Fitness – Page 3 – Serenity Through Sweat

Prediction

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I spent the past week traveling with my family and then recovering from a stomach bug and it got me thinking about predictions.

One of the things that sets humans apart from the rest of the animals in this planet is our ability to aggregate, analyze, and utilize data in a forward looking manner. This is easy to take for granted in modern days when constant data access is only as far away as our pockets. Our primal ancestors required a much more conscious approach.

It gets cold for part of the year and there is no food, better stockpile. I get sick after eating from that plant, better tell the rest of the tribe. I got better after drinking tea from those leaves, I’ll do it next time I don’t feel good.

Still for all of our data driven decisions, we are terrible predictors of outcome. Especially when it comes to discomfort. We are inclined to think that the status quo will remain intact, despite what are often glaring signs to the contrary.

On the flight back to Orlando El Duderino was playing with the tray table after we had gotten the “tray tables stowed and seatbacks in the upright and locked position” schpeel. I told him to stop playing with it, and he obliged until after we had landed.

To his credit I told him we couldn’t play with because we were landing. Once we had landed, this edict no longer applied. Despite my frustration, I’m impressed with his reasoning and precise interpretation of language. Words are important as I often say, but I digress.

When it was our turn to exit the plane he was still playing with the tray table only now he got his pinky good and pinched in it. Getting it out meant pinching it even more before the table would release.

I carried a screaming 45lb toddler through the aisle and up the jet bridge and tried to calm him down in the terminal. When I told him I knew it hurt but it would feel better soon his response was, “it’s never going to feel better”.

He is 4 and lacks the kind of life experience and emotional maturity to appreciate healing, pain, recovery, and perception in general. At the same time I think about my own feelings that often mirror his.

Ultra Runner Zach Bitter answered listener questions on the episode of the Human Performance Outliers podcast I was catching up on last week. One of the questions was about perception of effort and discomfort throughout an ultra or other endurance event.

I’ll paraphrase his answer as something like “Perceived effort/discomfort in an endurance race does not follow a linear progression. This may seem counter intuitive, but it is essential to both understand and actively remind oneself thought training and race day.”

If you hit a rough spot at mile 14 in a marathon, it doesn’t mean that every mile after it will get progressively worse. Understanding this intellectually is one thing. Being able to recall it and apply it on race day, with all of the hormones, emotions, and self inflicted suffering, is quite another.

Looking at a workout plan with a number of sprints or a large mountain can be intimidating. Reminding yourself that this feeling is a temporary stressor. One designed to promote growth. After the fourth sprint rep or half way up the climb, can be more challenging than the physical exertion itself.

This is one of the primary goals of mindfulness. Being present in the moment and assessing it without projecting it into the future. Your legs and lungs may well be burning, but that is not their fate forever.

I think Ray Liota said in best in the movie Blow, “Sometimes you’re flush, and sometimes your bust. When your up it’s never as good as it seems, and when you’re down you never think you’ll be up again. But, life goes on.”

El Duderino’s finger is fine. My legs and lungs have already moved on from the workout an hour ago, much less any of the thousands of miles before that one. Our prediction of effort and discomfort may be sorely lacking. But, life goes on, and serenity can still be found.

A shorter workout week with home renovation and travel

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

Quitting

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I want to talk about quitting. That may seem like an odd message for what is typically a more upbeat and positively oriented platform, but hear me out.

Author of The Voltage Effect, John List was on the freakonomics podcast discussing his book and his overall economic philosophy. The book is an economist’s ideas on how to make entrepreneurial ideas work at scale.

The conversation covered a number of cases studies including Uber, Lyft, and K-mart. Specifically discussed was the K-mart blue light special.

The blue light special (along with K-mart) went from being a sales mogul, to a forgotten cultural relic. Lost to the annals of history along with Kodak and Blockbuster.

The blue light special would alert shoppers to a great deal on individual products that were then first come first serve until they were gone. The resulting increase in sales not just for the blue light product but for all products was astonishing.

Taking advantage of excitement, scarcity, and a feeling of exclusivity, the blue light special was a smash hit. Until it was taken over by corporate. individual store managers could set the blue light special for their customers needs in a way that was inaccessible to corporate offices. Not to mention that the shoppers in Boise probably had different wants than those in Orlando.

