…is not quite what you’re going to find here.  But I liked the way it sounded.

I’ve been projecting non-sense into the Interspace for quite some time now.  Never have I ever wrestled with a post in my head for quite so long.  Instead of trying to say everything, this post will serve as an introduction for what shall soon ensue.

Over the last few months, I’ve developed an unhealthy obsession with health.  And I don’t mean the casually perusing Yahoo!’s “7 super foods for a summer 6 pack” variety.  I mean spending weekend afternoons learning the history of how the food pyramid was born (Good Calories, Bad Calories – read it), falling asleep to various “Paleo diet” podcasts, and waking up to 90-minute keynotes on why sugar is a delicious poison.  It began solely as means to cure my ills, and has developed into a full fledged knowledge boner-orama.

For those who know me personally, they would attest as to just how far off the deep end I’ve gone.  A conversation about Wisconsin basketball can, and will, be twisted into a rant about methylation (a word not present in Zach’s diction 6 weeks ago). I tend to get obsessive when confronted with a new topic of interest, and I am currently traveling at the speed of sound down this rabbit hole, but also realize I’ve only scratched the surface.

All that said, what I have learned, and what you already likely already believe about health, is that it’s both confusing and over-simplified, inconsistent and dogmatic.  The perfect diet is different for everyone, has many more inputs than just diet and exercise, and can change over time.  One health guru promotes a raw vegan diet, the other says steak and eggs, and both have granite abs (proof one, proof two).   Your 85 year old grandfather plays golf 4 times a week, landscapes his yard, makes frequent, awkward, wrinkly love to your grandma (sorry for the imagery), all the while eating a pound of bacon for breakfast and drinking three martinis every night.  Pappy is breaking all the health rules, yet somehow still totally HAM (Healthy As a Motherfucker).

It is this confusion that causes people to gravitate back toward conventional wisdom.  If there’s dissension on what to believe, the power in numbers becomes the most compelling piece of evidence.

Conventional Wisdom

Calories in, calories out.  One hour of cardio five times per week.  Eat mostly fruit, vegetables, and whole grains.  Avoid fat (especially saturated), sodium, and cholesterol.  That’s the recipe for good health, according to conventional wisdom.  However, through personal experimentation, I’ve come to learn that it’s an utter fucking lie, at least for me, and probably for  a larger portion of the population than we have been lead to believe.

If there’s one thing to take away from any proposed health ideology, it’s that even the best ideas are only concepts until tested.  It becomes a truth only when applied (and consequently, benefited).

Saying that [food X] is good/bad, is totally missing the point.   There are certain foods that tend to be good or bad for larger portions of the population. There are different qualities of the same food that have different reactions in the same body (grass fed beef from quality-controlled local farms vs. grain fed industrial beef factories).  Even spinach, something universally regarded as a “superfood“, can have a detrimental effect on certain individual’s health (if that person is especially histamine sensitive).  I’m not saying that spinach is unhealthy*- I consume spinach at a rate that would make Popeye blush.  The point is, when it comes to nutrition, dogma doesn’t work.

* = Editor’s note: I received the following note from my mom in an e-mail, “And by the way, food isn’t ‘healthy’  it’s ‘healthful.’  Healthy food would be a leaf of spinach running a marathon or doing push-ups.“  Maybe my spinach can do pushups, mom.

On Health

In my previous post, I announced to the world (i.e. the 16 people who read this) that the natural state of my brain was microwaved garbage.  For those who are curious, I feel substantially better today.  Although I haven’t conquered the title of “superhuman health” (still a ways to go in fact), my energy, mood, and clarity of thought are at their best since contracting West Nile virus.  At times, these markers (albeit qualitative and subjective) are better than ever.  Although other lifestyle changes have played a role, nutrition is undoubtedly a (maybe the) driving force.

And quite honestly, saying that I feel better is putting it lightly.  For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I’ve regained control of my life.  Even as of the writing of the previous post, I wasn’t fully aware of how bad my situation was.  Only through the contrast of clearing the fog and relieving the constant tension can I fully appreciate how awful it was.

I have a premonition- considering the current state of the western diet and lifestyle- that an alarming number of people go through life this way.  Not necessarily suffering to the extent that I was, but merely surviving instead of thriving. 

This isn’t a result of a lack of willpower or a defeatist attitude (although both play a role).  This is the result of bad information (see: conventional wisdom). 

We deserve better.

Cerebal Recalibration

Here’s the eleventy billion dollar question: How?  How was I able to fix a dilapidated brain?

That’s a two part answer.

1) Like I said, I’m not “there” yet, where ever there might be.  I’ve spent the last three months in an obsessive state of self-experimentation, research, and fine-tuning; I continue to refine.  Also, I’m human.  There are setbacks (which is code for whiskey).

2) What has worked has been largely unconventional.  The articles that will follow over the coming days, weeks, months (who knows?) will offer the full platter of unorthodox health tactics that have dug me out of the proverbial sewer.

Below is a box.  In that box is an area where you can input your e-mail address.  If you’re interested taking a trip down this rabbit hole with me, simply fill this box with the appropriate information (no, I don’t mean this).

Remember wayyyyyy back in February when I moved to San Francisco to embark in a new chapter of my existence?  Well much like the construct of Appalachian Trials, this chapter was pithy.  And now, like my favorite movie starring a golden retriever, I’m Homeward Bound (sorry Air Bud).

In many ways, the past nine months has been the most exciting, fulfilling, and surreal period of my life.  I published a book.  People didn’t hate it (including one of my idols).  I’ve crossed public speaking off the “gives violent diarrhea” list, and instead added it to the “am moderately comfortable” file.  Hell, I got to give a half hour Appalachian Trail presentation in front of Tony Hsieh (the CEO of Zappos & billionaire mastermind behind a massive rebuilding of Downtown Las Vegas).

