What could go wrong

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.  I admittedly got away from writing over the summer, and it is well past time to rectify that.

I used to fly quite a bit with a captain who would always end his briefing by saying, “What could possibly go wrong?”

It was said jokingly, of course, but with an all to telling note of seriousness. There are always things that don’t go to plan, especially when flying airplanes.

There are just too many balls in the air. Too many moving parts. Logistics that can seem insurmountable. And yet, flight after flight, day after day, we find a way to make it work.

We thin1k about and brief the things we think may go wrong, and how we plan to react.  We train for processes and procedures for responding to unexpected problems. We maintain an awareness of where we are and where we want to go.

The question, though, is ever present. Nagging, like a fold in the sock under your foot. Just enough to remind you with a slight discomfort every step. “What could possibly go wrong”

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, but not as it relates to aviation. That nagging feeling has been with me my entire adult life. I’ve been thinking about the question with my upcoming bike race.

I have spent more than my fair share of time on a bike over the past decade of competing in triathalon, but over the last few years, most of that has been on an indoor trainer.

The indoor trainer is safer and more efficient. It is far more versitle than what I would have access to in my local area in terms of terrain.  It allows for precision training without concern for traffic, weather, time of day, and road condition. It solves a lot of potential problems.

I’ve signed up and have been training for the 6 Gap Century ride. The race runs through the north Georgia mountains covering 103 miles with more than 10’000 feet of climbing.  Needless to say it will be a long day.

Over the summer, I was able to scout out the course with some friends. We rode about half the course, including two of the biggest climbs.

Leading up to the ride, I had been simulating lots of climbing on my smart trainer, but descending down steep and winding mountain roads, would be another thing entirely.

What could possibly go wrong?

The scenic highways in north Georgia are beautiful. Winding roads cut into the majestic mountainsides with spectacular vistas. They also feature very little shoulder, impatient drivers, and a small piece of fabricated metal between the edge of the pavement and a very long fall.

I dont think nervous is the right word.  I would get nervous as a kid before riding my bike down a big hill. Knowing that soon, the exhileration would push that feeling aside even if there was a chance I could get hurt.

The calculus has changed a bit from those days. It is still just a hill (mountain) and a bike. But I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t recover the way I once did. I have a family to support, bills to pay. 

So, without having ridden my bike not on a stationary trainer in more than a year, and on flat ground in FL at that, I set off with my friends for this mountain adventure.

What could possibly go wrong?

Despite some challenging weather and road conditions, nothing went wrong. We all had a great and very memorable day.

But that nagging feeling was still there. All it takes is one mistake. One unforseen problem. You hope that if something happens, it will only be a minor consequence. That isn’t always in your control.

I have continued my training and preparation throughout the summer, rediscovering my love of riding outside. Especially with the new challenging terrain.

I took advantage of some opportunities to train while on long layovers. With those incredible opportunities came added concern.  Not just my health, and my family, but now this is an activity with inherent risk while I have an obligation at work.

What could go possibly go wrong?

I had dreams about it. Not nightmares per se, but the thought of crashing my bike while going down a steep hill is something my subconscious likes to remind me of.

So, it was a pleasant surprise, and a welcome change when my thinking shifted.

Flying down highway 50 at 40 miles per hour, with nothing but open road, cresting mountains, and the clear blue waters of lake Tahoe filling up my view, I had to remember to breathe.

In fairness, I frequently have to remember to breathe when descending. My senses are so enhanced and focused knowing that the stakes are raised. But the truly awesome natural beauty took my breath away.

I remember thinking to myself that I needed to snap out of it. To focus on the road. To avoid any myriad of potential mistakes that could prove catastrophic.

And I did snap out of it. But I also started thinking, I know what could go wrong. I’ve thought about it, dreamt about it, worried about it. But what could go right?

That is a much more powerful question. Even a harder one to answer, I think. We are wired to look out for threats. It is a survival mechanism. It takes a freeing of those powerfully ingrained survival instincts to think about what could go right.

There will still be nervous energy and hightened awareness as I approach each mountain crest, knowing the gravity of the potential consequences that lie ahead (figuratively and literally).

But more and more I find myself thinking, what could go right? It is a powerful shift. It just took a little push down a hill to get there.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Rules

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’m working my way through the second book in the Wheel of Time series and wanted to share a quote that I found particularly appropriate for Father’s Day.

I was first introduced to the Wheel of Time when my wife and I watched it on Amazon Prime last summer.

After we put the boys to bed, we would wade through the magical world that Robert Jordan created one episode at a time.

A broken world, doomed to repeat itself, cycle after cycle as the “wheel” turns each age. The only inhabitants of this magical realm who seem able to exert any control over the fate the wheel has laid out for them are the Aes Sedai.

The Aes Sedai are a group of women able to channel the magic of the “one power” to do incredible things.