Among other decisions and macro trends outside of their control, K-mart fell by the wayside. List discusses some of these trends but laments corporate inability to shift from a bad plan. When the desired outcome is not being served by a plan it is time to quit. This is what he calls optimal quitting.

Quitting has a decidedly negative connotation, and especially for the many endeavors that I pursue, grappling and triathlon among others. But within each of those activities are dozens of optimal quitting scenarios.

Abandoning a technique that has been cleverly countered. Switching to a different game plan or overall strategy for an opponent with different skill sets. Changing your race pace or gearing based on race day terrain or conditions. These are all examples of optimal quitting. Real time adjustments when the desired outcome is not being served.

Parenting presents plenty of opportunities for optimal quitting too. Wrestling with my boys is all fine and well until it escalates, or gets them too riled up before bed. There is undoubtedly and optimal time to quit. One that is often times slightly exceeded.

The tools used to tackle a tantruming toddler can vary in their approach. Using one too long may preclude using another. If you use the stick too early, it is hard to dangle the carrot. If they’ve already got the carrot the stick doesn’t hold the same power. There is a period of optimal quitting when changing your tactics with a toddler. One I have yet to figure out.

The point is, quitting is not the end all be all of negativity it is often painted to be. Practice quitting, especially optimally quitting, is worth your time and energy. As someone who has stumbled into doing it correctly on occasion, whether it be grappling, parenting, or grappling with my parenting dilemma, optimal quitting can yield its own form of serenity.

Tour de Zwift, running and some KOT programming

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

Standstill

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. While working on my linguistics project I have come across a lot of universal wisdom disguised as bland academia. Thoughts and quotes that produce a lasting effect well beyond the initial reading. I wanted to share one of them with you this week.

One of the best ways to truly understand a thing, is to study it’s history and development. Things rarely take a linear path to their current status. Those twists and turns are often filled with difficult decisions, decisions which alter trajectory.

The study of language and communication is no different. If anything I have found it to be even more interesting, because there’s is so much we don’t know. Hypotheses rise and fall on new data and discoveries in a never ending change of tides. The Oxford Handbook of the History of Linguistics, tells this story across the millennia and across the various areas of linguistic study.

Our current understanding of language, is in large part due to understanding the process of change. What data we have an ancient languages, and mapping the changes through the years to where we are now.

One of the beautiful things about language is that it is dynamic and mobile. A word’s meaning, connotation, even it’s spelling is all subject to change.

“There can never be in language, just as there can never be in the continually blazing thoughts of men, a moment of true standstill.” (von Humboldt 1836b: 184)

Linguists draw a comparison (which could also be expanded to fit humans) that languages only become static when they stop being used. These are then considering “dead” languages. People are very much the same.

Even the most obstinate toddler (not that I have any experience with those) is constantly being exposed to new information and experiences. They are a bundle of new patterns and changes.

When we stop our continually blazing thoughts, when we stop learning and growing, we reach a mental standstill. We become our own dead language. Something other people have little use for, except maybe a passing curiosity.

Spring emerging from the gloom along the trail in Augusta

The standstill is akin to death in this mental metaphor, which translates well to the physical realm. In grappling sports constant motion is required to set up an technique. Being at a standstill is a surefire way to get beat, or worse, injured.

In endurance sports a standstill is the classic sign of defeat. Haunched over, heaving, hands on knees, halted. The picture of an athlete who cannot progress any further that day.

A beautiful day for a tour d’ stade in Gainesville

Von Humboldt’s words are beautiful, and I think they are accurate. It seems with any judgement of people (and language for that matter too) it becomes necessary to add a caveat. An asterisk.

Never is a powerful word. An absolute. One that begs no argument. Humans, and language, can only find themselves at a true standstill of their own accord. When they fail to forge forward along the path, is when they die literally or metaphorically.

No standing still on the zwift pedals, freewheeling doesn’t work.

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

Exposure

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I’m reflecting on my 35th birthday. How I feel. How I’ve grown. What type of man I have become and what type of man I want to be.

