Fitness – Serenity Through Sweat

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.

Six gap scout ride with a special mountain top surprise

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.

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.

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.

A cold damp run on a Toronto layover. The hairdryer I used to dry out my shoes afterward turned one of the insoles into a shrinky-dink

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.

Some higher intintervals and some weight management rides

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”

Keeping the cycling mileage up in the middle of the BJJ season

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.

Getting in some intervals work before my trips

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.

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.

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.

Life size Super Mario Bros made of chocolate

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.

Made it home to see these smiling faces on Christmas

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.

Making the best of an unscheduled LAX layover

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.

Some climbing miles and sprint win on my new bike, the still be named newest lady of the house

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.

Formidability

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I found this study scrolling through my news feed and wanted to share and reflect on it with you.

It seems like there has been a recent push in our culture to think about gender and gender norms. Maybe that is the Baader-Meinhoff phenomenon (the topic of next week’s post). Or maybe it is a genuine societal interest.

Since becoming a father to two boys, it is something I think about in the context of explaining masculinity to them. What does it mean to be a man? Is there even a good working definition.

The study by Mitch Brown and Ryan Tracy was titled “Preliminary evidence for neck musculature in shaping functional stereotypes of men’s relationship motives” the article covering the study was titled “Men’s neck musculature informs perceptions of parental abilities and interest in long-term relationships”

The researchers sought to find out how men with muscular necks are perceived as compared to their less muscular counterparts.

Matt brown said, “I became interested in this particular topic in two ways. First, I had a growing interest in the signal value of men’s formidability and how it shapes perceptions of their social value. With a growing understanding of parental motivational systems, I thought it would be pertinent to understand the possible tradeoffs associated with formidability that we see in other domains, particularly related to the protection of offspring at the expense of nurturance,”

He also said, “For neck musculature, I became interested in the topic both after seeing data from Neil Caton about the evolutionary value of neck musculature and some of my own me-search. I’m a former wrestler who has tried to have a beefy neck my whole life!”

As a nerd who reads and blogs about scientific papers, a fellow grappler with a beefy neck, and a father who is looking to teach his sons about perceptions of masculinity, this study checks all the boxes.

The researchers presented a series of images to a group of college students from a university in the south eastern United States.

The images were all of the same man, but, were digitally altered to vary the size of the trapezius muscles. This minimized variables, which may otherwise confound the participants perceptions.

Participants were asked to rate their perceptions of the men (varying i.ages of the same man) on fighting ability, interest in long-term vs. short-term mating, and effectiveness at protecting and nurturing offspring.

Men, or the computer enhanced version of this particular man, were perceived as better protectors and more interested in short-term term mating the larger and more muscular their neck was.

The counterparts with the smaller trapezii (I don’t know why, but I really like that word) were perceived as more nurturing and long-term mating partners.

Brown again, “Men’s neck musculature is informative in shaping perceptions of men in terms of their relationship preferences, Namely, large trapezius muscles connote greater interest to perceivers in promiscuous mating strategies and a disinterest in the conventions of biparental investment (e.g., monogamy, offspring nurturance).”

The study seems to have been well carried out. There are no glaring flaws in the methodology, the data analysis, or the conclusions.

This was a study focused on perception. I like to think that with a few exceptions, perception is reality. But, like the top button of my work shirt clamped around my beefy wrestler neck, those perceptions chafe a little.

The size of the trapezius muscle was used as a metric for formidability. The researchers’ previous work showed an inverse relationship between perceptions of protection versus nurturing offspring with changes in perceived formidability.

It has been a stereotypical and archetypal role for males to be protectors. There are obvious exceptions to that rule, but biological sex differences make that an easy principle to understand.

I would argue that nurturing falls under that role. Without nurturing, your children will never be able to protect themselves. Isn’t that the ultimate form of protection we want to provide? To teach them to do the job and pass it on to their kids after we are gone.

These are obviously stereotypes and perceptions. The best way to change them, is to confront them head on. To be the nurturing dad with the beefy neck.

Collecting jerseys on this round of zwift

I wrote a piece a while back that I think talked about formidability in a round about way. “In order to be peaceful you must be capable of violence. If you are incapable of violence, you aren’t peaceful, you are harmless”

I think for both mental and physical well-being, being peaceful is essential. That would mean being capable of violence is essential. Wrestling and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu are my outlets for violence.

