The people that come to our event aren’t the same ones that are toeing the line in Kona. It’s a different demographic. It’s really hard, and there are no shortcuts, but it is doable. That’s what makes the red bib so coveted. You only get your red bib when you complete your penultimate climb, and you wear it as you do your final climb to achieve 29,029 feet. Whether my hobby has become my job or my job has become my hobby, it’s surreal to think I now get to greet people at the summit of my own event, where I get to ensure they have the same life-changing moment that the Leadville finish line brought me.

My life is so much fuller.

Footnotes

Words by Marc Hodulich, Photos by Mitch Meyer Photography (@mitchandmorgen) courtesy of 29029, Edited by Cody Royle, Published by Travis McKenzie, Copyright NTSQ Sports Group Inc.

FootNotes

Words by Marc Hodulich, Photos by Mitch Meyer Photography (@mitchandmorgen) courtesy of 29029, Edited by Cody Royle, Published by Travis McKenzie, Copyright NTSQ Sports Group Inc.

Colin O'Brady

Marc Hodulich

Take the First Step

FootNotes

No Human is Limited

I'm Here To Win

The Humble Son

My Incredible Journey

The Most Interesting Man In The World

Season 3