Listening to Zach Bitter and Aaron Alexander on the Human Performance Outliers podcast, Aaron said something that made me reflect on my last decade.

Zach is very literally a human performance outlier as an ultra marathoner, and Aaron is a movement coach and author of the Align Method. Their conversation covered wellness topic such as mobility, training, breathing, and mindset.

Whenever you wade into the world of endurance sports, the somewhat unanswered, elephant in the room question, is that of longevity and vitality. What are the long term costs of pushing performance? What is the cost of being an outlier? Specifically on your long-term health and wellness.

Looking back, I have pushed myself pretty hard in the last decade. And not just physically. The volume of miles from triathlon training alone is staggering. Jiu jitsu, despite being the gentle art, takes it’s toll on the body. I’ve finished a graduate degree. Changed jobs twice. Found a partner and started a family. Just in the past few years I’ve cultivated new hobbies and habits.

I feel better now than I did at 25. I walk around at a lower weight than I did at the starting line of IronMan FL in 2013. (Which I hope is the lifetime peak of my training volume). I prioritize sleep and nutrition in a way that I was uneducated about a decade ago. I have more balls in the air now and struggle with balance, but find myself better equipped for that struggle.

Despite all of that, the question remains, am I burning the candle at both ends? Will this impact my longevity and vitality? My healthspan?

Aaron said something that I found incredibly reassuring. “your body adapts to what it is exposed to, even if that is nothing”

If you are exposed to nothing, your body will adapt to that as it’s default. The smallest offset can then be momentous. On the other end of the spectrum, if you vary and amplify your exposure, your body adapts. Your level of resilience is directly correlated to your level of exposure.

There are some obvious caveats. My days of thinking “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” are long gone. Lower intensity work, mobility, and less “demanding” practices like meditation and breath work are a critical part of my routine now. Not every session can be a grip it and rip it sweat fest.

El Duderino and Speedy playing in the water

Beyond what I expose my body to in search of positive adaptation, my boys become exposed to fair portion of it is well. They are always watching and listening. Being exposed to someone pushing themself. To someone who struggles, falters, and ultimately grows. I can only surmise what lens they see me through but I hope that the exposure is beneficial.

I’m grateful for all of the beauty, challenge, pain, and struggle that I have been exposed to. I’m grateful for all the ways my body has adapted over the last decade. I hope for continued exposure to push my adaptation. I hope that I find the appropriate level of exposure for my boys as well. In some dynamic interplay of exposure and adaptation, I hope to find serenity.

Zwift, peleton, treadmill, and some mobility work from a birthday week spent mostly on the road

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

Spoons and Shovels

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This week I wanted to talk about the strange relationship I have with efficiency, in fatherhood, fitness, and flying.

I was reminded and inspired for this post by a quote from a Pavel Tsatsouline’s kettlebell book, Simple and Sinister. Pavel’s style of training is to use heavy weights explosively, and do fewer reps for more sets with long breaks in-between.

“Hard style training is also highly effective for fat loss. In a study that compared the energy expenditures in the same exercise performed explosively and non-explosively, the former predictably burned more calories. “The swing is inefficient, which is why it is a great fat burner,” explains Dan John. “The bike is efficient—and fat people can ride it forever.” Yes, you could burn the same calories by doing more reps with less power or less weight…but why? “

“Famous economist Milton Friedman was visiting a construction site in a country with Soviet-influenced economic policies. It was in the 1960s and Friedman was shocked to see only shovels and no mechanized equipment. He asked the government bureaucrat who was giving the tour about it. The latter smugly replied, “You don’t understand. This is a jobs program.” Prof. Friedman smiled, “Oh, I thought you were trying to build a canal. If it’s jobs you want, then you should give these workers spoons, not shovels.”

In many aspect of my life efficiency reigns supreme. I am always looking for the most efficient way to do something. Whether it is a grappling technique, a flight procedure, or just getting the kids out the door.

Aviation procedures after accounting first for safety, are primarily efficiency driven. Small inefficiencies multiplied across thousands of flights a day make a huge difference to a company.

Grappling is all about efficiency in motion. Your ability to generate the maximum amount of force necessitates not wasting energy through inefficient movement. Getting into advantageous positions is often not possible with inefficient or extra movement.