The Aes Sedai are split into factions (ajahs) denoted by their color. Each faction slightly different in their methodology, beliefs, and purpose.

Each Aes Sedai has a male guardian, a warder, assigned to her. They are bonded to each other till death. The relationships are complicated, and while they are reciprocal in many ways, the warders are subordinate.

In ages past, there were male Aes Sedai who could also wield the one power. Theirs was slightly different than that wielded by the women.

Opposite powers but complimentary, male and female, yin and yang. But at some point ages ago, the male side screwed it up and broke the world. Now, the women are left with the pieces, trying to hold it all together.

The Aes Sedai of the red ajah do not have male warders. Their mission is to root out men who may try to channel the one power.

Any man who tries to wield the one power will cause chaos and destruction. Reaching out to the source of the one power will, in time, drive a man to madness.

The women of the red ajah find these men and “gentle” them.  Cutting off their ability to touch the source so that they won’t cause any harm. The men still end up going mad.

Some Aes Sedai, particularly of the blue ajah, believe in a profecy of the dragon reborn. A man who will be able to channel the one power and will restore the world from it’s broken state and win the eternal battle against the dark one.

This was the back story given in the Amazon Prime show and tracks fairly well with the books.

The world created by Jordan and the characters that populate it are rich and enticing. 

Both the books, and especially the show, have a significant feminine lean. Men break the world. Men cannot control the one power. Women are the saviors. “Gentling” bears a striking resemblance to castration. I was worried this would put me off, but i was pleasantly surprised.

The warders seem to be excellent male role models. The main characters who are male while still defering to the Aes Sedai, are anything but subordinate.

Lan, one of the warders, is training Rand, a simple sheep herder but also the dragon reborn, in swordsmanship. The scene has them practicing atop a castle tower, with the warder getting the best of the sheep herder and talking to him about the challenges that lie ahead of him.

“There is one rule, above all others, for being a man. Whatever comes, face it on your feet. “

The scene came right at the end of the chapter, and it just hit me a special kind of way.

Maybe it was that I wasn’t expecting much in the way of masculine advice based on my experience thus far with the show and the first book.

Maybe it was the elegance and simplicity of the statement and the stoic and thoughtful nature of the character it was coming from.

Maybe it was the added irony from my time in Jui Jistu, where I face obstacles sitting on my butt or laying on my back.

Whatever it was, the scene, the quote, the moment created in the story, it felt significant. It resonated with me beyond just a story in a book.

The past few months have come with no shortage of challenges. I haven’t always risen to them in the way I would like. But  I haven’t run from them either.

Some of my proudest moments, after the happy events of life and the triumphs and successes, have been some of my failures.

Not because of the failures themselves, but because of the way I was able to face the failure. To own it. To feel it. To grow out of it and through it.

Just like a triathlon, you put one foot in front of the other and keep going.  Sitting down doesn’t get you any closer to the finish line, and there is no one coming to get you.

I wrote in this post about The Martian. You solve one problem, then the next, if you solve enough problems, you get to go home.

I think that is what Lan is trying to say. You don’t take whatever life throws at you lying down. Stay on your feet,  nimble, agile, ready to adjust course.  If nothing else, you go down swinging.

It’s easy to feel helpless. It’s easy to feel like you are steering into uncharted waters with strange currents. It’s easy to feel ineffective.

I hope that I can show my boys the alternative.  Demonstrate for them Lan’s first rule of manhood. Cultivate in them,  the attitude and ability to face the many challenges of life on their feet.

Find your footing, dig in your heels, put on a brave face for what may come. There is surely serenity in taking charge of your own destiny.

Thanks for joining me,  stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Mistakes

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. In the last few months, I’ve been reading more about investing (as well as watching old seasons of ‘billions’ on Prime video), and I wanted to share something that stuck out to me.

I came across this quote from Warren Buffet from his 2023 Berkshire Hathaway investor meeting. It reminded me of advice that my mom has been giving me for the last three decades.

“Thanks to the American tailwind and the power of compound interest, the arena in which we operate has been – and will be – rewarding if you make a couple of good decisions during a lifetime and avoid serious mistakes.”

From the investing standpoint, you want to maximize your upside potential, while also minimizing your downside risk. The problem is, those two things are often not possible simultaneously. Generally speaking, in order to have a large potential, the risk is inherently greater.

Making a mistake in that risk/reward equation, or in the way you evaluate an investment, will have monetary consequences.  If you can learn to impartially evaluate those mistakes, to make sure they are small mistakes, not life changing ones, there are incredible lessons to be found.

If you can learn from those lessons and at the same time avoid the big mistakes, you are probably going to pretty well for yourself. In investing and in life.

Mistake in this context casts a very wide net. It can be moving your body incorrectly, and having a jui jitsu move not work.  It can also be moving your body incorrectly, having a jui jitsu move not work while also tearing your knee apart. The tricky part about a lot of mistakes, is that it is hard to fully comprehend the potential outcomes before you are already committed.