The word has such a negative connotation, but thought of in the context of formidability, protection of offspring, and a necessity for peace reframes it nicely, I think.

I don’t want to be in a cultural discussion about gender norms. Rather, I want to be an example. For my boys, for their friends, for the other parents in our social circle.

Musculature (around the trapezii or otherwise) and being a good father are not mutually exclusive. Perceptions may be reality, but they can be changed, one sweaty, beefy, good natured parenting neck at a time.

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

70.3

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. last weekend I raced in the Ironman Gulf Coast 70.3 event and wanted to share my experience.

I have been in the sport of triathlon for over a decade now. With the exception of the full Ironman race I completed in 2013, I have mostly trained intuitively. That is, without a coach or a training plan.

I have a rough idea of what I need to do in order to be prepared. Benchmarks to hit along the way. How to set a reasonable goal that will be achievable but still lofty enough to keep me motivated.

With all the other demands in my life I want to put out a performance that I can be proud of, and I want to find the minimum effective dose of training that will help me achieve that.

With those parameters as the goal posts, this race was a huge success. It was my fifth time racing the 70.3 distance and I set a PR (personal record) by a pretty wide margin.

I did so, with less training volume than all of my previous attempts. To be fair, I have better equipment, more base fitness, and more time and knowledge in the sport than those previous races. No two races are alike. Each one presents their own unique story that unfolds on race day.

Trixie, all cleaned up and making friends

I think I swam maybe 4 times in the build up for this race. Not exactly ideal, but I like to tell people, you can lose the race on the swim, but very few people win the race there. Minimum effective dosage indeed.

The swim start was, like most all open water ocean swim starts are, abrupt and violent. You charge, full of adrenaline, down the sand and into a body of water that is actively opposing you. There was a strong quartering onshore wind from the left resulting in choppy conditions with a significant drift. The buoys were very difficult to sight. The jellyfish were up early and were active.

Knowing you have close to five hours of work Infront of you, the last thing you want to do is let your breathing and heart rate get out of control in the first ten minutes. Everything about the first ten minutes of the swim leads to exactly that. The waves and wind disrupting your stroke and your breathing. Constant contact with other swimmers. The anxiety of the amount of work still ahead. Jellyfish stings. I am a strong swimmer from years of surfing and countless hours in the pool. The hardest part of every triathlon swim for me is calming down and finding rhythm. The quicker I can do that the better I can perform.

I know I swam pretty wide of the buoy line after the second turn of the rectangular course. The wind and the waves made the buoys hard to see and the current was now pushing away from the course line. Despite the self inflicted extra swim distance I was on track for my overall goal getting out of the water and getting on my bike.

It was a beautiful day for a bike ride. I bought a new bike (Trixie) back in November and did all of my training except maybe 4 or 5 rides inside on a smart trainer. One of the more recent joys of racing for me, has been riding outside with the added comfort of some traffic protection. I have almost entirely given up on riding a road bike outside anymore because the dangers of being hit outweigh the value and pleasure it brings.

Trixie was fast. I knew she was fast but I was delighted with how the bike segment went. From a training perspective, I spent more time in this buildup working with power zones and my FTP (functional threshold power). FTP is the most amount of power you can sustain for a one hour all out effort. That number can then be scaled and adjusted for various intervals, race distances, and training sessions to optimize performance. It’s not perfect but it is a much more targeted approach than I’ve utilized in the past.

Power training and racing is also extremely reliable and relocatable. Your heart rate or pace might be different day to day, and course to course, but 200 watts is always 200 watts. I wanted to average 200 watts for the 56 mile bike ride. I estimated that would put me at about 22mph and set me up in striking distance for a sub five hour finish.

My bike segment went about as flawlessly as I could have hoped. I averaged just over 200 watts of normalized power and just over 22mph. My hydration and nutrition plan left me feeling fresh when it was time to dismount and lace up the running shoes.

The run was hot. There is no way around it. Running in full sun, in Florida, in mid May, is a recipe for cramps, dehydration, and a rough afternoon, if you find yourself prepared or unequal to the task at hand.