Beauty beyond the buildings in Burlington

In endurance sports, when racing, I’m trying to achieve the best efficiency in terms of speed for power output. The level of efficiency in a pedal stroke, a swimming stroke, or running cadence can be the difference between a personal record, and a really dark and ugly mental slog just to finish.

When training however, I often find myself deliberately seeking inefficiency. Swinging a kettlebell, over-exaggerating grappling movements, practicing a deliberately slower pedal stroke with a higher gear.

These inefficient training methods have a significant impact on strength, and growth in the particular sport or skill.

Fort building with Speedy and El Duderino

The irony is not lost on me that I waffle between maximized efficiency to minimized efficiency. Doing something the most efficient way is seldom the best way to learn.

I’m thinking about this as El Duderino is starting pre school. There are so many things that I do for him, and for myself for that matter, that are driven primarily by efficiency. But is that always the best approach?

El Duderino has been potty trained for a while. My wife was been a rock star with that, starting when he was only 6 months old. But he doesn’t like to wipe his own butt. Efficiency, being the quickest way to get this task done, dictates that I (or my wife) do it for him. The alternative is an existential argument with a four year old. with pants around his ankles, butt up in the air, explaining to us the importance of team work and helping out your family. His argument (especially in context) seems compelling.

At some point he will have to do this himself. It is a question of when, not if. I know that sooner is better than later. But there is a nagging sense of efficiency that rears its head. The desire to complete a simple task and move on to the next, that drives my avoidance of what I know to be my parental responsibility. To help him grow and develop into an independent young man.

It is hard to feel excited about deliberate inefficiency. It is even more painful when that inefficiency can be remedied, but doing so would be detrimental in the long run.

Parenting, along with many other aspects of my life and this blog, can be an exercise in using spoons instead of shovels. At least I’ve got company down in the trenches digging along with me.

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

Misspent Youth

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This past week I ran the 10th edition of the annual Christmas half marathon and it had me thinking about an old rowing movie.

The Skulls is a movie from the year 2000 featuring Joshua Jackson and Paul Walker. It was popular amongst my friends and I in high school because it featured a very unrealistic depiction of rowing, and there weren’t a whole lot of those on the big screen at the time, or since then for that matter.

Joshua Jackson’s character Luke McNamara is your typical underdog. He comes from an underprivileged background, makes it on to the rowing team where he outworks everyone to earn his way into a good college.

From there he becomes obsessed with gaining social status through a secret society called the Skull and Bones. It is there he meets his Skulls “soulmate” (read frat brother) Caleb Mandrake played by Paul Walker. Drama and crime ensue and the movie is far from a blockbuster, but there are worse ways to spend two hours.

Caleb and Luke come from opposite ends of the socioeconomic spectrum. Caleb is the poster boy from the Creedence Clearwater Revival song, a senator’s son, silver spoon in hand.

There are a pair of matching scenes in which the two “soulmates” help each other in the areas they are each more suited to. Caleb ties Luke’s bowtie, and Luke helps Caleb pick a lock in the respective scenes to which they remark to each other, “the skills of a misspent youth”.

Both characters help their friend, and both skills are valuable in the context of the film and otherwise. There is a tangible sense of regret and envy from each of the characters to the other, feeling that the grass was greener for the way they each grew up.

I ditched the captain, who had invited me out to Buffalo wild wings, in order to embark on my traditional holiday trek. I’m glad I did, and I’m happy with my choice. But, it got me thinking about the skills learned over 10 years of this tradition, which by many might consider, a misspent youth.

What started out as a planned training day while I was on call, morphed into a coping mechanism from being away from home and then into something more. Over the years the Christmas half marathon has taken place at home, in the snow, on a treadmill, and through the woods.

Getting zwifty before heading in to work

It has been a run of celebration, a run of grieving, and a run to stave off boredom. It has been exciting and much anticipated, and it has been slogged through and checked off the to do list most unceremoniously.

More than anything though the tradition has endured. After ten years, all the changes in my life and the world around, all the stress and added activity of the holiday season, this run has been a constant. 13.1 miles of self reflection.

