Fatherhood – Serenity Through Sweat

But will there be cookies?

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This month, I want to talk about a topic that is a little heavier than normal.

In the last four months, my boys and I have been to two family memorial services.

Death is never an easy topic to talk about. Maybe western culture has made it too taboo. Regardless of your views, that conversational conundrum compounds when the kiddos are involved.

I tried to frame the entire event as a support and celebrate operation. We are here to support our family and celebrate the life of our dearly departed loved one.

That sounds great on paper but it doesn’t really mean a lot to a 5 and 8 year old. Their idea of support is when I help them clean up their toys, and it isn’t really a celebration if there isnt some sort of sweetened baked good.

In reality, just their presence is supportive. Maybe even more so at their age. Their unbridled happiness is a reminder that life goes on.

The pure radiance in a child’s undisturbed play and laughter, especially outside that kind of event, takes the edge off more than any Irish wake ever could.

And of course, those sneaky giggles and innocent smiles, warm even the hardest hearts, especially when they are trying to sneak their third or fourth cookie after being told two was plenty.

When the boys and I visited buffalo in the fall for my grandfather’s memorial, the boys didn’t really know what to expect.

They had never been to a memorial before. They had maybe met my grandfather on that side once or twice, but certianly not enough to have memories or attachments.

Most of the cousins and family they are more used to seing wouldn’t be in attendance.

Still, they made friends, played nicely, if a little rough as boys are wont to do, and their presence was comforting to everyone.

When it came time to tell them about the second memorial service, I was a little more apprehensive. This time would be in sarasota, for someone they had never met, and with no cousins.

Their first question, “but will there be cookies?”

For them that was what mattered. That was what they associated with memorial services. That was their only experience, and that was what they knew.

I think that’s an important thing to reflect on. On the surface it may seem shallow and juvenile. Which of course it is.

Speedy and El Duderino are 5 and 8 and cookies are much easier and more attractive than reflecting on our mortality.

But, death has a way of shaking things up. Clouding our judgements and emotions. Like a snow globe, the perfect setting can be easily obscured and there is nothing to do but let time take its course, and wait for things to settle.

And, when it does settle, things are still very much as the were before the globe was so violently shaken. provided of course the shaking didn’t break the whole thing.

For the boys, in a strange place, shaken with a turbulent storm of unfamiliar people and emotions, the beautiful back drop for them was cookies.

Of course Heather and I were there, with them and for them. But kids take that for granted. As all of us do until our parents are gone, but especially young kids. But the cookies, that was the special part. That was the connection there brains attached to the event.

As parents, we do the best we can for our kids. We get to make things special. We try to impart values and meaning in things to raise then into strong and loving humans. But, despite our best efforts, we don’t get to pick what sticks.

We don’t get to decide what is impactful for others, we only have that decision for ourselves. We can certainly influence it. We can lay all the dominoes out and hope they fall as planned. But the ultimate decision of what sticks, lies with each individual.

For Speedy and El Duderino, I guess that makes me think about the little things. It’s really easy to get caugt up in the turbulence of the snow globe. Understandably so.

It’s also easy, once the dust has settled, to focus on the centerpiece. The natural point your attention is drawn to inside the globe.

But as the boys showed me, sometimes, the smallest, almost overlooked detail, can bring the most serenity.

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

Play

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’m sitting in the back of an airplane, hoping to make it home in time to participate in my first BJJ belt promotion ceremony as a black belt.

A few weeks ago I was able to watch Speedy at his first belt ceremony, where two young men recieved their black belts.

Speedy is one of the youngest and smallest in his karate class, but he is fierce.

As he was given his orange striped belt and asked to move out of the basic skills class and up into the beginners class, his instructor said something that caught my attention.

He was praising Speedy for his focus and dedication. He was impressed with his skill and that for such a young student he recognized that he was there to train and to learn, not to play.

Obviously these were all desireable qualities and I am very proud of Speedy as I watch him on his martial arts journey.

Thise comments though, stood out to me so much, because just that same morning, at my 6:30am BJJ class, I very distinctly told some of my training partners “I’m just here to play”

While the two sentiments are in obvious conflict with each other, I think there is room for both of us to be right.