Thankfully, my nutrition and hydration on the bike set me up for success for the three loop course in the sweltering heat. I was targeting a 7:30/mile pace. While I fell a bit short of that, I had built enough wiggle room into my goal finishing pace that I felt comfortable my goal was still very much achievable.

I could feel my feet start to blister somewhere around mile 5. I knew that they weren’t going to get any better with 8 more miles to go. The mixture of sand residue, layers of dried sweat and the fresh water I was dousing myself with at every aid station were only making the blisters worse.

My shoes squished and squeaked noisily with every step. This new pair of racing shoes is significantly different than the minimalist trainers I tend to prefer. With a huge foam platform and a carbon plate meant to act as a sort of spring, these felt more like moon shoes. Still, I tried to keep my feet moving and focused on a high cadence. Repeating a mantra I had read about the most successful ultra runners. “Be a prancy pony”. Keep those feet moving, high and fast.

The aid stations would shimmer in the distance like a desert oasis. Volunteers crowding around to help weary travelers. I doused myself with water and dumped cups of ice down my back at every one. Small moments of relief. Short lived as the sun continued to beat down.

I’m very proud of my race performance. Like I wrote about in my last post, I was able to stay present for the experience. These are my burning legs. These are my aching lungs. No far off caves and power animals. I was able to remain calm in low points, and have overwhelmingly positive self talk throughout. I finished in 4:58 just under my goal of 5 hours.

Every race is different. What you take away from from every race is different. Those 70.3 miles, more than anything else, gave me gratitude. Gratitude that I was able to perform and push myself, especially with my “minimum effective dose” training. Gratitude that I was able to race safely on a beautiful course and a beautiful day. Gratitude for a weekend together with an old friend. Gratitude that I was able to race at all. Not everyone is so physically blessed and lucky. Not everyone can afford to indulge it what is a very selfish, time consuming, and expensive activity. And, that my wife indulged my selfish habit, taking care of our boys and the house while I play exercise as sport.

There is a beautiful and profound sense of peace at the end of a hard effort like that. The training, the scheduling, the opportunity cost of it all, and the race itself, leaves a huge wake. In that vacuum, is serenity, in the most essential form I am familiar with. SerenityThroughSweat, if only for the briefest of moments.

This is where the wheels started to fall off the post race “recovery”.

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

A special thank you to my wife and my mom and a very happy mother’s day. I was able to race and still make it back to take them out to dinner.

Wandering

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I was listening to the Huberman Lab podcast on meditation, and he referenced an interesting 2010 study out of Harvard that I thought was worth sharing.

“A wandering mind is an unhappy mind” by Matt Killingsworth and Daniel Gilbert details their study into happiness and day dreaming.

This weekend I’ll be racing in the Gulf Coast Ironman 70.3 event, and I was particularly interested in this study and its interplay with endurance sports.

A quick stop in Murphy and a trail run at lake nottley before work

The Harvard based researchers designed a web app and recruited participants to self report their levels of happiness and what they were thinking about.

Participants were prompted to use the web app at randomly assigned times during their waking hours. They were asked what they were currently doing, how happy they were on a 0-100 sliding scale, and what they were thinking about with four options.

Participants could report thinking about; what they were doing currently, something else positive, something else neutral, or something else negative.

Taper week training run through the Bellevue botanical garden

Participants would be surveyed 1-3 times daily until they opted out, which resulted in a significant data set. The researchers made sure to vary their participants across age ranges (18-88), gender, countries, and occupation.

The results showed some interesting insights into the human mind and happiness. What participants were thinking about turned out to be a significantly better predictor of happiness than the activities themselves.

In other words, being present in the moment, thinking about what it is you are currently doing, will likely make you happier than letting your mind wander to something else, even something pleasant.

Taper week training on a multi day Seattle layover

“multilevel regression revealed that people were less happy when their minds were wandering than when they were not, and this was true during all activities including the least enjoyable. Although people’s minds were more likely to wander to pleasant topics (42.5% of samples) than to unpleasant topics (26.5% of samples) or neutral topics (31% of samples), people were no happier when thinking about pleasant topics than about their current activity, and were considerably unhappier when thinking about neutral topics or unpleasant topics than about their current activity (Fig. 1, bottom). Although negative moods are known to cause mind wandering, time-lag analyses strongly suggested that mind wandering in our sample was generally the cause, and not merely the consequence, of unhappiness.”