Mistakes are an interesting subject. They are a critical part of the learning curve.  Our brain needs to understand the wrong way to do something (the mistake) in order to properly wire in the correct process.  Small mistakes create neuroplasticity and learning.

As long as those mistakes are not catastrophic, they are an important part of the process. (Doing the BJJ move wrong 5 times before getting it right the 6th, while avoiding that whole tearing your knee apart thing)

But what about mistakes of omission, or mistakes of substitution? What we’ve talked about so far is investing in the wrong company or moving our body in the wrong way.  What about things we opt not to do, or things we should do that are replaced with so thing else?

We all know we should eat healthy and move more. Skipping your morning workout or walk and replacing it with idle scrolling would hardly be a “serious mistake” in the sense that Buffet or my mother cautioned about. 

That kind of choice, (replacing healthy movement with idle screen time) certainly wouldn’t have the catastrophic effect of tearing apart your knee or drastically altering your family finances.

But, what happens when that small mistake becomes a habit.  When momentum shifts from healthy choices to frivolous ones.

I’ll admit I’ve felt a bit stuck in this loop.  Building momentum in healthy habits, only to falter back into less productive choices. What is the cost of these mistakes? Are there enough good choices and tailwind to stay ahead of the consequences?

The magic of compounding is dispassionate and directionless. It can work for you just as easily as it can work against you. How long before those small mistakes compound into a serious one?

Most small mistakes, especially in a first world country, are relatively harmless. They are also easily dismissed, and almost mindless.  It is precisely these qualities that make them so dangerous.  You ingest the poison without any immediate or significant consequence. By the time the dosage has built up it is too late.

As I write this on my phone, I know that the same device is a large source of my small mistakes.  Rushing back for innocent seeming dopamine hits, while neglecting the things that truly matter.

Worse still, my limited ability to recognize this mistake. My occasional stumblings into a more mindful existence, leave me feeling ashamed and guilty rather than refreshed and relieved.

I know that this is a natural human tendency to focus on the negative over the positive. To be ashamed of the mistake rather than celebrate the recognition and correction of it.  Again, a loop I am often stuck in.

But that’s the battle right. To identify those mistakes. To fight in order to shift the focus from the guilt to the mindful acceptance. To take advantage of the compounding and the tailwinds on good habits.

Avoid the big mistakes. Cut off the loop on the small ones. Establish habits that can take advantage of the magic of compounding. And, maybe find some serenity in the process.

Thanks for joining me. Stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Results

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.  This week is want to talk about results.  Or, more specifically, a result oriented versus process oriented paradigm.

I recently competed in the IBJJF Pan championships.  In the the world of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu in the gi, this is considered a grand slam event.

People travel from all over the world to compete and watch this tournament.  It just so happens to take place right in my backyard. It also happens to take place during spring break time when I had time off work.

It seemed silly, given those factors, not to sign up and compete. Even though I knew I would be unable to train and prepare to the full extent I wanted to, I signed up for the competition with high expectations.

Having competed the previous year losing my first match 0-0 via a referee decision, I went into this tournament hoping to improve on my performance but also on my results. Two very distinct categories.

I wasn’t unhappy with my performance from last year, but the results were definitely a gut check.  They led to a reassessment of my training and preparation.

This year I signed up for a smaller local competition a month before Pans.  I wanted to get a more recent reminder of the competitive atmosphere in my memory than the previous loss at last year’s Pans.  I wrote about that tournament here.

Through a freak accident to the wrestling coach at our gym, I ended up taking over teaching the class.  This meant not only more reps and training, but also much more time thinking about the wrestling and takedown aspects of BJJ competition.

I also took over teaching the Gi class that I normally attended since that instructor had moved out of the country.

Again, this meant a lot more mental preparation and thinking about techniques, even if the amount of time spent physically training was less than I would have wanted it to be.

I felt good going in to Pans. Mentally strong. Physically strong. I had a solid three plus weeks of very clean eating and living in order to get down to the lightweight limit. A roughly 10 pound drop from my normal walking around weight.

I arrived to the convention center early so I could have a long, low, and slow warmup.  Waking up the body and the mind, as much as working out the nervous energy, I jumped right out of my jump rope. After about an hour of watching matches and intermittantly jumping, the set screw gave way, and one of the rope ends flew right out of the handle.  It was strangely self gratifying in my ability to outlast the equipment.

I made my way to the weigh in and the fighter holding pen.  Mutch different from my wrestling days, weigh-ins are immediately prior to your match as opposed to first thing in the morning. The fighter pen is a small cattle herd of metal barricades, keeping in the nervous energy and testosterone, jittering bouncing and going over final preparations for the combat ahead.

I felt the anxiety of the impending competition. Those familiar butterflies in my stomach, even after all the years of grappling.  If that feeling is no longer present, I will have to rethink further competition.