I had the privilege of entrenching myself in a city brimming with culture, technology, ubiquitous intelligence, and world class restaurants.  And my personal favorite, I got to live in an area of the country whose beauty is second to none.  Northern California is hands down the best backpacking country I’ve ever been exposed to; Yosemite, Emigrant Wilderness, Big Sur, Big Basin, Mt. Tam State Park, John Muir Woods, Salt Point State Park….you are immaculate (AT still has a monopoly on my heart-space however).

All this being said, 2012 has been, by far and away the most challenging year of my life.  The sole cause being my health.

As you may already know, while on the AT I contracted a rare (although increasingly more common) mosquito borne illness – West Nile virus.  During this time, I battled intense headaches, blurred vision, confusion, fatigue, and irritability [less commonly known as FYFNRS (fuck you for no reason syndrome)].  I wrestled with these symptoms on and off for the better part of the last 1,000 miles.  Although not ideal, I was comforted with the idea of resting and healing upon reaching trail’s end.

That didn’t happen.

Although the symptoms are less intense, they still persist.  Some weeks, I’m a normal dude with good health.  Other weeks, there’s non-stop tension in my brain.  In these instances, I genuinely am not myself; the “Zach Davis” part of my brain is rust-ridden.  There are days where I have to fight to get out of bed after 10-11 hours of sleep.  I regularly avoid social activity out of fear of being too far from a comfortable area where I can lay down and meditate/sleep the discomfort away.  This has been going on for more than a year with little reprieve, it’s taking a serious toll on my quality of life.

This is not a woe-is-me Tumblr-rant.  Instead, this marks the beginning of a tremendous opportunity.

“Challenges are opportunities for growth 

I could’ve just as easily entitled this section ‘everything happens for a reason,’ but there is often a loss for what that reason might be.  In my opinion, this frame of mind more clearly highlights the opportunity that can result from your obstacles.  For me, this point was the single most important strategy in overcoming challenges.  I want to emphasize this point.  This isn’t a tactic only for enjoying yourself on the Appalachian Trail.  This is a tactic for making life your bitch. 

…

Remember the obstacles in front of you are there for a reason.  This is your test.  This is your opportunity for growth.”

As you probably guessed, this is an excerpt from Appalachian Trials.  I reference it not because it’s the most ego-centric thing possible (is it?), but instead to demonstrate that I’m putting my money where my fingers hit the keys.  This is my next opportunity for growth.

And I don’t want to come off as some positively charged robot.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  For the last few months, I’ve felt sorry for myself.  It’s easy to do.  There were a shit-ton of questions- and no answers.  “Why?  Why the fuck?  Why the fuck won’t this stop?  What’s the most sadistic way to mass murder mosquitoes? Why are there two American Idol’s? Etc.”

In other words, I was asking the wrong questions. I have now settled on the three that matter:

1) What do I need to do to fix this? 

2) How can I not only stop the symptoms and improve my health, but reach new heights of physical and mental performance?

3) How can I impart this wisdom to benefit others?

I have other questions, such as: is West Nile virus even the cause?  A visit to an infectious disease specialist in July revealed that I have been harboring giardiasis in my gut for a long while- likely since the Trail.  Some anti-biotics took care of the parasite, but alas, not the headaches.  This opened new doors in my mind.  The literature on WNV is thin, and after much research, I have added to the list of theories as to what’s happening.  But that’s neither here nor there…  What matters is that I’m determined not only to improve, but to ultimately use this as a catalyst to reach peak performance.

In 2010, this website dealt with important matters ranging from cat infographics to videos featuring cats.  In 2011, it was about a 2,181 mile footpath. Although the subject matter changed, it was consistently a peek inside the chaos that is my brain.

What I’m trying to say is: the Good Badger is about to take a trip down the rabbit hole of super-human health.  I hope you’ll join. 

Last Wednesday, August 22, marked my one year anniversary of thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. 

In it of itself, that is maybe worthy of a Facebook status.  This post is dedicated to reflecting on where my life, or more accurately, my mindset, has since gone.

I’m Back

When Michael Jordan made this proclamation in 1995, it was without question the two sweetest words any Chicago Bulls fan could possibly hear (and equally as bitter for the other 29 teams – suck it Karl Malone/Patrick Ewing/Reggie Miller/Shawn Kemp).

When I say I’m back, I mean it in the – holy fuck what kind of routine have I fallen into – sort of way.  When I say I’m back, I mean I’m back to working 60+ hour weeks.  I’m back to living in my inbox.  I’m back to sweating the bullshit – the same person who actively acknowledged that everything is the bullshit.

I knew I wanted to write this post – although I hadn’t a clue about which direction to take it (disclosure: that’s my usual formula).  Just before I sat down to open up the faucet of thoughts, my earbuds (which were attached to my iPhone) snagged onto my belt and subsequently yanked my phone onto my bedroom’s hardwood floor and smashed the screen into 100 pieces.  This was after a full day of mundane, administrative tasks and thankless chores (commonly referred to as “headaches”).  Needless to say, if there was a face within arm’s reach, it would have been punched.  The shattered iFriend coupled with the carousel of task oriented thoughts began pushing my internal PSI near the “WE’LL DO IT LIVE” meltdown zone.

It then occurred to me, if you were to take a Polaroid of the August 22, 2012 Zach Davis and contrast it to the 2011 version, it’s clear that much has changed, and I’m not just referring to the majestic fire beard.  The serene, unshakable, and eternally optimistic Badger has been replaced with his easily annoyed twin.

The trail hasn’t bestowed me with the gift of unconditional and unwavering joy.  But it has offered me a worthy consolation: perspective.