I have a lot of respect for all of the coaches that are working with Speedy. They have all proven to be extremely knowledgeable, good communicators, and personable with a wide range of kids of varying ages, athletic potential, and focus.

And many of the students, especially the younger ones, will result to play as their default setting. Who can blame them. They are on mats, wearing silly outfits and boxing gloves, there are punching bags, gym equipment, hula hoops, and pool noodles around. It looks like a place to play. And at that age, play should be the default mode.

And while play is a great way to learn, you need to understand some basic guidelines before learning is effective much less efficient.

Think about playing a board game. You don’t learn the game by reading the rules. You learn by playing. The strategy, the tactics, the nuance, all come from playing.

But if you dont read the rules first, you might not even know what the pieces do, how to set up, or what the turns or steps of the game are.

There is some front loaded focus and discipline, that is required in order to take advantage of that play learning.

That cycle repeats itslef. You need to focus and study a new technique, and then you need to play with it to really learn and undertand it.

The bigger a foundation of knowledge and skill you build through focus and discipline, the more the ratio can shift towards play.

Since I have spent more than thirty years on the mats, I have a lot to draw on. Unless I am specifically training for a competition I mostly just play.

As an adult (or psuedo peter pan type adult) I think that mindset is more important than ever.

Despite my best efforts, my default mode is not play. And, I would be willing to bet, that I am still far closer to the play end of the spectrum than many other adults (psuedo peter pan or otherwise).

Whenever it is time for the sparring or live rolling part of a Jui Jitsu class, I try to be respectful of my fellow classmates needs.

I always start by asking if there is anything they want to work on, a technique, a position, or anything they want to get out of their training.

Very few take me up on the offer and I am delighted to offer whatever knowledge I can when they do.

When they don’t, we slap hands, and I get to play.

I already know the rules. The patterns and movements feel like a well worn trail. Sometimes, something new might pop up, like pushing through the tall grass off to the side of that well worn trail.

Maybe it leads to a whole new place, or maybe it just follows parallel alongside before rejoining the path later on.

Regardless of whether the path is well worn or rough trod, it is a playful exploration.

Wrong size bike but a fun adventure in Traverse city

That playful exploration is rejuvenating and enlightening. I am in a better place to learn and imprint there, than any amount of laser focus.

But perhaps thats because of the years of laser focus and that foundation that has already been built.

I guess what I want Speedy and El Duderino to realize, is that both are important. And, play, even more so as you get older and are less naturally inclined towards it.

Find the time to focus. Learn, and build your foundation. But, dont forget to play and look for serenity along the way.

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

Filling in the Blanks

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’ve been slowly exposing Speedy and El Duderino to my rather eclectic taste in music (metered in at age appropriate levels, of course). I wanted to share and discuss one of those recent experiences.

“It’s stupid, contagious
To be broke and famous
Can someone please save us from punk rock 101
My Dickies your sweatbands
My spiked hair, your new vans
Let’s throw up our ‘organs’ for punk rock 101″

“Wait a minute, that’s not right. I’m pretty sure it’s “rock hands” dude. No, it’s organs. Buddy, throw up our organs doesn’t make any sense. These are rock hands, you throw them up at concerts or listening to music. I still think it’s organs.”

Above are the lyrics from Bowling For Soup’s song Punk Rock 101, followed by the exchange between El Duderino and I while singing it together in the car.

To be fair, I’m not sure I knew what rock hands were at age seven either. And, that is kinda the point. Our brains do an incredible job of filling in blanks where we have gaps.

The gaps can be visual, auditory, information, knowledge, anything. We crave a complete picture and understanding so much that we sometimes fill in those gaps unconsciously.

Such is our desire for completion, and our discomfort with incompletion, that we have evolved to make this process automatic.

I told myself this year I would try to get back in the water, and a few early season hurricanes gave me some great swell and the push I needed

El Duderino didn’t know the lyric, he had an incomplete set of information. He heard some sounds, and filled in a word he understood that matched what he heard, even if it didn’t make much sense. The brain drives us to make a complete unit rather than leave the lyric unsung.

This is not uncommon for any of us singing along in the car, (especially before the days of looking up lyrics on the internet). But, it is a much deeper phenomenon that is studied in psychology, neurology, and vision.