Like I have done before every wrestling or BJJ match I can remember, I started my final warmup with an our father prayer. I followed that with my own prayer to wrestle 6 minutes hard. 6 minutes strong. 6 minutes smart. 6 minutes safe.  To have a performance that I can be proud of, and that my family can be proud of. To be gracious in victory or defeat. To keep myself and my competitors free from injury.

My name was called along with my opponent for the first match. We shook hands and hugged before walking to the mats. 

I bounced and stretched at the mats edge, trying to clear my mind, creating a blank canvas for the match ahead.

I’ve written before about the special place that competitive athletic endeavors have for me. Like walking through a portal, I feel transported. Stepping onto the mat, for those five minutes, (high-school wrestling matches are six and my prayer has not been updated, better to err on the long side anyway) everything else fades away. The canvas is blank to create a piece of art and tell a story, together with my opponent, without any of our other baggage.

We stood wrestling for the first two minutes or so of the match.  I felt I had the upper hand with takedowns and pressed my advantage. After a few near takedowns, I saw my opponent gasp for a deep breath and change his stance and posture. I knew my next shot would be successful.

After scoring the takedown, I followed my game plan and won the match on top, threatening to pass his guard and attack his left arm.  The match went about as well as I could have hoped for and I advanced to the quarter finals.

I had plenty of time to catch my breath, stretch, and recover before being called up for my next match.  Again, I shook hands and hugged my opponent before walking from the pen to the mats.

Already in a better spot than I was the previous year, I knew winning this match would see me on the podium.  That was the goal I had set for this competition, make the podium.

The match started similar to the first. We wrestled standing for a minute or so were I felt I had an advantage.  My opponent recognized this and pulled guard.

We ended up in his 50/50 guard, a leg entanglement where our respective right legs are interlaced, knees to knee with him laying on his back and me standing.

Speedy and I with a special treat

It is a difficult position to get out of, and comes with the risk of an easy transition from bottom to top.  That would give my opponent 2 points for a sweep and in all likelihood a deficit that would be hard to overcome.

I pressed forward, testing the flexibility of his hip and the strength of his lock on the other leg. With enough pressure I could break the lock and potentially attack the knee.  I had to be careful to keep my balance, falling backward even if i stayed on top could give my opponent  and advantage point that would be hard to overcome.

At one point, I was able to break the lock of his legs and press forward. He recovered, but i felt i was making progress. Before I knew it, the match was over.

0-0 no advantage points given.  Under the circumstances, the match would be decided by the referee.  My opponent won the referee’s decision.

To say I was disappointed by the results would be an understatement. It is hard to walk away with a loss, without feeling like you were beaten.  It is a confusing mental space.

In contrast, I was happy with my performance. I was aggressive. I didn’t make any tactical or strategic mistakes. Every position I found myself in, I had a clear mental path forward. I was gracious in victory and in defeat.

I’m still not sure how to process the outcome.  It isn’t a win, but it doesn’t feel like a loss either. Complaining isn’t helpful, nor is beating myself up or second guessing my performance. There are always areas to improve upon, but there was no glaring hole in my game that was exposed by those two matches.

I’m trying instead to shift focus away from the result, and back to the process.  I have much more control over the latter than the former.

Focusing on the process is something I can change. I can take the frustration over the results and direct it somewhere positive. There are levers that can be pulled and dials that can be turned.  The results, are what they are, and revisiting them is unproductive.

I can continue to work on my wrestling in the gi, not giving my opponents the chance to pull guard, or forcing them to do so from a place of weakness.

I can continue to develop a style that is aggressive and attacking.  I can work to improve positions where I find myself stuck.  I can find additional time to train, and prioritize bjj as i approach competitions in the future.

I’m disappointed with the results,  but I’m content with my preparation and performance.  Resetting my focus back to the process has brought some much needed serenity in the face of uncertainty over those results.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Memory

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I was recently listening to an episode of the human performance outliers podcast (HPO) with arctic explorer, Akshay Nanavati. He said shared some powerful advice that I wanted to explore and pass along to you.

Akshay has already tackled some incredible feats in his exploration career, and is getting ready for his biggest one yet. Before he was an endursnce athlete and an explorer Akshay served as a marine in Iraq.

After leaving the service he found ultra running and transitioned form their into arctic exploration type endurance challenges. 

Clearly, this man knows a thing or two about going to the pain cave. About how to be comfortable there, and how to come out without the physical, mental, or emotional scaring that so often accompanies those visits.

He was speaking with host Zach Bitter about his preparations for the first attempt at a solo crossing of Antarctica without a kite.

He is hoping to complete the project in 110 days. That is longer than the support staff for Antarctica explorations normally stays there. The exploration “season” is normally 90 ish days.