When confronted with a challenging day, the pre-trail Good Badger believed that life’s events were out to get him, or at the very least, were unfolding unfavorably.  Like magnets, bad events would seem to attract one another until I was a moving manifestation of Murphy’s Law.  The mental radio was playing 40 stations at once, gradually building into a cacophony of angry static.  And that angry static was the medium through which life was observed.

Today the angry static still has a way of finding this radio, but unlike before, I’ve located the “off” switch.  I’ve learned that life isn’t the DJ; I’m the one laying down the tracks.  And the only way to change the song is to stop singing along, but instead listen objectively.  The space between the radio and the radiohead is the happy medium.

To un-radio-metaphor the above: life doesn’t cause your unhappiness, you do.  My iPhone shattered and immediately my internal monolog responded with, “FFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKK WHY FUCK SHIT FUCK NO SHIT NO FUCK WHY”.  After the mini-internal tantrum, however, I was able to remind myself, that 1) it’s not my health (other than perhaps a slight myocardial infarction) 2) it’s not the health of a loved one, and 3) I HAVE AN IPHONE TO BREAK.  The screen on my pocket laptop is now a little harder to read.  They’re called White People Problems because they’re not real problems.  Nobody should feel bad about my smashed iPhone display, myself included.

The moral of the story is that my greatest take away from the trail – that real happiness is a mindset, not a set of conditions – is occasionally forgotten.  I still get pulled into my own bullshit factory.  But unlike before, I now have the road-map to find my way out.  And although it may take a bit to discover that I’ve strayed, this GPS is shatter-proof.

——–

Sidenote: I will be speaking at the REI in Charlotte, NC next week.  If you can, come say hello.

I ran out of un’s.  If I missed any, feel free to throw them in the comment rectangle at the bottom of this weblog.

BUT THIS POST IS MUCH BIGGER THAN UNS.  This post is about REI, YOU & ME. 

If you live in the Bay Area, you have the rare opportunity to see the Good Badger in front of a projector screen, taking you inside the mind of a thru-hiker, talking about running away from serial killers, and of course, showcasing the half-year evolution of a ManBeard.

I can't make this stuff up. Well I can. But I'm not.

Here are some relevant details:

When: Tuesday, August 7th; 7:00 – 8:30pm.  The talk is 60 minutes.  The Q&A is 30, or until someone forces me to go home.  I will warn you, I’m very strong.

Where:  REI – Saratoga. 400 El Paseo de Saratoga, San Jose, CA 95130.  They call it Saratoga’s REI.  The address is San Jose.  Your guess is as good as mine.

What:  This is the description REI is using:

“In March 2011, Zach Davis set out from Springer Mountain, Georgia, to hike the length of the Appalachian Trail-2,181 miles to Mount Katahdin, Maine; he’d never backpacked before. Tonight, Zach will share his perspectives on making a successful thru-hike, including highlights from his new book, “Appalachian Trials-A Psychological and Emotional Guide to Successfully Thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail”. As Zach shows images of his journey northward through the spectacular wilderness lands of the East Coast states-Great Smoky Mountain and Shenandoah National Parks, White Mountain National Forest, and more, he’ll discuss the nuts and bolts of gearing up for an adventure of this magnitude, as well as the remarkable impact of the trail on the body and the spirit. If you register for this free presentation at www.rei.com/stores, we will hold a seat for you until the scheduled start time. Seating may be available at the door, even if registration is closed.”

Here’s my description:  Do you want to know what it’s like to walk ~2,200 miles without actually having to doing it?  Ok, come to the talk.

Why: Because you’ll surely get your money’s worth.

Cost:  Free.

If you know someone who lives in the Bay Area who enjoys doing things, can you please pass this along?  Have them tell me you sent them, and I will give them an uncomfortable bear hug in front of everyone.

Also important, if you do plan on going, you must register for the event.  Not only does this get the planner person off my case, but it ensures that they save you a seat.  Win, win.

[SIGN UP HERE]

Also, I’ll be selling some copies of Appalachian Trials (at a discount), followed by my scribbling in your book upon request.

I think that’s all the relevant information.

Truly yours,

Zach

I recently received the below e-mail…

(the names have been changed to protect the innocent- but mostly to make myself laugh)

“Hey Zach,

My name is Cletus Chud and I am a friend of Russel Rambcastle.

I spoke with Russel about how I am not really satisfied with my current job. I’m a sales rep for a company that sells paver stones to Home Depot in the Greater Atlanta Area.

I have always had a strong passion for social media. I feel that I have a good understanding of how it works and can benefit a business. My goal is to eventually quit my current job and begin by freelancing social media platforms for small businesses and work my way from there.

I checked out your websites and was extremely impressed with what I read and the video I watched about your book, “Appalachian Trials.”

I am a huge fan of Tim Ferriss and read his book “The 4-Hour Workweek.” I also noticed that he recommends your book and that you have interviewed him for Tech Cocktail! You and Tim Ferriss seem to have very similar personalities and lifestyles which is awesome.

I would be thrilled if you could give me any advice on my passion for social media and turning it in to a job. I feel like I am on the right track and just need to make the move. I look forward to hearing from you.

Best regards,

Cletus”

Because this is not the first time I have been asked this question, I figured it might benefit others to share my response publicly.

A couple of notes:

1. Responding to personal e-mail is typically the last thing I do prior to falling asleep.  In other words, they can be a tad unorganized and occasionally nonsensical (AKA totally consistent with my other writing).  The below is no exception.
2. The vast, vast, vast majority of those who claim to be social media experts make snake oil salesmen look like brain surgeons.  I claim no such expertise.  I just have a fair understanding of human behavior and how the platforms are operated.  Take my advice at face value.

“Hey Cletus,

When it comes to getting a job in social media, there are more or less two aspects to focus on: your network and your social network.  Although it seems like there should be a lot of overlap between the two, this is not always the case (but if you’re good, it will be).