There is an opportunity cost to everything. Time marches on, and every thing that we choose to occupy ourselves with, necessitates a removal of another choice that might have been made.

Endurance athletics in particular carry a high opportunity cost because they are often time consuming solo endeavors. Still, I feel the same way about them as I do about the Skulls movie, and the notion of skills from a misspent youth. There are certainly worse ways to spend two hours.

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

Afterglow

Last week I wrote about race week, and this week I thought it was just as, if not more important, to talk about the post race week.

I wrote a post last year, when I thought I could be working my last flight for a while, about mission completion. How there is an emptiness left in the wake of something that you have dedicated yourself too that has reached it’s natural conclusion.

Getting the boys back to their jet setting ways

This emotional empty space is further exacerbated by the recovery process. Not only am I no longer activily pursuing a goal, but I’m actively refraining from, and trying to minimize my otherwise high octane training.

I know that my body needs rest, and that recovery is critical. My brain, and my hormonal reward circuits are not on the same page.

Finishing my first longer course triathlon since having kids four years ago has left a similar, albeit slightly smaller wake. The hours spent sweating over a bike trainer, the lonesome hotel treadmills, the opportunities that were sacrificed in the name of a training plan, all come to be familiar friends.

It is easy to feel a sense of Stockholm syndrome, you become sympathetic to the captor of your time and energy, and soon come to depend on it, not just for your physical well-being, but also your emotional happiness and mental stability.

SerenityThroughSweat as you might have gleaned, is a journey through my many endeavors from fitness to fatherhood, but it is also my trial by combat against anxiety and depression.

Without the sweat, I predictably find myself lacking in serenity. As my wife is very ready to remind me, “your not nearly as nice of a person when you haven’t worked out for two or three days”

I’m not sure what the answer is, maybe I’m restless (more than maybe). Maybe my ambition gets the better of my appreciation. Maybe I have been at endurance sport and competition in general long enough that my dopamine reward pathway is off kilter.

Sure I was happy to finish. Sure I enjoyed splashing with my boys in the pool and sliding down the water slide with them. Cracking beers while catching up with an old friend and my wife was a great post race celebration. But the satisfying sense of accomplishment that can carry over through the post race recovery period was conspicuously absent. There was no afterglow.

Before I started writing I was trying to think about what it was that I was actually feeling and this everclear song popped into my head. Ironically, this song would come up on one of my Pandora stations that I use frequently during training.

“we never ask ourselves the questions to the answers that nobody even wants to know I guess the honeymoon is over so much for the afterglow. (So much for the afterglow, Everclear)

There are clearly answers here that demand some tough questions. Fortunately I do some of my best thinking while putting in miles and sweating.

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

Race day

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. This past weekend was my first foray back into longer distance triathlon since having kids and I wanted to share some of my experience.

Let me start by saying it is difficult to adequately express the range of emotions that pop up over the 5:48 it took me to cover the 70.3 miles.

There are lows of despair, pain, and self doubt, followed by bouts of confidence and elation. The smallest and most insignificant detail can move you from one end of the spectrum to the other, and right back again just as quickly.

Nobody likes swimming with company. Biking and running with friends is great, swimming with friends really just means getting groped and kicked. Even with the rolling start (which was way better than IM FL in 2013) the swim was more of a contact sport than desired.

I’m very grateful for a safe bike experience both training and racing. Seeing some of my fellow athletes bloodied and road rashed, or worse is a reminder of how fortunate I am to have avoided major accidents despite all the miles put in.

It also reinforces my decision to train almost exclusively indoors on the bike. With a smart trainer and zwift, my biking is more efficient (in terms of not needing to load up and load out and drive to a safer road to ride). It is also way more diverse in terms of ability to climb, sprint, and ride different simulated terrain and topography.

I felt very prepared for the bike course with only indoor training, but it was a refreshing reminder of why I love to ride my bike. The cool December Florida temperatures (at least for the bike leg) paired with the rolling hills, rural roads, and orange groves, made for a picturesque Sunday morning ride. There were more than few instances out on the bike course where I found myself smiling, lost in the gentle mechanical hum of the chain through the cogs.

