CHOP wood, CARRY WATER

Ryan speaks candidly about how he views his athletic ability as a gift - one that he is consistently trying to use to help other people. Ryan had the chance to train in Zambia and Ethiopia, where he learned that access to clean water can extend someone’s lifespan by 10 years. He and his wife started the Halls STEPS foundation. STEPS engages the running community in funding grants to care for the 4-5 million orphaned children and 60,000 children living on the streets in Ethiopia. Funds also aid orphan prevention through education, clean water, health clinics, and microlending throughout East Africa.

He’s adamant that he wants to use his athleticism for the greater good of humanity. He’s approaching this Feat of Strength the same way that he views his individual actions to bring about change in the world - it has to happen one step at a time.

“If you look at what next step you can take, if you don’t get lost in the whole challenge, if we all took one small step every day to making the world a better place, that’s where change happens”

“I think it’s important to understand just how much wood a cord is. A cord of wood is 128 cubic feet of firewood, so 4’ high, 4’ wide, 8’ long.”

For comparison, an eight-foot truck bed can only fit half a cord of firewood. Not only that, he’ll be carting what he estimates to be two 62-lb jugs of water up the South Kaibab Trail out of the Grand Canyon having filled them up with water from the Colorado River. This feat is a full-day, full-body task, designed to fatigue most of the muscles in his body.

Over time, Ryan’s began to pivot from distance running to strength training. This feat is the perfect marriage of distance and strength, so he’s already well-suited to the task at hand. He’s got years of conditioning and strength helping him out, but that doesn’t mean he can skip out on training for this. Quite the opposite, he’s been working for months on end. His life is busy and he knows sometimes the excuses are loud, daring him to skip a day here and there. He meets those excuses with simple consistency.

“It’s just twenty minutes a day. I tell myself, I can do anything for twenty minutes, if it’s just twenty minutes, I have no reason to skip it. Those twenty minutes add up.”

It starts hard and only gets harder. Splitting the firewood has fatigued most of his muscles - chopping firewood properly will engage the entire core. To properly anchor yourself to the ground while chopping firewood requires the entire posterior chain to be activated - hamstrings, calves, quads, glutes. That doesn’t even account for the swing itself - lats, traps, delts, obliques, and pectoral muscles all working together. It’ll spike your heart rate and increase your breathing. It is – in no uncertain terms – an entire body workout, and Ryan has spent more time and energy than he has anticipated by the time all of the firewood has been split.

He has some recovery as he commutes to the rim of the Grand Canyon. The run into the Canyon is the most enjoyable part of the feat, though he knows the 5,000 foot descent will become the hardest ascent in a short matter of time. It keeps the run into the Canyon from being completely joyous; the fear is present every step of the way.

Ryan’s pretty good at living in the mile he is in, but even that mentality is being tested. He’s taking things step by step at this point, and the sun is dangerously close to setting before making it out of the Grand Canyon is in his reach. The darkness is what brings Ryan close to his breaking point. He reckons with his disappointment while wrestling with the reality that he has to keep going.

It’s fitting that he leans on a mantra to bring him to some kind of metaphorical light.

“Be like bamboo; bend, don’t break.”

Over and over, he repeats it with every step forward. He’s got his entire team with him and he has no choice but to lean on them, for sustenance and support. They are a wall of support for him to lean upon and they bring unending encouragement. It’s so overwhelming that Ryan is distracted from his pain enough to keep climbing. It’s more than six hours later that Ryan emerges from the Canyon and drops the water jugs. He is completely spent, but far from empty.

For anyone that knows Ryan, this makes complete sense. Every time he speaks of the physical feats he’s managed to accomplish in his life, he’s quick to speak about the people who journeyed alongside him. It’s a reminder that every time Ryan has used his body to its fullest capacity, it feels spiritual. He’s been able to run with who he describes as the “best guys in the world” all over the world, he’s used his gifts and abilities to help other people. Movement has been simply a launch pad for a decades-and-counting career in helping other people and it’s been fueled by other people supporting and carrying him.

“One of my sincerest wishes for every human is to feel the love and support I felt from my crew. This challenge became more about the people than the strength and endurance; which is how it is for me when life is at its best.”