“Filling in” is the phenomenon where the empty space left by our physical blind spot appears to resemble the color, brightness, or texture of the surrounding area.

Each eye has a physical blind spot where the retina joins the optic nerve, and there are no photoreceptors. With both eyes open, each eye covers the other’s blind spot. But, even with one eye closed, the brain will automatically fill in the area based on what else it perceives.

(A) The blind spot. Close your left eye, gaze at the cross, and move the page toward you. At some point the black spot will disappear because it lands on your retinal blind spot. However, the red and green stripes perceptually fill into the blind space. (B) Neon spreading. The thin red lines are perceptually filled in to form an illusory pink annulus. Both rings are the same red, but they average together with their white or black backgrounds to look light or dark pink. (C) Pinna’s water color illusion. The colored lines appear to fill-in and tinge the entire regions with color.

Illusion A is a classic example. With both eyes open, you can see the black dot on the right. With one eye closed, as the black dot moves into your physical blind spot, your brain fills in the red and green stripes.

In this case the filling in is relatively harmless. El Duderino sings a funny lyric and we laugh about it.

I’m sure I’m still butchering lyrics to many of my 90s favorites and filling in what makes sense to my brain, regardless of what the artist intended.

A different kind of filling in can be a bit more problematic. Troxler’s fading is shown in the example below. Stare intently on the red dot and watch the colored ring fade away.

When steadily fixating the central dot for many seconds, the peripheral annulus will fade and will be replaced by the colour or texture of the background. Troxler’s fading

We haven’t quite pinned down the exact mechanism that causes the fading phenomenon. You can read more about it here. Basically, a lot of big words, and confusing neuro pathways to say we arent sure exactly when images get transfered at different levels to the brain, and what may disrupt those images in the transfer process.

Hearing El Duderino so clearly fall into the filling in phenomenon, I remembered learning about it in flight school.

This was an adventure. Probably a 10k worth of hiking on a bike route reported as “mostly paved”

Part of our training was on the physiology of the eyes and ears. How they work, and how they can sometimes play tricks on us.

I had never before heard of Troxler’s fading, though. It is impressive how fixating on such a small point can impact literally the entire surrounding.

Laser beam focus is super important. I wrote about that a few weeks ago. But so is being able to zoom out and see the surroundings.

One of my favorite layover trail runs in Roanoke

How often do we let ourselves lose sight of the bigger picture, letting it slowly fade while we fixate on the minutiae?

How often are we not even conscious of where our focus is being directed? What is there, lurking out in the periphery that we are missing?

I love singing in the car with the boys. I love that it gets me out of my own head and into a shared space with them. I love it even more when it can open up new realizations and learning. So throw up your ‘organs’, and don’t let yourself fixate on the wrong thing. You might miss serenity hiding in the periphery.

Continuing traing building towards IM FL 70.3

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

Make your own kind of music

It was winter break of my junior year of college, December 2007 and January 2008. I was burning the candle at both ends. Flying, studying, surfing, partying, playing ultimate Frisbee. Even youth has is limits.

I had a stress fracture in my shin and arthritis in both ankles at the ripe old age of 20.

I was laid up on the couch and my roommate had given me the first few seasons of Lost on DVD.

The rooftop from our airbnb in Marseille

This was back when we would sit down together for scheduled programming. If we were lucky, it was DVR’ed, and we could fast forward through commercials.

I was two or three seasons behind and the combination of my limited mobility and break from school made the perfect environment for a binge watch.

It’s hard to go back in time to relive the cultural phenomenon that was Lost. Game of Thrones maybe came close, but it was a different time.

The cold open of season 2 episode 1 Man of science man of faith originally aired Sep 21 2005. It brought a swift end to the cliffhanger ending from season one introducing us to Desmond Hume the sole inhabitant of the hatch.

Cathedral Notre dame and beach day in the Mediterranean

We see Desmond go through his morning routine in the isolation of the hatch while listening to “make your own kind of music” by Cass Elliot.

We also see lead character Jack Shepherd meet Desmond in a flash back as they are both doing a tour d’ stade. Running every step in every section of a stadium.