So Ashkay will carry everything he needs to survive alone in Antarctica, and drag it on a sled across the continent by himself for almost four months.

Four months or solitude, and empty white nothingness. Accompanied by dragging a 400lb sled 15ish miles a day before making camp in a hellish climate and landscape.

Ashkay talked about how he is preparing for this epic adventure, both physically and mentally. One of the things he talked about was deliberate marking and repressing of memories.

Memories are tricky things. Sometimes we remember what we want to. So.etimes we remember only the most vivid or explosion or emotional part of a much fuller experience.

Ashkay talked about deliberately branding memories. Making a point to bookmark events as they were happening so that he could lean on them at a later date.

He went on to describe a particularly challenging night of arctic camping. How he was not enjoying himself, feeling the self doubt creeping in, but decided instead, to mark the memory as one he could look back on with a positive mindset on his upcoming expedition.

It reminded me of cleaning airplanes…

Before I started flying private planes I was working as a flight instructor and got a job at a charter company cleaning and fueling airplanes, and generally helping out with whatever else I could. This was in the hopes that at some point I would be able to fly the same airplanes I was polishing and vacuuming.

Right around the same time, (late 2000’s), Darius Rucker, formerly of Hootie and the blowfish, was blowing up in a solo country singer spot.  His number one song that year was “history in the making”

“This could be, one of those memories, we want to hold on to, and cling to, the one we can’t forget”

The song would be all over the radio that played in the hangar while I was working. Often late at night after all the flights had returned for the day.  His deep southern drawl would draw you in, but with just enough rough edges to make you feel like he could be sweeping the hanger floor and dripping sweat while cleaning an airplane bathroom with you.

I remember those night, all alone in the hangar, drenched in sweat with planes left to clean, thinking, this is a memory I will look back on. This isn’t fun in and of itself, but it is important. It is helping me to get where I want to go, and do the things I ultimately want to do.

Like Ashkay and Darius so eloquently say, those memories, even of an insignificant or less than pleasant event, can be bookmarked and returned to as a source of pleasure, pride, and motivation.

It is hard enough to just be present. It is even harder to be present in a difficult moment. Harder still to earmark that moment as something to look back on fondly.

Difficulty is not without its rewards. There is serenity to be found in the challenge. What history are you making? Will you be present to bookmark it appropriately and revist it?

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Change

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week, I want to talk about change, how we are the most adaptable creatures on the planet, and at the same time, are incredibly resistant to change.

It has been longer than I like since my last post, but as you know, life has a a tendency to get in the way.

El Duderino had his second cataract removal surgery this month, which saw me home with him helping him recover. By helping him recover, I mean making sure he gets all the requisite eye drops in. Sometimes, that done with a gentle hand and a gentle word. Other times, it was my best grappling skills to stabilize bodied in a pacifying manner.

The surgery went well, and El Duderino is on his way to a bright new future, quite literally. In the days immediately after the surgery though, he refused to open his eyes. Both the recently operated on eye, as well as the already recovered eye.

The first day after surgery is crucial for examination, I’m told. So much so, that the eye Dr asked about putting him under anesthesia a second time if she was unable to examine the eye.

It took every ounce of physical and emotional strength I had to hold him down the day after surgery. Squirming and screaming in the eye doctor’s chair, he was adamant on not opening his eyes.

Outside of normal human functions, breathing, moving, talking, the one activity I have spent more of my life doing than anything else, is forcibly controlling bodies. I felt uniquely qualified for this task, in spite of the emotional toll it took on me.

It didn’t occur to me that this change would be so jarring for him. I don’t know what his vision was before. I don’t really know what it is now. We have metrics that we can assign to vision, and those metrics have improved. But his lived experience, even as a very articulate six year old, is very hard to discern.

Going from a cloudy field of vision, to a clear field of vision, even with a brief hiatus in recovery seemed like it should be a good change. One to be welcomed and embraced. Instead, he retreated. He stayed in a self imposed darkness for almost three full days.

We were able to pry his eye open safely the day after surgery. Every other attempt to get him to open his eyes over the next three days was unsuccessful. Look, your favorite show is on TV, “no thanks”. Can you help me pick out some cookies to share with our friends? “Maybe you can just tell me about them”.

I’m not sure what he was thinking or feeling. The most I was able to get out of him was, “it feels funny when I open it”

And still, after the third day, his eyes opened, like it had never happened. He adapted to his new reality. How can we as a species be both so stubborn and so adaptable?

I’ve been doing a lot more grappling in the past few months as I transition out of triathlon season. I’ve also tried to train at different gyms across the country as I travel, preparing for an upcoming competition.

I was recently training at a 10th planet gym, known for their unorthodox no gi style, especially their guard. The head instructor commented that I had one of the best “wrestler guards” he had seen in a while.

Wrestlers are programmed from day one not to go to their back. I heard Daniel Cormier (UFC double champ and Olympic wrestler) recently say he can’t sleep on his back without having nightmares, a sentiment I had during my high-school wrestling days as well.