“In conclusion, a human mind is a wandering mind, and a wandering mind is an unhappy mind. The ability to think about what is not happening is a cognitive achievement that comes at an emotional cost.”

Enduring anything is as much a mental/emotional battle as it is a physical one. While covering the 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and 13.1 mile half marathon, there will be plenty of time for my mind to wander.

Sometimes that mind wandering is helpful and even desired. There is a unique state of clarity and creativity that becomes available with extended physical exertion and an empty mind that is free to wander.

Other times it is important to center yourself on the task at hand, even if (or especially if), it is unpleasant. I’m reminded of the acid burn scene from fight club.

Edward Norton’s character wants to go to his cave and find his power animal. Brad Pitt’s character slaps him to bring him back to the present moment.

“This is your burning hand, it’s right here. Don’t deal with it like those dead people do, Come On! What you’re feeling is premature enlightenment. This is the greatest moment of your life and your off somewhere missing it.”

“A cognitive achievement with an emotional cost” is an extremely astute observation with some very powerful ramifications. Being able to dissociate from difficulty is a valuable survival mechanism. But being present, feeling that pain and difficulty, is the best way to learn. It is a tightrope walk for sure, but one worth walking.

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

135lb hangover

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I spent a large portion of the past weekend traveling. While that is pretty normal for my job as a pilot, this was a different kind of travel. A real, planes, trains, and automobiles adventure.

El Duderino, Speedy, my wife, and I all headed out late Thursday evening on a flight to Atlanta. Arriving well after the boys bedtime, we went to a hotel located a short walk from the airport sky train.

After a restless night of sleep for all four of us we were up and at em, picking up the rental car and out of the hotel before 9 AM. We stopped to pick up a U-Haul truck, and then made very carefully timed subsequent stops at both IKEA and Sam’s Club, enroute to our new home in North Carolina.

We had to stop at the realtor’s office to sign closing paperwork after the two and half hour drive. All of this had to be done before 2PM so we could take possession of the house before the county offices closed for the weekend.

Only an optimist can put together a plan like that. There were so many moving pieces. So many variables outside of our control. Somehow, like a rare celestial alignment, everything worked out wonderfully and we spent the weekend in our new home.

On the two and a half hour drive, winding through the mountain roads in a crosswind catching U-Haul box, I heard Bert Kreischer tell Joe Rogan a story that struck a nerve in me.

Bert was telling Joe how he watched one of his wife’s friends, a middle aged woman whose stunning beauty had started to fade, struggle to get a bartenders attention.

The moment Bert described was probably fleeting. He doesn’t say how long she was at the bar, or how long it took her to get the bartender’s attention. But he gives an eloquent and detailed description of her confusion. The puzzled look on her face. Her inability to process why the bartender is not immediately paying attention to her.

He realizes, this is a new experience for her. As a younger head turner, this was never a problem she had to deal with. And, she has yet to come to the realization that she is no longer that person.

Joe Rogan spouts out a quote from Socrates that he is apt to use in similar situations, “beauty is a short lived tyranny”.

The whole thing made me think about my wrestling. I was very successful and adept as a high school wrestler at 135 lbs. And my wrestling base, and instincts, and movements, have served me very well in life and especially in Jiu Jitsu.

But, there is always a big glaring but. My wrestling in Jiu Jitsu, especially with a gi on, bears a striking resemblance to this former beauty at the bar. Misunderstanding my current place in the pecking order. Over reliant on a skill set that has faded. Unable to recognize the need to evolve and adapt.

Running off the bike, getting ready for IM 70.3

I’m not sure why it took me this long to see it. Maybe it was egotistical denial. Maybe there are enough alternatives in Jiu Jitsu where I could hide the deficiency. Maybe I was able to get away with old habits with less skilled opponents.

Either way, the bandaid has been ripped off. I refuse to be the bombshell at the bar, past my prime and confused about how things are changing around me. It’s time to learn again as a beginner. To embrace the potential for growth and get past my 135lb wrestling hangover.

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