I was hooked on the show and couldn’t wait to catch up and watch weekly with my friends.

This was also the time when I first thought about endurance sport. I remeber watching Lost on DVD in my basement while wearing an air cast and elevating my leg and looking up ultra marathons at the same time.

Boat tour past Chateau D’if and haling and swimming in the Frioul archipelago

I was unable to put weight on my foot without pain, so the obvious reaction for me was, when this is healed, how far can I go?

I have yet to do an ultra marathon, but I’ve done my fair share of tour d’ stade around the country.

Needless to say, the show, and those characters specifically, had a big impact on me. I still like to use Desmond’s line when he leaves Jack to resume his stadium run, “I”ll see you in another life brother” in that dashing Australian accent.

All that trip down memory lane to say, I was thinking about that song, that show, that simpler time in my life, while I was reflecting on my summer vacation with my family.

We had planned to take Speedy and El Duderino on our first big trip once they were both over five. We took months planning a trip to Marseille and continuing on a Mediterranean cruise out of Athens.

The places we visited and the memories we made were magical. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. And yet, there were aspects of the trip that made it feel like a national Lampoons family vacation movie.

Our flight plans changed last minute due to airplane swaps and an ATC strike in France. We ended up flying to Amsterdam and taking two trains with a subway connection through Paris to Marseille. From the end of my work trip to reaching our Airbnb, I think it was roughly 36 hours of travel time.

My father was pickpocketed while protecting Speedy in the subway car in Paris, in almost exactly the same spot I was pickpocketed years earlier on the trip where I proposed to Heather.

At the Airbnb, my father fell down some stairs breaking a few toes. El duderino fell in the pool and got a cut under his chin that probably could have been stitched. Speedy fell off the deck and we were worried about a concussion.

Acropolis tour and getting on the cruise ship

There were wildfires in the Calanques National park not more than a few miles from where we were staying. The smoke was bad enough to close the airport to all flights the day before we were scheduled to fly to Athens for our cruise.

During the cruise, Heather, Speedy, and I all took turns with 2 day colds and fevers.

On paper, it seemed like a comedy of errors. Like one thing going wrong after the next. But that isn’t really how i saw it. That isn’t how it felt.

Sometimes, in a bjj or wrestling match or in a race, things aren’t going your way, but you are in it. You quickly acknowledge the setback or the unfavorable circumstance and move forward. The clock is ticking, and you need to adjust your strategy and keep moving. Sometimes you come out on top, and sometimes you don’t. But you keep moving.

There were certainly times when I felt overwhelmed. Times when I felt like I would be letting the family down if I couldn’t solve the next problem or tackle the next challenge.

But I dont think that is how I will remember the trip. I certainly dont think that’s how the boys will remember the trip.

Sometimes, we get to make our own kind of music. The music can change the way the story feels. The way it unfolds in our minds and our hearts in spite of what is in front of our eyes.

We saw such beautiful places and we did it together. We had experiences, fun, and challenging and new. We rolled with the punches, and we overcame. Together.

I hope that my boys can look back fondly on this first of hopefully many family trips.

I hope that they can appreciate the time spent together in a family adventure.

I hope that someday, they can laugh with me about obstacles overcame and challenges met that they hopefully didn’t even recognize.

I hope they can grow into young men who can meet those same obstacles and challenges head-on with families of their own.

Boat cruise, swimming and Delos tour in Mykonos

I hope they can make their own ki d of music, to whatever beat they find appealing. I hope that they can be the author of their own destiny, writing the story the way they want it to be read. I hope we can all find serenity along the way.

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

Quintessential

The orange light fights to climb over the closest peak. As it crests, it strains to break through the thick mist. The mist, clinging and caressing my skin as I zoom through the winding and undulating mountain roads.

I almost have to pull over and pinch myself. Is this heaven? A dream? Almost. I wouldn’t want to ruin the flow of the wheels across the pavement, and this zen state of movement.

The road is quiet. Just me and the bike and the mountains. Every once in a while,a car will wait patiently behind me before I signal it is clear to pass. I’m more worried about skittish deer than the cars.

Most of the world, (including my family) is still asleep. Maybe that adds to the beauty. This is a private moment.