There is a simple and efficient exchange that happens on the bike that is magical. Human power goes in and locomotion comes out, but some of that majesty can be lost when looking at a power meter and a virtual world. The wind rushing past the ear scoops of my way too serious looking aero helmet, brought all that majesty back very quickly.

By mile forty seven on the bike course, after north of three hours of racing already, the gentle rolling hills and orange groves seemed much less enchanting as my legs started to fatigue and the new asphalt gave way to roads that can be best described as a taint jackhammer. It is a glamorous sport, you just need the right words to describe it.

The race start was delayed an hour due to morning fog, which was a good call, but it meant the run would be done in the heat of the day, even for the fastest athletes. My slightly better than .idle of the pack pace was no exception. Add in unseasonably warm temperatures for Florida in December, and the half marathon was set up to be a trip through the pain cave.

There is a surge of energy that happens in transition. Our senses are naturally enhanced by change, as an evolutionary trait, so the bike to run change brings not only a sense of completion and accomplishment, but also a much needed shot of adrenaline. That wears off far too quickly as you realize you have 13 miles to run with more uphill than you realized.

A two loop run course is wonderful for spectators and logistics, but it is a cruel mistress. The exit is always close, the self inflicted punishment can stop whenever you want it to. This is a silly thing to do to yourself anyway, why run another lap?

A shot from a friendly neighbor’s hose, the ice cubes melting into sweet relief down your back, a kind word from a fellow masochist, can all give you the push you need to keep moving forward.

The run course wound in an out of neighborhoods, doubling back on itself, in a way that made me frustrated and delirious. Those same rolling hills that seemed so enchanting just a few hours ago, rose up like a rock wall, shimmering in the Florida sun.

Wanting to quit, wanting to jump for joy, wanting a beer, these are all things I had felt before in varying intensity at different races. What I hadn’t felt was my ability to be a father after that kind of effort.

Above and beyond triathlon, the extra gear and the endurance that I have when I see those two smiling faces, is something that I wish I knew how to train, but I’m glad it comes naturally. Being able to take my kids to the playground and the pool, and run around the house with them after the race means regardless of my finishing time, my training was right on point.

The elevation profile is a little off, but here are the race details in all their glory

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

Misogi

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I try to write weekly, so this would have been for the week of Nov 28-Dec 4, one week out from IM FL 70.3. because life often gets in the way it’s being written on Dec 9, three days till race day.

Despite being a notoriously braggadocious group, I have never heard a pilot claim to have a perfect check ride. There is always some small detail, or some overlooked aspect that could have been performed better.

As close as we get to white Christmas in FL

I think the same is true of triathletes, runners, and cyclists. Even after winning an event, beating a goal time, or setting a new PR (personal record), there is always some aspect of the race or the preparation that could have gone better.

Neurologically, when we stress our body, especially the type of heightened stress that comes with the fast speeds and hyper focus of racing, all the details of the event get imprinted onto our memories. The same neural pathways are triggered when flashing lights, bells and whistles start going off while moving hundreds of miles per hour across the ground in a metal tube.

Chilly treadmill work in Montreal, and speedo weather at the pool in FL

This is an evolutionary trait that helps us learn from what were typically life or death encounters in our ancient past. Hunting to feed your family, escaping a predator, traversing a difficult landscape to find shelter, all fit the bill.

Where those types of events might have happened somewhat regularly to our ancestors, it is relatively easy to avoid that kind of stress and discomfort in today’s society especially if you are above the poverty line in the U.S.

Enter Misogi. (You can read more about it here) An ancient Japanese practice that originated with a myth and has been adapted to a modern concept of challenge. The idea is to pick a challenge for yourself once a year that tests your physical and mental limits. A challenge that you don’t know if you can actually complete.

Part of the thought process is that you don’t know where the end of your potential lies unless you push up to the failure point. Part of the magic is that the neural imprinting from such a challenge stays with you long after you cross the finish line, or don’t for that matter too.

While I’ve finished a full Ironman triathlon, and finished a few half Ironman distance races, this one feels a little different. For starters I haven’t raced this long of a course since before I had kids. My priorities and responsibilities at home, and my time and ability to train are all drastically different than they were when I crossed the line at IM FL almost a decade ago.