As I have transitioned to BJJ over the last decade, I have made a concerted effort to play guard and feel comfortable off my back. At this point, most of my training time is spent there, fighting from my back, or at least the bottom position.

I have adapted extremely well to the new rule set and strategy of Jiu Jitsu. And yet, at this latest competition, I found myself stubbornly insisting on wrestling, despite almost none of my training and preparation for this competition, including wrestling of any sort.

Like a small child with my eyes closed, I clung to what was familiar, shaying away from a change that had already happened. A change that has made me better.

It is difficult in the heat of the moment to embrace the new game plan and not revert to the comfort of old patterns. I’ve done a great job making this change in the gym, but have yet to see that transition fully materialize in competition.

Adaptable and stubborn. Embracing change, and simultaneously rejecting it. Hiding from it. Eyes closed curled up under the blanket.

As the saying goes, the only constant, is change. We are incredibly adaptable creatures, and there is serenity to be found in embracing that change.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Heart

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.

Sometimes, you find words that just hit you the right way. Maybe a song, maybe a line from a book or a movie.

The words can be incredibly powerful in their own right. Or, it can be a confluence of events, mood, vibe, context, that enhance the power of the message.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past two days. What is it that makes the same words, the same message, so powerful?

It isn’t some magic spell, that when uttered, affects everyone uniformly. But there is something there. A motivational quote or a song that can give you an extra push, an extra gear.

I had just finished my morning swim in the pool on the twenty fourth floor of my hotel.  Swimming indoors is already something of a strange feeling. The thick fog blanketing the streets of Houston and obscuring most of the floor to ceiling pool deck windows made it feel alien.

I still had my goggles lightly perched above my brow, and my waterproof swim headphones in, when I climbed into the hot tub.  I fiddled with the strap on the back of my head so I could lay my neck into the crook in the corner of the hot tub paver stone floor.

I instantly relaxed as I sprawled out. My arms and shoulders floating in the steamy water, welcoming stillness after exertion.

My eyes closed as the song started to wash over me. “Somewhere in middle America. When you get to the heart of the matter, it’s the heart that matters more”

I hadn’t heard the counting crows song in quite a while.  The music downloaded onto my waterproof swim music player is something of a time capsule. Closed and sealed somewhere after the fall of Napster, but before the rise of Spotify.

The next day, on my long layover in Albany, it was time to revisit my slightly stupid holiday tradition. For the 12th year in a row, it was time for the Christmas half marathon.

I queued up the live album to start my treadmill run in the dingy hotel fitness center, knowing I would need more than a little heart to get me through.

This tradition has come to mean a lot of things to me.  One year it was a time to grieve after a loved one had passed. Another year, it was an ill advised death march, when I knew I was sick, and pushed on anyway.  It has been a welcome adventure in new towns, and it has been a stale and stagnant trot on hotel treadmills.

Endurance sport, especially this particular event, has a lot to offer in the form of self exploration.  What I kept coming back to this year is that emotions are not linear and rarely predictable.

I think it was Yogi Berra, who said predictions are hard especially about the future.  Here is one prediction that isn’t so hard. Almost every endurance event will have some sort of low point, some place of self doubt or questioning.

You start to ask yourself, “Why am I doing this?”  No one else is here, no one really cares, you can stop the treadmill now and get on with your day.

Humans tend to forecast current conditions out into the future, even when there isn’t great evidence to support that trend line.  Look at the housing crisis of 2008 and the inflation that has plagued the past few years.  We think things will continue on just the way they are, in spite of changing conditions, until we are smacked in the face with change.

It is especially easy to get into this mental space with some miles behind you and some fatigue in your legs. You start to think, “if I feel this bad after (however man) miles, how am I going to make it the rest of the way?”

If running got me feeling this way and thinking this way, how is more running possibly going to make me feel better?

And yet somehow, like those magic words, or songs, that have the power to change our state of mind, pushing through can make you feel better.

I was struggling around the hour mark at just under 8 miles in. I slowed my pace to a brisk walk and took the opportunity to talk to my wife and kids who had called to check in. Finishing was never in doubt, but the shape those last 5 or so miles would take was still to be determined.

Before our quick conversation had even ended, I found myself pushing the pace wheel on the treadmill back up.

I worked my way back towards my target pace while still continuing our quick Christmas conversation.

It is a strange thing, that an endurance event isnt linear. That there will be highs and lows, ups and downs, while covering the miles. But thats a lot like life. Its not predictable. It’s not linear. It depends a lot on the mindset you are willing to approach it with.

And, when you get to the heart of the matter, it’s the heart that matter more.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe, and stay sweaty my friends.

The Martian

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I have not been writing nearly as much as I would like to lately. Life has a tendency to get in the way.