1.  Your network

Quite simply the most important asset in your professional career is your network, which is the fancy way of saying, people you’ve shared an adult beverage with.

My first social media contract was from the referral of guy I interned for during my last year of college.  The amount of social media work I did for his startup was somewhere between very little and zero (mostly because “social media” hadn’t yet entered into the business lexicon – it was only Facebook).

I was recommended for the job because:

1. The person was confident in my MQ (marketing quotient – that’s the first time I’ve ever used that, don’t repeat it because I’m getting it trademarked as soon as I send this e-mail), and more importantly
2. He knew me.  They wanted to hire someone local.  I was likely the only person he knew to recommend in the area (we went to school in Wisconsin, the job was in San Diego).  It just so happened that the work I had done for his startup was good enough for his recommendation to not be built on a foundation of poop.  Doing your job well should go without saying.

Now that I work in the slightly more grown up tech community, I still see the same pattern transpire.  People hire and recommend people that they know.  Building relationships with people is really important, and if done the right way, can be fun.  If you’re looking to get into social media (tech), start going to every single tech networking event you possibly can.  Shake hands.  Kiss babies.  Don’t worry about selling yourself, it’s more important for people to like you.

After meeting people, follow up with them.  Send an e-mail.  Follow on Twitter.  Friend on Facebook.  [Insert 21st century verb] on [insert social media platform].  If you had an especially thought provoking or valuable conversation with someone, take it up a notch.  Send them a letter.  Send them that book or DVD that you were referencing.

After the initial contact is where so many relationships die.  By going above and beyond what the other 99% do, you’ll live in their brains forever.  Or at least for another few months, which in the our ADHD generation, is way better than most.

A few months ago, I was interviewing the creator of an iPhone app for my job.  After publishing her article, she followed up by sending me a box of cookies, frosted with her brand’s logo.  She has since become a legitimate friend of mine.  That’s how shit gets done – and can be a lot of fun in the process.

2. Your social network

Hiring someone for a sales job who has sales experience is a fairly straight forward task.  If you put up numbers, you’re good at sales.  If you didn’t, you aren’t.  In most cases, it’s that simple.

In a lot of ways, the same can be said for social media.  Do a noticeable amount of people pay attention and respond to what you say online?  If yes, you’re good at social media.  If no, you’re not (at least in the eyes of an employer – it’s very possible you have a great grasp on theory, but no one will know until you put it into practice).

If you’re looking to get a social media job, show employers that you’re good at social media.  Entire books have been written on the subject.  Some are good.  Most are quite bad.  Here’s a firestorm of my thoughts:

There is no right or wrong way to do social media.  The vast, vast, vast, vast majority of social media advice you will ever read can be broken down into a few simple tips:

1. Share good content
2. Add value to someone’s day when given the opportunity
3. Follow and interact with those who are influential within your network.

That’s generally sound advice, except for one thing: EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN PERSON DOES THE SAME GODDAMN SHIT.  The best advice I can give you is to think for yourself.  What is a unique trait about your personality that makes people like you?  Reflect that online.

Matthew Inman, the brains behind one of my favorite all time websites The Oatmeal, has 300K followers on Twitter and 650K Facebook Likes.  His social media presence is what you would call extremely fucking influential.  He also follows exactly zero of the traditional “social media rules”.  If someone says something slightly confrontational to him, instead of playing it off, or even trying to spin it into a neutral light (as many others will do), he will attack you (not all of the time, but often enough).

Inman is influential on social media because he’s good at life – in case you’re not familiar, he’s a cartoonist with a very popular website and book.  That’s the single most important key to being good at social media.  Be really, really, really, really good at what you do off of social media.  The top 5 Twitter accounts by followers: Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Katy Perry, Rihanna, and Brittany Spears.  Although you may be thinking “but Zach, none of the people you just listed are even remotely good at music except for Rihanna – and a couple of Lady Gaga’s jams are kinda catchy if you’re drunk,” you’re right, but enough people believe them to be good enough at their craft for our opinions to not matter.

From your standpoint, the best way to be good at life will most likely be a combination of growing your personal network (point #1) and having a website (or use a curation commentary service like Scoop.it) where you can further demonstrate your expertise (or passion/conversation fostering/etc).  Understanding the basic principles of how to use these platforms is fundamental, but likely isn’t going to be enough to stand out.  My best advice is to start consuming as much information on the topic of social media / marketing / pr / psychology as possible, and share your thoughts in whatever venue or format you feel most comfortable in.  But don’t lose your personality in the process.  There are too many sheep in the social media world.  It’s not necessary. 

This e-mail is a tangential stream-of-consciousness rant.  I’m sure I forgot a lot.  That’s the best I can do at 11pm.  Consume this.  Let it stew in your brain for a bit.  Apply the principles that resonate.  And let me know if you’ve had any success.

Also don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.  I’m not always fast to respond, but I respond.

Best of luck to you,

Zammersamples”

Okay maybe changing my name was a tad excessive, especially considering it’s built into the URL.  But who in their right mind wouldn’t take career advice from a guy named Zammersamples?

I’d like to make one addendum.  People only ever started paying attention to this site the minute I stopped trying and instead just let my natural moron roam freely.  Let your natural moron roam freely.  We balance out the droids.

With a cabin full of hugs,

Zachary

Last month, I, along with a trio of friends, hiked the continental United States’ tallest mountain – Mt. Whitney.  Maxing out at an elevation of 14,508 ft, this 22-mile round trip trek is considered one of the most difficult day hikes in the entire country. I am proud to report that our attempt was a success.

So how long did it take us to summit?

Well, we didn’t.

