So exactly what does it take to successfully climb the highest mountain in the world a dozen times?

Ask all-star mountaineering guide Dave Hahn, and he'll tell you it's more than clocking a four-minute mile or bench-pressing 400 pounds.

"As a guide, I have to be ready for anything," Hahn says. "But probably not a push-up contest."

At 49, Hahn is an old dog in the mountaineering game who is still at the peak of his career. His résumé stands up next to any of the world's top mountain climbers, and for 25 years, he's led clients (including former Gov. Gary Johnson) to high-altitude summits across the globe. His reliability and courage under pressure have earned him a reputation as one the most elite guides working today.

But quiz him about his workout routine, and Hahn gives a shrug and a smile.

"I mostly try to keep doing things rather than just pure exercise," Hahn says from the kitchen of his Arroyo Seco home. "Pure exercise works for plenty of people, but I'm not disciplined enough for pure exercise. But playing in the mountains every day? I can do that."

Hahn is an imposing figure — with a brawny build and strong jaw — but he speaks in the calm, mellow cadence of a world-wise adventurer.

For him, fitness is a natural byproduct of his lifestyle. A 25-year veteran of the ski patrol at Taos Ski Valley, Hahn has alternated between patrolling and mountain guiding in Washington, Alaska, the Himalayas and Antarctica.

"In my case, I've reached a level of fitness and I try to maintain that by staying active and playing in the mountains," Hahn says. "Ski patrolling, for me, is a great mix. I'm at altitude, outside in the cold, but it's also good mental training. It's the perfect fitness plan for the things I do in the mountains the rest of the year, and it keeps me ready for things to go wrong."

Frigid, early mornings on the ridge combined with a daily dose of on-the-mountain rescues helps keep Hahn limber and on his toes. And while he's at work, the awareness that he'll soon be back on a mountain in Alaska or Asia drives him to stay busy.

"I'm going to Everest again in March, and it for sure dictates the way I do things at work," Hahn says. "I never miss a chance to hike the ridge or climb the peak, and it helps me do my job with enthusiasm."

In stark contrast to the hard-charging, ego-driven mountain-climbing nuts that inhabit much of the Rocky Mountain West, Hahn is thoughtful and sensible in his approach to physical conditioning.

"In what I do, there's a lot of people who are fanatical about exercising," Hahn says. "I admire that, but only to a point. I'm all about sustainability." Longevity has always been the goal, Hahn says. He remembers being in his early 20s and admiring those climbers who spent a lifetime on the world's highest mountains.

"I realized then that you can't be as good as them until you put in as many years," Hahn recalls. "I realized you can't have that depth and wealth of knowledge until you've lived. It convinced me that I actually wanted to get older in it."

But that's not always the case with the amateurs who hire Hahn as a guide. He has seen plenty of clients spend months getting themselves in the best shape of their lives in anticipation of a big climb, only to fall prey to the complexities of the trek. Impressive musculature and a high VO2 max (the amount of oxygen your body can consume when you're really pushing it) are important — but they're not everything.

"Someone coming in only on pure fitness terms is mistaking the mountain as a race," Hahn says. "Fitness just gets you in the door. You take these incredibly physically fit people, but when they climb mountains they come across limits."

Relentless storms, bitter cold, the boredom of acclimating, and weeks of trudging through life-threatening terrain all factor into the equation.

"If it turns out that this is just the world's biggest StairMaster, then there's a fair number of people that I know who are capable. But there are so many other things that usually come into play," Hahn says. "Any big mountain is eventually going to require everything you've got and a little more."

Despite his hulking frame and his nickname (Hahn is known as "Super Dave" among his fellow patrollers at Taos Ski Valley), Hahn is adamant that he doesn't have some sort of preternatural disposition to endure weeks of torture under inhospitable conditions.

"I quibble with that. There's a natural assumption that I have three lungs and two hearts — that I was born for this," Hahn says.

But it's not innate ability, he insists. It's a passion for the outdoors.

"I feel like I'm extremely ordinary," Hahn says. "I succeed at it, not by some freakish gift, but because I've really wanted to be in these places."

He admits he's strong, but he qualifies it by explaining that "strong" is a relative term. Sure, he can keep going on the third day of a vicious storm, but put him on a beach playing volleyball, and he's completely out of his element.

A balanced diet also factors into Hahn's training. But as with exercise, he's not overly zealous.

"I take great pride in eating and drinking what I want," Hahn says. "I'm not a paragon of virtue. I don't have a perfectly balanced diet or an expansive knowledge of nutrition. I'm not interested in obsessing over correct food, but I try to be somewhat smart."

As he matures, Hahn says decades of experience help to boost his confidence.

"When I was younger and more scared, I'd get up before daylight and run up the mountain before work," Hahn says. "But if I know I'm going to be sleeping in the dirt and the cold for two months, why not spend one more day in bed and have a nice breakfast?"

For Hahn, moderation is key.

"It is about quality of life, not about constantly punishing yourself," Hahn says. "I also like to think that I've gotten smarter about how I abuse my body."

As he prepares for another season in the mountains, Hahn says he's feeling strong.

"In mountaineering, the physical prime isn't where the conventional male prime would be. Now that I'm older, I cling to that," Hahn says.

He realizes that his clients depend on his fitness, and he's hopeful that he'll have the presence of mind to know when he can't do it anymore. But at this point, Hahn shows no signs of slowing down. And he dismisses the notion that he's too old to keep doing extraordinary things.

"I think it's a tragedy that it's people's view of fitness," Hahn says. "It shouldn't be an event well-played. It should be a life lived well."

Contact J. R. Logan at jrlogan@taosnews.com.