King converts barn for his latest innovation: Altitude training

KASILOF, Alaska — Jeff King’s dogs nap on simulated mountaintops and run through real valleys – a one-two combination that experts who train Olympic athletes, Tour de France cyclists and the NFL’s Chicago Bears advise for peak fitness.

Many athletes have turned to altitude chambers – hoping to boost endurance, strength and speed – for more than a decade. But who would have thought the technique would show up in Alaska to condition sled dogs? Who else: Jeff King, winner of the 2006 Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race and renowned tinkerer.

This past summer, King hired a firm that builds these chambers. They outfitted a small barn to convert it into a rustic altitude tent, with sealed windows and machinery that regulates oxygen. Some of his core dogs nap inside, dozing at simulated high altitude, up to 12,000 feet, before going outside and running through the scenic 2,500-foot Nenana and Susitna River valleys that line the Denali Highway.

Not everyone is onboard with the idea that breathing thin air improves performance, especially with sled dogs, which already have inherently superior heart and lung systems to humans. And King is quick to point out that altitude training won’t make or break his dog team, but it just might give them a small edge. “This is very small, but it could be very significant,” he said, talking by cell phone as he drove the Parks Highway north to Fairbanks from his home in Denali Park. “It’s not in lieu of any type of training. In fact, if I learned anything, this is just putting an edge on the samurai sword. You better worry about building the sword first. This is just polishing the edge. I believe it will help.”

King was on his way up the highway to speak at the annual Alaska Dog Mushers Association mushing symposium, where he announced this latest move to field a dog team that he hopes will be good enough to win his fifth Iditarod. If King wins No. 5, he’ll be the second ever with that many victories, joining Rick Swenson.

King keeps coming up with ideas to improve performance, whether it’s harness and sled designs or his latest push: a summer-long program of intensive daily swimming to keep his dogs in peak shape.

Swimming laps around Goose Lake all summer and the altitude conditioning are actually hand-in-glove, King said. Both ideas emerged as he studied the success of Lance Armstrong in the Tour de France. While the swimming involved an investment of time and a couple quality outboard motors, the altitude barn had a much higher sticker price. A room conversion from the supplier, Colorado Altitude Training, starts at $18,000 and goes up.

“I did lots of research and negotiations, and eventually made a commitment to try this on dogs,” King said. “Nobody’s done it.”

Despite the relatively remote location of King’s dog lot, two-thirds of the way between Anchorage and Fairbanks on a two-lane highway, it was no big deal setting a unit up, said Rip Young, director of marketing for Colorado Altitude Training. The only hassle was mild inconvenience since there is no local hardware store for supplies. “Logistically speaking, there wasn’t a Home Depot down the road, so we pretty much had to pack in everything we needed,” Young said.

The theory behind altitude training is to take advantage of the body’s reaction to the lack of oxygen at high elevations – 8,000 feet and up. It spurs an increase in production of red blood cells and a few other changes, including improved breathing, Young said. The principle is to rest at high altitude but workout closer to sea level. Something about that combination in particular seems to heighten the training, producing better results.

Athletes have long slept in altitude tents for a performance boost. And barns have been converted over by owners of thoroughbred racing horses, but it’s never been done for dogs until now. “Generally, what we’ve seen in animals is a very similar reaction to humans, which is improved endurance, and quicker recovery time. There are some indications of greater speed and even acceleration to top-end speed and improved power,” Young said.

The way it works is pretty simple. A room is sealed relatively tightly so that pumps and separators can essentially strain oxygen from the mix of air entering a room. The equipment drops the oxygen level from the standard 20.9 percent oxygen at sea level to, say, 13 percent – the number can be set to mimic the thinner air of any altitude. There isn’t any pressure change involved.

King is trying to figure out if the equipment produces any discernable performance change in his team. He’s been having a control group of his best racing dogs rest in the converted barn for six to eight hours a day. He has enlisted the help of Arleigh Reynolds, a renowned canine physiologist and sprint musher who lives in Fairbanks. “We are finishing up the first stages of testing, and I plan to have the whole team on altitude training by Nov. 1, on the days they’re home,” King said.

King’s dogs increasingly aren’t at home, but for a very good reason. They’re on the trail all day. His goal in keeping his dogs fit all summer with 90-minute swim sessions was to be able to transition into long runs on land early in the fall. He met that goal, in a huge way. By Halloween, his team was running 50-plus miles from Cantwell down the rolling, snow-dusted Denali Highway to King’s tent camp near the Susitna River. They’d camp a few hours and make the run home.