This is where the truck is backed up…

Friday, May 11, 2012

7:10pm

After a quick eight-hour drive from San Francisco, I arrive at our home base at the Mt. Whitney campground. I quickly locate our tent site amongst more than 30 others as my former San Diego Padres colleague, Eddie, is eagerly flagging my black Civic down from afar. I get out, we exchange the dude-handshake, transition half-hug that is customary amongst the Sportscenter population.

Chris comes running up to my car, eyes fixated to the sky above him, tracking down the football tossed by Beau 20 yards downhill. He hauls in the pass and in the same motion walks up to my car. “Hey man,” offering a full bear hug. In dude-culture, a full hug is a statement. There is a limited number of “both arms wrapped around you” allotments that one heterosexual guy reserves for another. With having lived together in two different states (Iowa and California), neither of which being the state which we first became middle school friends (Illinois), not to mention a quick overnight stay in the Myrtle Beach municipal jail (don’t ask), Chris and I undoubtedly meet this criteria. “How was the drive?”

“Shitty,” I respond. The drive was fine. I was hungry.

Beau, Chris’ current San Diego roommate, quickly joins the male congregation and too offers a Sportscenter half-hug. Dudes getaway weekend has officially commenced.

9:30pm

After a brief detour into town for dinner and a couple of beers, we drive back to camp and grab a seat around the fireless fire pit. Conversation quickly turns to tomorrow’s main event.

Twenty-two miles with more than 6,000 feet of elevation gain. On paper, this would have been the most difficult day on the Appalachian Trail when factoring in altitude. Considering only Eddie and I had done any cardio training (very light training, at that) leading up to tomorrow’s climb, our attitude was less than brazen.

But it was the information we had acquired earlier that week that really shook our confidence. At approximately 13,000 feet, near the mountain’s base camp (we weren’t one of the chosen few to receive a permit through the lottery, thus why we had only one day), the trail was covered in six feet of ice and snow. The trail is “impossible” according to the park ranger, without proper mountaineering gear – crampons and an ice axe. Between the four of us, our combined mountaineering experience was zero.

For someone who went into a half year backpacking trip having no experience, you would think this would be no sweat. Admittedly, I was a little nervous about the situation – that was until I went to REI to pick up my loaner crampons and ice axe, in which my nerves were promptly and violently intensified. The crampons were in such poor condition that REI would only rent them with the corresponding mountaineering boots out of fear of them malfunctioning on any other piece of footwear. Each boot was roughly the size and weight of a SmartCar. DumbBoot. Because I needed the crampons, I begrudgingly accepted their moon boots .

Then the very friendly customer service representative, Brad, sized me up and handed me an ice axe. “Any questions?” he asked.

“Yeah, just one. How do I use this?”

An extended pause accompanied by a dumbfounded stare. He was waiting for me to say that I was just kidding. I wasn’t kidding. I really hadn’t the slightest clue.

“You’re hiking Mt. Whitney, right?” I made this point perfectly clear earlier in our interaction, but because Whitney is considered an advanced trail, he figured that he must’ve misheard me.

“Yep. That’s right.”

“Well honestly, I’ve only used one of these a couple of times myself, only playing around. I wouldn’t feel comfortable giving you a lesson for something like Whitney. Let me get Tom.”

Tom was the resident mountaineer expert on staff and had summited Whitney several times himself. Tom came over and Brad informed him that I needed a quick lesson on how to use the ice axe because I would be attempting to hike Whitney this weekend with no mountaineering experience.

Tom hesitated. He said nothing, but his brow made perfectly transparent what Tom was thinking, “you dumbass.”

“Sorry, for liability reasons- I can’t,” Tom said in a very matter-of-fact tone.

I pleaded my case – “I’m not going to sue – I promise. I understand there’s liability for you to teach me how to use this, so don’t teach me. Just maybe play around with it as if you were going to use it for yourself?”

Tom wasn’t having it. He avoided eye contact and walked away. I tried a couple of the other green vested gurus, but the answers all undoubtedly pointed in the same direction- we were fucked.

So I walked out of the store with my space boots (which I had no intention of using), crampons (which I had no faith in working with my New Balances), and an ice axe (which I had no idea how to use).

“This should be good,” I thought.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

3:02am

Because setting my alarm for 3:00am is contradictory to everything I stand for, I opted to let the tent sleep for an extra two minutes when setting my alarm the night before. 5:00 am is impossibly early; anything before that is a joke. Regardless, when four ill-prepared dudes need to cover 22-miles before dusk (with six of those being under ice), time is of the essence. Without anyone uttering a word, we packed our belongings, and zombie-strolled toward the car to make the 10-minute drive to the trailhead.

3:40am

We were on the trail. Chris led the pack with a gait that was 100% excitement fueled. The other two guys kept pace with him. I was still trying to figure if I was awake – if I was, why? – and who I needed to blame. When I realized that the other three were running up the mountain, I reminded Chris at our first break to “walk as if you were going to be on a stairmaster for the next 15 hours.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” he answered honestly.  Hike your own hike I thought. We pressed on.

From left to right: Good Badger, Chris, Eddie (that's as open as my eyes would get)

4:45am

We encountered our first patch of snow. Like we had anticipated, it was on the slope of a hill covering the trail and therefore a tricky maneuver. What caught us off guard, however, was how quickly we’d encounter this obstacle. We were told it was the last three miles that would be an issue. We couldn’t have been more than three miles from the trailhead.

As I sat down to strap on my crampons, Beau pops his head up from the top of the hill. “The snow stops just over this ridge. You won’t need crampons.”

I climb the rocks to the side of the trail.

Crisis averted. For now.

5:30am

The team stops to take a 2nd breakfast and enjoy the view of the sun rising over the east horizon. The pink and orange illuminated sky peeking through the park’s valley was enough to make me forget that I had hiked four and a half miles before sunrise. Such beauty has a way of paralyzing cynicism. The scene gave me flashbacks to the Trail- blending subtle nostalgia with awesome beauty. Goosebumps.