They will wake soon, and we will go chase that quintessential summer day together.

Camping at the lakefront. Tubing down the river. Soccer and wiffleball at the local park. Take your shoes off and dip your toes in the creek.

There are too many activities to fit in, despite the sun stretching overhead long after to boys bedtime. It feels like a return to simpler times.

People try to tell you, but it is hard to listen. Harder still to understand and change your behavior. Youth is wasted on the young. They grow up fast. The one that stuck with me was, “you only get eighteen summers with them”

I think that might be generous. They probably dont remember the first three or four. And they will have things that seem more important to them by 15 or 16. The window closes faster than we think.

I think that’s why this summer felt so special. Both El Duderino and Speedy were old enough to appreciate it. And every day I was home felt like a new mission. How do we craft the perfect summer day?

It’s a totally unrealistic goal. Unachievable, really. As everyone’s individual preferences clash. Reality sets in, disappointment, frustration, human nature.

But, like a good dose of type II fun, sometimes the joy is in the journey.

So we hiked. We swam and splashed. We camped. We floated. We traveled. I rode my bike every chance I got, often with bleary eyes and to the detriment of my sleep. There’s nowhere else I would rather have been.

Most of the time, I tried to look at the summer as a whole. What can we do today that week add to the overall experience.

But there were two occasions where I shot for the moon.

I woke up well before the dawn, stretching and prepping gear in the silent dark calm of the early morning trying not to wake the rest of the house.

I would drive 30 or so minutes to the base of the larger mountains and scenic highways and start my ride from there.

Winding my way through the scenic highways

40 ish miles with 4000’+ of elevation gain, most of it before my family awoke.

They would meet me later on at the state park I had already ridden laps, around. I would stop and get donuts and wait for them at a picnic bench beside a babbling creek.

After they joined me, my boys and I moved to the playground, swinging and making friends at the nearby volleyball net while my wife ran on the trail around the lake.

We would later hike on the same trail towards a waterfall before finding a serendipitous presentation by a local aviary rescue.

Meeting up at Vogel state park after my longer rides

We finished the day splashing in the lake, me throwing the boys like a backyard WWF exhibition.

Sure, there were disagreements. Maybe even a tantrum. Kids will be kids, and boys will be boys. I think we might have even found a yellow jacket nest and gotten stung on our hike.

In the moment, those things seem big. They appear to take over the narrative. These certainly aren’t things I would pencil in the agenda for my day. But, they diminish significantly time.

What’s left, is arguably the quintessential summer day. It was far from perfect, and yet it was everything we needed it to be.

Like a lot of things, maybe it was a bigger deal in my head. This lofty expectation that I strained for, and probably fell short of. But god damn did it feel good trying.

This is obviously quite a while after the fact. I hope you can all find activities to bring your family together in these dog days of summer.

That you can find joy in the pursuit of that quintessential summer day. And, just maybe, some serenity along the way.

Finishing off some beautiful summer nights in the mountains

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

Outcome

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. Normally this time of year, I am thinking back on my somewhat ill-advised tradition of the christmas half marathon. This year, I want to talk about a different tradition.

For almost as long as I can remember, Christmas time around my house has come with fudge.

Growing up cutting weight for wrestling during the holidays, there were many years where I was less enthused with this tradition.

I still partook of course. It just meant a few more sprints, and envy as I handed out whole tins of fudge to teachers, coaches, and relatives who could enjoy it without thoughts of the scale nagging at them.

The fudge recipe has been passed down through at least three (and now four) generations on my moms side of the family.

My wife and I received the recipe along with some tutorial batches this christmas.

I have always watched my mother make fudge, even helping from time to time over the years. Licking the spoon counts as helping, right?

What struck me most about this tradition is a small line at the bottom of the recipe. I cannot share the recipe as it is a family secret, but I think sharing this part is ok.

“It is truly a learning experience, and even after 40+ years of making fudge, the outcome is not guaranteed.”

Now, this particular quote talks about some of the steps in the recipe that are more art than science. They require some judgment and experience rather than just blindly following steps.

It made me think about some of our other traditions, how they, too, are not guaranteed.