This time of year with holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and the extra curveball life always has in store, often leaves me feeling overwhelmed.

There are some aspects of my life, compartmentalized away, where I am very disciplined. Others however, to include writing, have yet to become a permanant fixture, I find that I am wont to revert back to less engaging activities when i ought to be writing instead.

So it was, that I found myself watching Interstellar for the first time on a long deadhead flight from LAX to ATL. I found the fatherly dynamic of the movie extremely touching. The contrast in Matt Damon’s characters from the Martian to Interstellar, is a great comparison of the spectrum of human problem response.

No spoilers here, even though both movies have been out for quite a while, but Mark Whatney (Matt Damon in the Martian) meets his problems head on, whereas his Interstellar counterpart (Dr. Mann) has a much more defeatist attitude.

Being stranded on Mars with not enough food or supplies, and little hope of rescue is obviously a very dire situation. Much more serious than nearly everything we experience in our daily lives. Yet our brain has a hard time recognizing scale and amplitude without context.

The worst thing that has ever happened to you is the worst thing that has ever happened to you. Whether that is being marooned on an alien planet, or if you spilled coffee on your new shirt. The brain makes assessments on past experiences, not on absolute spectrums.

Fostering an environment of controlled and risk minimal discomfort, can help us recognize where unexpected problems actually fall on that spectrum. It can also help us remain calm and analytical while assessing those problems.

Aviation, parenting, and Jui jitsu all fall into these categories. Maybe that is why I like them so much.

They all present complex.problwms that need to be solved. Some of them may seem overwhelming, or too big to take on. Sometimes it isn’t the size of the problem, but the long list of small problems that never seems to shrink.

Like our space pirate friend said, you get to work. You solve one problem and then the next. If you solve enough problems, you get to go home.

There are a lot of similarities to this philosophy in the aviation world. We have a systematic approach to analyzing our situation, and then working through problems as the arise until reaching a logical conclusion.

These past few weeks, I have summoned my inner Mark Watney more than a few times. You have a plan for how the day is going to go, and it starts going sideways. It is easy to be overwhelmed by the growing tower of problems that need to be solved, tasks that need to be accomplished.

Or you can get to work, one problem at a time. And if you solve enough problems, complete enough tasks, you get to go home.

Jui Jitsu is at its core problem solving. You give your opponent a problem. Theh responds and give you a problem right back. Whoever is unable to solve the problem and respond ends up submitting. Problem solving, with potentially deadly consequences, but in a controlled and risk mitigated environment.

Sometimes, you don’t have the solution readily available. You may have some ideas, theories, guesses, about how to tackle the situation. That leaves you with an uncertain outcome.

That’s where the science comes in. You make a hypothesis. You test it. You gather the information. You analyze the data. Rinse and repeat.

This way of thinking. This way of approaching life’s problems has compounded over generations to change the way we live our lives.

Even if you don’t work in the “sciences,” you can easily see how this philosophy plays out on the mats, or with your kids.

Control the variables you can, make a hypothesis, test it. Collect the data, and go back and try it again. Maybe you break the cycle of submitting (on the mats or with the kids, I still tap early and often.)

If you science the shit out of it, and solve enough problems, you get to go home, where you will likely find some serenity.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Prompt

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog.

AI has been in the news quite a bit recently with the continuing advancement of ChatGPT and the drama surrounding its upper management.

I came across some of the grassroots origin of AI, in the form of computational linguistics, while continuing research on my communications project.

I am far from a subject matter expert on AI, language, or communication, but here is my two cents nonetheless. And, you should take it, we are due for a recession anyway.

Computational linguistics really began as a field before it ever had a chance. By that I mean the right tools for the job hadn’t even been invented yet.

ChatGPT and other Large Language Models, LLM’s, require enormous datasets and computing power. Before the internet, and the personal computer, this meant manual entry and analysis of all those words.

The LLMs function less by looking at the “rules of language”, and more by analyzing the likelihood of what the answer should be based on existing information.

From the analysis on computational linguistics, “Members of the IBM research team flaunted their ignorance of linguistics as if to taunt the other researchers. Fred Jelinek is famously quoted as saying, ‘Every time I fire a linguist from our project, the performance of our system gets better’

I think the easiest way to think about these LLM’s is as probability engines. This work was pioneered by Claude Shannon (whose work I have covered in quite a few other posts)

The LLM absorbs and analyzes a huge amount of data. An unimaginable amount of data. Think about reading the entire contents of the internet. Every tweet, every news article, every blog. Then statistically analyzing all those words to look for patterns.

From a previous post covering the work of Shannon, “As Shannon showed, this model also describes the behavior of messages and languages. Whenever we communicate, rules everywhere restrict our freedom to choose the next letter and the next pineapple*” “Because you’re completely aware of those rules, you’ve already recognized that ‘pineapple’ is a transmission error. Given the way the paragraph and the sentence were developing, practically the only word possible in that location was ‘word’ “

When Shannon completed his mathematical theory of communication, the internet wasn’t even a pipe dream, and he did a tremendous amount of work developing the earliest computers.