8:25am

Somewhere between 11,500 and 12,000 feet, half of the team is starting to show effects of the altitude. Our break frequency has gone from every 45 to minutes down to 15.

Although Beau is naturally the most athletic of the group, his “training” consisted of bench presses and squats. Needless to say, he was really sucking wind and to a lesser extent, so was Chris. Still, no cause for alarm, that’s to be expected at this elevation. Eddie and I were fine- even our light training was paying dividends.

We were only about an hour from base camp, which was only three miles from summit.

The "easy" part of the trail

9:35am

Base camp.

And although we had already been awake for SIX AND A HALF HOURS to this point, the collective fatigue was starting to show beyond what the lack of sleep would predict.

Ahead in the distance we can finally see where the trail became challenging (putting it lightly). A 50 degree ascent covered in ice and snow, just like the ranger had warned us. From afar, this slope was every bit as intimidating as I had imagined. The one point of reassurance was the small line of people slowly making their way up the mountain. Although it wouldn’t be easy, it was possible. Just beyond that was Whitney’s peak. The finish line was in sight.

After a 30 minute break for food and to zen out in our oxygen deprived state, we head toward the tundra.

Where shit gets real

10:15am

The fifteen minutes that it took to approach the beginning of the mountaineering zone proved to be more troubling than I hoped. Chris was visibly off. He and Beau were stopping to break every 3-5 minutes – and although Beau’s was due to catching his breath, Chris was beginning to look ill. He assured us that he was fine, and we pressed on.

As we sat down to finally attach the jagged metal spikes to the bottoms of our footwear, I notice again that Chris was out of it. He wasn’t attaching anything, just blankly staring into space.

“You alright?” I asked.

“I’m a little nauseous,” he offered with a delayed response. For Chris to admit something was wrong, meant that something was wrong. He’s the human equivalent of a bloodhound- he’d push himself to the point of death if someone didn’t stop him first.

A hiker from another group came over asking for assistance in affixing his crampons. Contrary to reality, we gave the impression that we knew what we were doing. This hiker could tell right away that Chris was struggling. As I helped him figure out how to attach his crampons, he handed Chris three ibuprofen. “Here, that should help.”

At this point I was a circus juggler of emotion. On the one hand, I was concerned about Chris. I optimistically told myself to give the Advil a couple of minutes to set in, and he would feel better. On the other hand, I was running on an adrenaline high. Not only did I feel more energized than I did at any other point in the hike, but navigating the snowy terrain with the mountaineering gear proved to be FaF (Fun as Fuck). All of the nervous and less-than-confident energy melted away. The cloudless, deep, dark blue-sky back-dropped the peak that was coming into greater focus with every step. There was no doubt in my mind that we would summit.

And then, it happened.

Chris bent over and started dry heaving. The dry heaving quickly turned into wet-heaving (the roundabout way of saying vomit).

“It’s not smart for me to keep going,” he said. He was right. I should have stopped him 10 minutes ago. “You keep going – I’m going to head back to base camp. I’ll wait for you guys there.”

Eddie and I looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do without saying anything. What was clear was that Chris needed to head back, and him doing that by himself was a bad idea.

I asked myself, if I was the one who was sick, how would the scenario play out.

It was at that point the decision became clear.

“Eddie, you and Beau need to summit. I’m going back with Chris.”

I took one last look at the peak ahead, turned around, and we began our 8.5 mile descent back to the parking lot.

Summit-less Success

We applied for our Mt. Whitney permit in February. We got word of our successful lottery result in March. The adventure had been on my mind every day since. Turning around 2.5 miles from the top, with plenty of fuel in the tank, and the realization that my next attempt would have to wait until at least next year’s lottery was the hardest decision I’ve made in quite some time.

And also the easiest.

As we headed back, I couldn’t help but re-visit the thought about what would happen if circumstances were reversed. There is a zero percent chance Chris wouldn’t have called it quits early, and probably with a lot less turmoil than I was battling. Anyone who knows him would attest to this. Such loyalty is a rare quality, even amongst friends. If ever I needed to count on anyone for anything, Chris would sit atop this list. Now it was my turn to step up to the plate. Because – after all – a stellar view and a notable physical feat is a self-serving accomplishment, but at the end of the day what am I left with? A temporary ego boost? Instead I had an opportunity to fail for someone who would have gladly failed for me.

That’s a real victory.

(Side note: Eddie and Beau also did not summit – or make it that much further for the matter. Our day ended whiskey filled, defeated, but above all, joyously. The perfect end to a perfect dudes getaway weekend.)

You’ve heard a lot about The Dusty Camel and Ian Mangiardi, both on this site and in Appalachian Trials.  Ian played a huge role in my thru-hike preparation, and ultimately, the book.  For this I am forever grateful.

But the catalyst to all of the AT goodwill began even before Ian took the reigns of Zach’s pre-trail therapist.  It was Josh Turner of Camping Gear TV who got the ball rolling, not only by putting me in touch with Ian, but also introducing me to many of the sponsors of his show (including Hi Tec, Eureka!, and Innate Gear).

The good folks of Camping Gear TV have dealt another bout of good fortune to the Good Badger (three goods, one sentence – the grammar equivalent of two girls, one cup.).  They decided to let me talk about living in the woods for a half year.  On video.  And they posted it.

If you’re into the outdoors in any capacity, I highly recommend subscribing to Camping Gear TV (either through RSS, Facebook, YouTube and/or Twitter accounts).  If REI and Santa made a superbaby, this superbaby would be Camping Gear TV.  In other words, they give you awesome camping equipment for free.  Get some.