By contrast, most (but not all) distance mushers are happy to reach 20 miles this time of year.
Jeff King begins a training run with his team.
Jeff King begins a training run with his team.
Photo by Matt Brossart

That level of mileage, going 50 miles at a time, is typically unheard-of this time of year, and King says the credit goes to the swimming program. The dogs this year are more fit than they were this time last year.

“But can I parlay that into a better, more prepared team?” King asked. “I believe I can. I started at a level of fitness and attitude that was controlled, happy and powerful. Historically, I’m not big on records, but I do have landmark dates and mileages, and I can well remember when I first hit a 50 mile-run on Thanksgiving, I was doing back flips, thinking, ‘Can you believe how far we’ve come?’ Then last year, we did a 40-mile run on Halloween. They were tired but they did it. This year, I only stopped at 50 because I didn’t have any more snow and I’m going to run their feet off. I’ve gone through 2,000 booties.”

The Denali Highway had between a dusting and 6 scant inches of snow before Halloween. With the dogs running on essentially frost-covered gravel, the booties were a necessity. Those Cordura® booties are fantastic quality, but they last about one run, if that, in those conditions.

It’s too soon to tell if the altitude training will pay off. But King, who delights in putting brainstorms into action, is plainly excited by it. It all goes back to Armstrong and his cycling coaches. They inspired a third idea, as well, but one that the dogs aren’t yet as excited about. King also spent the summer building a simple, doggy Jacuzzi to relieve sore muscles. He used a huge, 4-foot-deep tub intended to catch pollution around fuel tanks, figured a way to heat water inside of it and attached Jacuzzi units to the big bath. Their reaction? “They’re reluctant,” King said, his voice crackling as the cellular phone connection grew weak. “So far we’re getting in there with them. And they love that. We can stand with them and hold them so they’re treading water …,” he said, before the line went dead as he drove out of range.

Young said King should notice some benefits in his dogs after a solid month breathing rarefied air. Altitude conditioning takes about three to four weeks of steady use before athletes say they start feeling results. Stories written about the process suggest it is hard to verify whether there’s a physical improvement or a placebo effect in humans who use the technology. But there are many, many pro athletes who are sleeping tonight in some kind of plastic tent or converted room.

Of course, once the Iditarod starts, there’s no more access to the barn, but Young said athletes have about two weeks before they begin to lose the effects of the tent. And the Iditarod takes roughly nine days to win.

While King is the first Iditarod musher to employ high altitude conditioning for his dogs, surprisingly, he may not be the only driver at the starting line with a team that’s gone through the program. On Oct. 30, Young said his company had already been contacted by another dog musher who’d made a commitment to buy a unit. He wouldn’t disclose who it was since the sale was still pending.

A quick call to recent champions Mitch Seavey, Doug Swingley and Martin Buser resulted in three negatives. Seavey said he knew a little about the theory behind altitude training, partly through his son, Dallas, who wrestles at the Olympic level, and concluded there are other things to throw his money at. He asked if anyone knows what effect, if any, the altitude tents would have on dogs, since dogs already have superior cardio-vascular systems to horses, and are vastly better than humans. “There are so many factors that go into producing a top dog team, factors that I can more readily control than something like that, which is kind of an unproven thing,” Seavey said, adding he’s more interested in finding genetically gifted athletes. “If I’m going to go crazy on something, it’s going to have to be the very best dogs possible,” he said.

Swingley agreed with Seavey, adding that he trains at 9,000 to 10,000 feet anyway at his home trails near Lincoln, Mont. Swingley pointed out that the Iditarod does blood testing on dogs entering the race, and his dogs always match up with those trained at sea level. There’s no difference, he said.
Jeff King’s team stretches out the gangline on another early season run.
Jeff King’s team stretches out the gangline on another early season run.
Photo by Matt Brossart

But if it’s true that another competitor has already jumped to keep pace with King with this innovation, it won’t be the first time. King unveiled his now famous sit-down sled, the tail-dragger, three years ago at the Kuskokwim 300 in mid-January. Buser saw it in operation at that race and had his own version fully built and operational a month and a half later at the start of the Iditarod.

King said this idea is in response to the tough competition. He pointed out a video interview with Swingley, himself a four-time champ, filmed right after Swingley finished second behind King last year. Swingley noted that King shouldn’t rest on his laurels because he won’t be able to win it in 2007 doing the same thing he did in 2006. “And I believe him,” King said. “I don’t know if he knows what kind of fire he lit under me. It made me go, ‘Y’know, he’s right; whether it’s him or somebody else, I really want to pull out all the stops.’ I may not feel old, but I know I’m not going to be doing this forever, and I want to do whatever I’m going to do right now.”