It would certianly be easy to skip my annual half marathon. There have been many years where it was a struggle to fit it in. Years where I wanted to walk (or hobble) away in the middle of it.

Even just getting together as a family, especially with the amount of time I spend away as a pilot, is never a guarantee.

What makes it a tradition, what makes anything a tradition really, are a few people’s stubborn dedication to make something stick.

And not just to make it stick, but also to make it meaningful. To make it something we look forward to. To make it something that we associate with that holiday or time of the year.

I’m grateful for the many traditions that we have in my family. Even more so now, because of the appreciation for how easy it is to let them fall by the wayside. The outcome is not guaranteed.

It also gives me a sense of hope, for those traditions that have lain dormant for years. That maybe with that same stubborn dedication, they can be revived.

It gives me a renewed sense of purpose. One of our main roles as parents is to be teachers, mentors, and examples for children and other younger members of our family.

Maybe that is a bit too much philosophizing over making fudge, but I think we could all use some more stubborn dedication to family values.

The pursuit of passing on what is important to us, to the generations that follow, knowing that the outcome is never guaranteed.

13th annual Christmas half marathon and the first run of the new year

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

Thanksgiving

The crisp air felt refreshing, rather than the typical dry ragged burn of icy dryness down my throat. The sun came in blinding flashes through the trees, still clinging to the last leaves of fall. The horn section of the ska track greeted me with enthusiasm despite the combination of running earmuffs and headphones chaffing my cauliflowered ears as I bounded through the park.

Sometimes, the music just sets you up for the right kind of day.

I flew into JFK this morning and meandered my way through heavy traffic both, vehicular and sidewalk, to get to Central Park.

I’m not sure what it is, but there is something special about running there. All the other people enjoying the outdoors. The protected green space, surrounded by a concrete jungle. Running fast enough to pass all the horse drawn carriages (and avoiding stepping in their steaming piles).

It got me thinking about all the things I’m thankful for. The list is long. I am very blessed. But, at the forefront, I’m thankful for a life of adventure.

Raising kids is an adventure. Choosing a life partner is an adventure. Traveling to new places and actually exploring those places leads to all sorts of adventures.

These past few months, in particular, I have been seeking out more and more of those adventures.

Part of it was training and preparation for the six gap century ride, (a grand adventure in its own right). But, I think that training also reawakened in me the thirst for adventure.

What started as a way to get in some extra miles morphed into something beautiful. Opportunities taken, not squandered, and approached with reverence and appreciation.

I’m eternally grateful for these opportunities. To travel, to explore, to interact with these new and familiar places in new and exciting ways.

I’m grateful for the physical health and wellness that enables me pursue these passions.

Riding 90 miles around Lake tahoe, knowing I have an early morning and a long day of work ahead tomorrow.

Fumbling my way on a rickety hotel bike to a trailhead for a hike in Montana

Racing ahead of my new group ride friends on unfamiliar roads so I can get back in time to drink wine with my wife

Struggling up a sandy logging road in the back hills of Boise during wildfire season.

Riding through the fall foliage in Roanoke on the blue ridge parkway late enough in the season that it is closed for cars.

Taking Speedy and El Duderino on a boys weekend trip immediately after returning from a red eye.

I’m grateful for the joie de vivre, that gets me out of the hotel and out of the house to explore. Grateful that it is something I get to do, not something I have to do.

I’m grateful to both of my parents for instilling that sense of wonder and adenture in me. I hope that my words, and more so my actions, instill that same sense of wonder in my boys.

That they can see the plethora of adventures that await them. That they can see all the joy waiting for them to reach out and claim on their own paths.

I hope that they get a chance to explore the big, beautiful world i am just starting to explore.

I hope that they see the value in adventure and are inspired to follow their own passions

I hope that they find their own serenity, even if only for the briefest of moments, and maybe they even get a little sweaty along the way.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to watch them in that endeavor, for as long as I can, knowing that tomorrow is not a guarantee.

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.

One of my favorite layover runs in Roanoke

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.

Beautiful day for some miles on my Traverse city layover

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.

Lots of miles getting ready to ride in the mountains

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.

Last time bouncing before surgery and healing time

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.

Cycling miles fell off a bit as BJJ season picks up.

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.

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.