Despite wrestling in hundreds of matches and grappling for closing in on 30 years, I still get butterflies in my stomach before ever match. I’ve been racing for less than half that time, and I get butterflies at the starting line too.

I’m sure when I’m on the beach at Lake Eva state park in just a few days I will have butterflies for the trial that lies ahead. Right now I have the thought of Misogi, a challenge with an uncertain outcome, that lingers in my head.

Like an old friend who has perhaps overstayed his welcome, the excitement of the challenge along with the uncertainty and doubt have become an unwelcome guest, but one that I cannot force to leave before the time has come.

I’m nervous and excited. I’m proud that my boys will be able to share this challenge with me, even in some small way, and I hope that one day I can share challenges of theirs with uncertain outcomes.

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

Bourbon dreams

Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. I’ve been reading a lot about America’s favorite drink since my wife and I visited Louisville last week. And while on a lonely Thanksgiving overnight I found this gem by Wright Thompson.

The following is an excerpt from his book Pappyland (which I ordered immediately upon finishing the article). Multiple times throughout the short read I was struck not only by Thompson’s prose and command of language and imagery, but by the deep and meaningful themes he connected to bourbon.

The beauty of the holiday season in FL, you can look at Christmas lights in the park and still enjoy a snow cone

“A career that aligned with my deepest wants and protective urges, both in how it would let me roam and how it would let me avoid myself by diving into the lives of others. I’ve always been happiest when dreaming of escape. From my earliest memories, my greatest solace and focus came while moving, or planning to move, from small actions like pacing while answering flash cards to planning elaborate road trips I knew I’d never take. When I look back at my early life, everything I read and watched and love and hoped and even feared came from this desire to fly far away.”

The idea of avoiding oneself by diving in to the life of another is something I think journalists and maybe actors can relate to, but as Thompson points out everyone can get out of their own way by immersion into their craft. And if that craft is movement based (pilots, journalists who have to travel, or athletes) so much the better.

I wrote back in May about restricted movement. Whether it is injury for an athlete or quarantine or lockdowns, I think there is a part of all of us that wants to rebel against movement restrictions in any form. This is what led me to the world of endurance sports and specifically to IronMan FL 70.3 taking place in less than two weeks.

But more than just wanting to move when we are otherwise unable to, Thompson’s words capture an emotion that I think most triathletes and most pilots live with but struggle to balance and convey.

I look at my work schedule when it is posted each month and plan out adventures that may or may not happen in the layover cities I’m supposed to visit. The schedule often changes whether by my action, my company’s, or external factors like weather or maintenance, but I’m still always moving to a different city and some new adventure awaits.

Most of those adventures involve some sort of movement, a hike, a running path, a walk through a different city to a restaurant or bar I like. My next trip has a layover in Chattanooga where I’m hoping to get in a scenic fall 5k before stopping at a local diner with a desert case that would make the Cheesecake Factory blush.

Rode the first half of the IM FL 70.3 bike course virtually, and some zwift miles through the foothills of France

There is something protective about movement, or maybe there is something vulnerable in stillness. Either way, flying to another place, running or biking, even if it is stationary, moving always has a net calming effect for me.

There is a magical effect when I walk into an airplane that my problems seem to melt away. The airplane doesn’t solve any problems, and they are always waiting for me back on the ground, but flying has a way of lowering the volume on everything else in life.

Athletics have always held that same powerful effect for me. The wrestling mat or the jui jitsu mat has always been a special place almost spiritual. Like stepping into another dimension, where all your baggage gets checked at the door, I grew up Catholic and seldom felt that way walking into church. There is a special mental space only attainable by forgetting your fixation on first world minutiae, and trying to avoid being choked unconscious.

A similar state of mind occasionally becomes accessible to me after long miles on the road or in the saddle. No one is trying to choke me, but the mental struggle against my weaker thoughts, my faults and failings, match the physical struggle to just keep moving.

I’m excited to read the rest of Thompson’s work, and I’m grateful already for his illumination of an emotion that I can so keenly relate to and at the same time, have struggled to express.

I hope that you the reader can find the same solace and focus in whatever your craft may be, that many of us find in movement.

Thanksgiving day treadmill brick run that came after 2hrs on a spin bike

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