- Side Note of Awesomeness -

Guess which book recently got a positive endorsement from Tim Ferriss (read the comments), author of New York Times NUMBER 1 Best-Selling The 4-Hour Workweek and The 4-Hour Body?  Hint: I wrote it.  The cover is currently getting a slight makeover.

I have this friend…

This friend is a diligent worker.  This friend shows up to work earlier and earlier every year.  This friend leaves work later and later.  This friend  eats a very abbreviated lunch at their desk.  This friend handles urgent work e-mail on the weekend (and most e-mail is urgent).  This friend has lost touch with many friends and family.  This friend has fallen into the trap.

This friend’s name:  WAY TOO MANY FUCKING PEOPLE. 

I understand, you work these hours because you have to, not because you want to.  The alternative could very likely spell unemployment, Ramen, mass transit, and 1-ply toilet paper.  The few extra hours at the office are worth not wiping with wax paper.  On this, we agree.

Here’s where we might not agree: compromising your sanity for the sake of your livelihood. 

Working eighty hour weeks is unacceptable*.  It’s unacceptable because, believe it or not, it’s avoidable.  That’s right, there’s a very real chance that you can work fewer hours, while not only keeping your job, but excelling (not the Microsoft kind) in the process.

* = If you’re working your life’s passion, there are no thresholds, limits, or constranits.  In this situation you aren’t working, you’re putting in time to get to where you’re supposed to be.  You aren’t living for Friday.  You aren’t suicidal on Monday.  The feeling is totally different.  This scenario is ideal.  

The Why

But before we tackle the how, we must confront the why.  It may seem silly to ask the question “why should I work fewer hours?”  The answer is obvious: because working more blows harder than the fat kid extinguishing his birthday candles.  There are a million things you’d rather do than sit in conference room watching three just-above-totally-incompetent humans restate each other in their own words.

But the fact of reality is that people are creatures of habit.  Once you start stringing together a few excessive work weeks, excessive work weeks become the norm.  Although it’s not desirable, it’s what we’re used to.

But there is a very compelling reason why you shouldn’t be working eighty hour work weeks: it’s raping your soul.

You get to work at 7, leave at 7 (the other one), while failing to give yourself a minute of reprieve in between.  You eat lunch at your desk!!!  Forget the fact that your digestion suffers while stuffing your face over e-mail.  Forget the fact that sucking your lunch down in 4.5 bites will do little to satiate (the purpose of eating).  This is a matter of principle.  Work shouldn’t feel like suffocation, whereby the day’s end marks your release from the stranglehold.   It’s time to take a stand.

“I vow to eat lunch outside, under the sun.  I vow to grant myself an hour to enjoy the day.  I vow to start taking care of my mental health.” 

Maybe you’re too much of the nose-to-the-grindstone type to be convinced that an hour away from e-mail is acceptable use of your time. Sixty minutes away from your desk would breed more anxiety than relief.  For you, there is a much more convincing reason to go clear your mind, it will make you better at your job.  Are you more productive when you’re happy, refreshed, and not a slave to a set of unhealthy routines?  I know I am.

Assuming your work involves any degree of creativity or big picture conceptualization, the worst thing you can do to your productivity is abuse your sanity.  A clear mind is a creative mind.  You already make attempts to preserve your sanity through Facebook, YouTube, or Shit[insert any noun]Says.  The problem with using Facebook as your tool for sanity preservation is that Facebook isn’t satisfying; it’s easily accessed and a better alternative to what you’re supposed to be doing.  If you replaced every minute spent perusing your Newsfeed with real fulfillment, you’d be happier and more productive (A causes B).

But again, this is a principle stand.  The goal of life isn’t attached to a dollar sign.  The goal of life is happiness (you would spend said money in hopes of achieving happiness, but misery doesn’t have to be the price tag – and money is rarely the answer).  Happiness is mental health.  Mental health is taking care of yourself.  Taking care of yourself means NOT EATING YOUR TRADER JOES WRAP AT YOUR FUCKING DESK.

The How

Okay, here’s the $803,055 question (I’ve never understood the reference quite honestly, which won’t prevent me from butchering using it).  How do we maintain, if not improve our productivity in the process of working fewer hours?

I thought you’d never ask.

The answer starts with taking a step back.  Every day, you’re given a set of tasks.  You’re given a set of metrics to measure your productivity of said tasks.  You do the tasks, you’re given more tasks.  The cycle repeats.  That’s a job.

That’s also the trap.  Who makes the rules for what you’re supposed to be doing?  Your boss?  Your boss’ boss?  Here’s an interesting fact about your boss and your boss’ boss.  They’re people- and likely no smarter than you.  Maybe they went to school for longer than you.  Maybe they’ve been at the company for a few extra years.  But, odds are, they weren’t born with a pre-disposition to be the unquestioned authority of what you do.

The point is – your job isn’t merely to do the tasks assigned to you.  Your job is to make as big an impact at your company as possible.  In most cases, that will fall outside the scope of your “job description”.   The person who best knows how to make the greatest impact at work is you.  You bring a unique set of skills, a unique perspective, and unique energy to your company.  Don’t mask that.  Find the inefficiencies.  Fix them.  Make it known that you’re shaking shit up.  Take chances.  If anyone above you has any brains, they will take notice.  They will notice your creativity.  They will notice your leadership.   They will notice your innovation.  You know what they won’t notice (or more likely stop noticing)?

That you took an hour at the park to enjoy your lunch.

Work smarter.  Not harder.

Be happier.

This website didn’t used to be about me.  Sure my name is in the URL.  And yeah, the “about me” page contains more info about me than any person should know.  But the content of the posts were always marketing best practices, technology tutorials, and how to get your cat on Oprah-types-of-insights.  The subject changed, but it was consistently not me.

And then I went on a hike. 