His theories and ideas, though, would pave the way for how these LLMs operate. They look for patterns by searching and analyzing all of the current written work on a topic. They then recombine words in a statistically viable way to answer questions

You can debate whether or not this constitutes, learning, or understanding, or consciousness, but that’s not really the point. It is here now, in this current form, and it can be an extremely useful tool. It can also spit out unintelligible garbage. So how do you engage with LLMs in a way that is useful and productive?

I think the answer has already been covered in the AI action warning movie Irobot. “My responses are limited, you must ask the right questions”

In this light, the rise of ChatGPT and other LLMs has led to the creation of a new host of jobs, one of which is the prompt engineer.

I first heard about the prompt engineer from episode 556 of the freakonomics podcast.

Prompt engineers discern what it is that their customer wants, and then find a way to effectively communicate that to the LLM.

Asking the right questions, adding the right context and constraints, make all the difference. If you think about it, the same concept applies to communicating with our kids. Or with other adults who may be operating outside their area of expertise.

If you want your five year old to do something, you need to set up some guideraills, and provide clear expectations. If you want a coworker to complete a new task, you need to provide the context and desired outcome, in order to get the finished product you want.

LLMs function much like the very intelligent five year old. You can be amazed what they are able to produce if given the right prompt.

Sometimes, it is hard to know what exactly we want. It is even harder to find the right combination of words to effectively transmit that want to someone else. Asking the right questions, setting the right context and guardrails, can help us in the endeavor. Finding the right prompt, might just lead to some serenity.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

October sky

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I was fortunate enough to have a long layover last week where I could see my dad.

We spent most of the visit alone, in our respective tree stands. Although no meat was harvested, I think it was a refreshing and rejuvenating day in the woods.

Our respective tree stands were a short hike, up a very steep hill, to the top of the ridgeline. Even at the top of the hill, we were still only five minutes from home and still had cell service. A pretty great place to be hunting.

It was nice to be able to communicate between the stands. We can let each other know when we saw something and which way it was moving.

We were also able to talk about some of the projects he is working on. He moved into this fixer upper farmhouse about six years ago, and there is always something that needs doing.

From new outbuildings, a new deck, tractor maintenance and repair, there are always lots of projects going on.

His skid steer tractor was down with a broken bearing issue. He had ordered a custom made housing, but it had not been made to his desired specifications.

He would send a text with an idea to fix or make use of the existing part. I would ask questions from my admitidly very limited knowledge base of the problem. Eventually he came up with what he thought was a working solution. He would have to fabricate another part, to use in conjunction with the misformed ordered part.

The whole process made me think of October Sky. How easy it is to burn things down or break them, and how much harder it is to make them. The generational differences of those that grew up making more than obtaining.

October Sky is a 1999 movie featuring Jake Gyllenhaal as a west virginia coal miner’s son Homer Hickam. Based on a true story, Homer is inspired by the launch of Sputnik to pursue amateur rocketry. He ultimately gets out of the coal town on a college scholarship, and ultimately works as a NASA engineer.

Homer starts by blowing up the new picket fence in his front yard. Next he almost hurts several people with a rogue rocket. His father tells him no more rockets on the company property.

Since the mining company owns the whole town, Homer and his friends walk 9 miles each way to get to the town limits where they can launch their home made rockets.

A helpful union machinist tells them their lower quality steel is the cause of their rockets losing launch velocity. He is happy to show them how to order the steel from a catalog and how to machine it and shape it.

In order to scrape together the money for the new steel, Homer and his friends take rail road track off an abandoned section to sell them for scrap.

Standard track in the US varies between 60 and 130 lbs/ft with the standard track pieces coming in at 4 ft 8.5 inches. Since it is a coal mining town I’m assuming they were on the higher end of the spectrum. That means each piece weighed upwards of 600 pounds.

These high school kids were pulling up 600 lb hunks of steel to sell for scrap, ordering their raw materials from a paper catalog, then machining and hand building their own parts, so they could walk 9 miles outside of town to actually use them.

I’m worried my five year old will soon figure out how to use alexa to start ordering toys directly to the house.

What a difference in cultural expectations in the lifetime of just a single person (1957 sputnik launch to today). If you wanted something, you had to learn about it. You had to build it.

This generation is incredibly creative. Building with digital code is still building. Creating digital content is still creating. But, I wonder how much we have lost by diverging away from the path of physical, tangible creation?

I’m reminded of this tanguble building spirit every time I visit my dad. I get to see what he creates both at home and through his work. It is an inspiring trait I hope to emulate and pass on the the next generation of men in our family.

Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.

Another layover in Roanoke, and another switchback run up mill mountain.