Although I tried to make the focus of my writing the trail’s culture, I started to leak into the posts.  I never liked the idea of writing about me, too many people do it, and, in my opinion, very few do it well.  I didn’t want to fall into that category.   But in order for a hiker’s journal to have any context, it’s important to get to know the hiker.

So, I opened up.  One thing led to another.  I finished the trail.  I wrote a book.  I made a lot of noise about said book.  And now here we are…

Normally, I wouldn’t find a post updating you on the status of my life worth writing, but I am also cognizant of the fact that there are now people who care about the Badger behind the screen.  I’ve received enough e-mails inquiring about a life update to make this theory seem less delusional.  Although, far be it from me to let delusion prevent action.

So if you don’t care about a Zach Davis State of the Union, now is the time to click the “x” box in the top right corner.

….

You’re still with me?  Good.  I always liked you best anyway.

Here’s what’s new in the world of the Good Badger.

1) I have a job

As it turns out, writing two blog posts a month isn’t enough to pay the bills (or even to buy the pen that signs the check).  So instead of living at home forever, I decided to go the route that doesn’t end in suicide and join the working world.

I have accepted a position as the Marketing Director for Tech Cocktail, an emerging technology media company.  In a nutshell, my job is to be me- for them.  Pretty sweet.

More specifically – I write.  I cover startups.  I organize events.  I create and manage digital projects.  I meet and interact with millionaires and poor people who will soon be millionaires.  I learn a lot.  I send a tremendous amount of e-mails.

At this point, you might be asking yourself…

Aren’t you falling straight back into the technology suckhole you were so desperately trying to escape?

Although the conditions are eerily similar to where I was before leaving for the trail (working remotely, no strict hours, many projects), I have learned my lesson.  I know now that in order to my job effectively I have to intentionally build in a fair amount of fuck around time into my week.  The reason I’ve been slow to post here, is because my free time has largely been spent on hikes, exploring, and being social.  Fool me once, Appalachian Trail thru-hike.  Fool me twice, shame on me. 

As to the technology issue, yes, I am surrounded by all things tech on all levels at all times.  I like technology, and judging by the amount of interactions we have on Facebook, so do you.  I’ve learned that technology is not the enemy; it’s only our usage of it that can be at fault.  When it’s time to Tech Cocktail (a new verb I’m experimenting with), I am in a vortex of Tweets, cloud-based collaborative platforms, software, and keystrokes.  When it’s time for Zach to recharge, he is in the mountains, he is with friends, or playing basketball.  His phone is no where to be found (unless you look in his middle console or bedroom – this is not an invitation to rob him). 

So far, it’s been good (healthy and sustainable).  Plus, I like my job.  I like the people I work with.  I believe in the company.  I was fortunate to have options, and I chose based upon the above characteristics.  But most importantly, as I already stated, I get to be me.

My position involves having a fairly visible online persona.   For most who too share this digital semi-spotlight, it’s important that they speak through their work mouth – which roughly translates to constant self-censorship.  I’ve never been good at that and I have stopped trying.  In other words, I can tweet the occasional hippo having a crazy explosive diarrhea fart, and not worry about losing my job.  That’s important.  Once you start compromising on hippo farts, it’s all over.

2)  I moved to San Francisco

I moved to San Francisco.  Because I work remotely, I can live anywhere (with wi-fi access, that is).  San Francisco was my top choice.  Why?  Yosemite, Sonoma, Napa, Big Sur, John Muir Woods, Tahoe, Pacific Ocean.  Oh and the city is pretty neat too.  If you live in the bay area and like to drink beer, we should coordinate.

3)  I will write another book

Someday.  I have already decided.  Probably not this week, or this year, but before long.  You made the entire process a lot of fun, and I’m already itching to make the next one better.  But for now, I am focusing on Tech Cocktail’ing and getting lost in the mountains when I can.  If you want to be the first to know when the next idea drops, the Good Badger e-mail club is for you.

4)  Thank you

That’s not new, or even a thing really, but still very important and true.  Your Amazon reviews have made the book launch a glowing success.  I am proud of the early reception of Appalachian Trials (the best Appalachian Trail book ever written by a Badger), and you are the reason for this being so.  I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heat.

That’s it.

Stay good,

Zach

Hi team,

I just wanted to let you know that Badger’s Appalachian Trail book has its own website.   If you’re so inclined, check it out, let me know what you think, maybe get a book or seven (one for Snow White and six of her dwarfs- Dopey doesn’t get one until he cleans his act up), maybe “like” the page, maybe tweet it, or Google plus it.  Or maybe do none of that.  That’s up to you.  I’m just giving you options.

The new Appalachian Trials website was designed and developed by Adam Nutting of Hiking the Trail.  You should check out Adam’s site because he gives you free gear.

Also, as a little bit of a change in procedure- this website will slowly be transitioning away from all things Appalachian Trail.  There is now a dedicated Appalachian Trials blog that will be taking over that role in due time.  It’s still a bit rough right now, but I promise you, it will eventually be awesome.  And let this be a warning to 2012 thru-hikers, pay attention to this blog over the course of the next couple of weeks.  Just trust me, k?

the Good Badger will return to its regular scheduled programming, which roughly translates to whatever is on my mind for the day.  I may still chat about the AT, but I may also try to get you to move to San Diego.  You just can’t be sure.

Also a little update with the status of the book:

You guys are amazing.  We already have 10 reviews.  That really, truly means a lot to me (as you likely already know).  If you have read the book and wouldn’t mind taking 89 seconds out of your day to share your thoughts with Amazon, that would bring a smile to my face.  Also, I’m hopeful Amazon will soon link the print and e-book page so all reviews feed into one.  ARE YOU LISTENING AMAZON!?!

That’s all we have for now.

Bear hugs,

Zach